Just Destiny (28 page)

Before Helen could reply, the judge sat and fixed steady brown eyes on them. “Is there a problem, counselor?”

“No, Your Honor.” Helen tugged Jenny down into her seat.

With raised eyebrows, he stared a minute longer before turning back to his open case folder. “Very well then. Bailiff read the docket, please.”

“Harrison versus Turner. Are all parties present?”

“We are,” the attorneys said.

The judge looked at each party. “Taking into account the unusual nature of this suit, I’d think ninety days should be long enough to get your expert witnesses and prepare.”

George’s attorney stood. Or one of them stood. For the first time, Jenny noticed that a chic-looking young brunette had joined George and his attorney. All of a sudden he needed two attorneys? Were they trying to intimidate her with this show of power?

The woman addressed the judge. “Excuse me, Your Honor. Due to the lack of precedents, we’re going to have to rely heavily on witnesses to discover the decease’s exact intent, and this will take time.”

The judge consulted his calendar. “Sixteen weeks from today is April twenty-third. The final pretrial conference will be May eighth. That should give you plenty of time for depositions. If anything comes up in the interim, file a motion.” He picked up the gavel and pounded it, signaling their departure.

Jenny rose, confused. “That’s it? That’s all there is to it?”

“That’s it. Now the work comes. Since I don’t have an office, do you want to go back to your house or work at mine?”

“Mine.”

Jenny led the way home, immersed in uneasy feelings. A male judge? A handsome, single guy. What bad luck. She’d bet her last dollar luck had nothing to do with it. George was already playing dirty. Did Jenny’s sweet-looking grandma lawyer even know how to play dirty?

At home, she put on a pot of coffee as Steve came in the back door. “Hi, Jen. Helen, how’d it go?”

Jenny looked up in surprise. “What’re you doing here? It’s only three.”

“What’s to do?” Helen shrugged. “Trial’s set for May tenth.” She smiled warmly and pulled Steve to her for a hearty hug. “It’s good to see you, kiddo. You get handsomer and handsomer. Lawyering must agree with you.”

Jenny could swear Steve blushed. “You need to put on your glasses, lady.”

These two certainly were chummy. “What’re you doing here?”

He smiled and sat in the chair next to Helen. “Just checking on you.”

“Change your mind?” Helen asked, hopeful.

“Nope.”

“You’d be a big help.”

Steve reached for a chocolate chip cookie. “Sorry.”

“How about doing some research on the side?”

“Nope. Sorry.” He didn’t sound in the least bit sorry. In fact, he sounded rather carefree, as he sat in her kitchen, munching the cookies she’d baked that morning to wear off nervous energy before the hearing.

Helen turned to Jenny. “I wanted Steve to take the case and I would second chair. Having a young, single male arguing your case would be better for you from a psychological standpoint. But he flat-out turned me down. So we’ll have to make do with things the way they are.”

“And I told her that I’m not experienced enough. I’ve only tried eight cases—and I lost one.” Steve pushed back in the chair to balance on the two rear legs. “So how’d it go?”

“They switched judges on me,” Jenny complained. “At the pretrial, I’d been assigned this nice lady judge, then today we found she’d gotten a promotion because an appellate judge
suddenly
decided to retire—and he recommended her as his successor. And our new judge, this Delaney guy, is some single stud barely out of law school. Annnd,” she drew out, “the judge that retired is a fishing buddy of George’s. Coincidence? I think not.”

“So you think that George’s fishing buddy rearranged his career and retirement just to help a friend and to spite you?” Steve asked.

When put that way, Jenny felt a little silly.

“Though I’ll admit that you’d probably have had a better chance with a female judge.” He turned to Helen. “You could file a motion for judicial recusal.”

“That would just antagonize Judge Delaney. It would draw more press and word would get out that we’re difficult.” Helen looked pensive. “We’ll do okay with Delaney.”

“Probably. You’ll need to offer indisputable proof of Gabe’s intent. And you’ve got the ace right here.” Steve lowered the chair and reached for another cookie. “They’d been trying to have a baby—Jenny, in fact,
had been
pregnant, at the time of Gabe’s accident.” He looked at her. “Right?”

Jenny nodded.

* * *

Great, she was their trump. Weeks later, Steve’s words still haunted Jenny. Her lie was their ace. Just great. She might not have to lie. They might assume she and Gabe had planned the baby she miscarried. But if they didn’t, could she lie? Convincingly?

Jenny sat on their bed, struggling to remember how that conversation by the lake had gone. Maybe if she could remember
exactly
what Gabe had said and how he’d said it, she’d convince herself that had he known about the baby, he would have wanted it and, in fact, been happy about her pregnancy, and
that
would justify the lie. Nobody knew the truth but her. The only glitch was her conscience.

Jenny leaned against the brass headboard and drew her legs up to her chest. That morning by the lake, Gabe had been so quiet and introspective she knew he’d given the decision a lot of thought. And she’d honestly thought he’d tell her no—which he initially had.

Then he’d come up with that stupid compromise that had infuriated her—which shouldn’t have angered her since she was already pregnant. It was the motive beneath the compromise that upset her so. If she’d held her temper and not allowed hurt feelings to swell out of proportion, Gabe would be alive today.

He hadn’t been dead set against the idea of a baby, but he’d hardly been enthusiastic. He’d specified no artificial help in getting pregnant, proving he really hadn’t wanted a child. O-r…maybe he was a purist, wanting to leave it completely up to fate. In which case he would have embraced her pregnancy, knowing she’d gotten pregnant despite using protection, she thought with growing elation.

Unless he thought she’d gotten pregnant on purpose. Perhaps he specified no assisted conception because he’d been worried about multiple births. Twins or more would have been a lot to handle, she admitted. That must be why he came up with the all-natural stipulation.

She smiled and rested her chin on her knees. They’d loved each other; he would’ve been happy about the baby. If only she’d told him. If she’d told him, they wouldn’t have argued and she wouldn’t have run off and Gabe wouldn’t have been killed. They’d have celebrated with a romantic dinner, instead of living a nightmare. After the shock wore off, Gabe would’ve been happy about the baby. She knew he would. The phone beside her rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey. What’ve you been up to?” Steve asked.

 “Not much. Working. Went to Ann Arbor and took Alex and Ted to dinner last weekend; that was fun. Mom’s coming over next week on her day off to help me go through Gabe’s stuff, but other than that, not much. What about you?”

“Work. Estate and tax planning.” He sounded as if it were deadly boring work. “I need a vacation.”

“Poor baby. Aren’t you the guy who used to complain you never had any work?”

“
Interesting
work, Jen. Interesting,” he emphasized. “What’dya say we take the afternoon off tomorrow and play hooky? We could go to lunch, go bowling, a movie, window-shopping, whatever. I could use a break.”

“Sounds great, but I can’t tomorrow. I’ve got a one o’clock deadline and a doctor’s appointment in the afternoon.”

“Are you sick?”

“No. I’m seeing a fertility specialist to check out in vitro fertilization.”

“Creating embryos?”

She heard the pause before his carefully worded question. She was expecting his pessimism, yet he cared enough to find her a lawyer and he was her friend, so she was willing to share this information with him. She pushed the covers aside and scooted down in the bed. “It may be the best way to get pregnant.”

“Before you do anything, you’d better talk to Helen. Creating embryos is probably a whole different ballgame in court. The storing of sperm is different than embryos. It’s a human rights argument that might really complicate your case—even jeopardize it. You don’t want to do anything before you actually win in court.”

“Check with Helen before even exploring pregnancy options? Are you kidding me?” When had her attorney become her guardian?

“Not if you want to win.”

“Chill out, Grant. I’m just gathering information while I’m waiting.”

“Okay,” he said, sounding relieved. “So, how about tomorrow night? Want to catch a movie?”

“What? Tired of your own company already?” she teased. “It’s only been a month.”

“A little.” He sounded sheepish. “It’s quiet without the kids.”

That she could believe. A movie at night sounded a bit like a date, but Steve was always good company and needed a distraction. Being single was lonely. It took some getting used to.

“Come on. It’ll be your good deed for the week.”

“Sure, why not.”

“Great. Check the paper and let me know what, when, and where, and I’ll pick you up.”

“What do you want to see?”

“Action or comedy. Something to get my mind off things.”

“’Kay. Text you tomorrow.”

“’Night.”

Steve dropped the phone into the cradle and pushed back in his lounge chair, exhaling loudly. “What’re you doing, Grant?”

When Jenny first passed up his offer to the afternoon off, he’d pressed until she’d agreed to go out with him. Pressed too hard? Things had been good between them lately. It’d taken them four months to get beyond the awkwardness of the night they’d spent together, to form a new bond. A new silken link, thin, pure, and strong.

He was perversely tempted to get involved in Jenny’s case. He was good in court but couldn’t help worrying that if he helped with her case and they lost, she’d blame him. Being brutally honest with himself, he wasn’t ready for a case of this magnitude and exposure. And he was too emotionally involved to do a good job. Plus he still wasn’t convinced she was right. If it’d been him married to Jenny and he died, the more he thought about it, the more he was inclined to believe he wouldn’t want her to have his baby.

If he died, he’d be in a better place, waiting, watching over her. He’d want Jenny to get on with her life. He’d want her to find another good man who would love and cherish her—someone she could share herself with. He’d want her to start fresh.

Jenny had a tremendous capacity to love, and he wouldn’t want to see this hampered by an obsession to hang onto him by fixating on having their baby. Besides, raising a child alone was difficult. His sister did it because she had to—Ralph left her. But to choose to do it alone to memorialize your dead husband wasn’t a good enough reason to put either Jenny or a baby through those long years of additional stress. It might work out just fine, but he wouldn’t choose it for her. However it wasn’t his decision; it was Jenny’s. As much as it went against his every instinct, he had to respect her feelings.

* * *

“Jenny, are you sure Ted wouldn’t want any of his father’s things?” Holding up a couple of silk ties, her mom left Gabe’s closet. “A few ties? A sweater? The sweaters are still in very good shape.”

“He said not, but let’s save a few things and I’ll ask him again.”

Watching her mother disappear back into Gabe’s closet, Jenny folded a worn flannel shirt. How could she tell her about the trial? She had to tell her soon, before Mom read about it in the paper, but she just didn’t know how to bring it up. And she didn’t want to ruin the truce they’d established.

Mom had been so supportive since Gabe’s death. She helped when Jenny asked, but gave her lots of space. She didn’t want to wreck this new friendship and was very afraid that’s exactly what would happen when she told her mother she was going to have Gabe’s baby.

She sat on her bed with Gabe’s folded shirt in her hands while her mother made several more trips in and out of the closet. Coming out again, Mom stuffed Gabe’s bathrobe in the charity box. Jenny jumped up and snatched the terry robe. “This stays.”

“All right,” her mother said, pacifying, but looking puzzled.

“I’ve kept a few of his shirts and sweatshirts too. I wear them when I’m bloated.” She loved the way her favorite Gabe shirts and sweatshirts felt so soft and still smelled of him. She refused to wash them for fear they’d lose his scent. Wearing them made her feel happier and more secure.

“Anything else?”

“No.” Then she smiled, sheepish. “His jacket. I love that leather jacket. Actually, it always looked better on me than him.” She chuckled, embarrassed, as she hung the robe in her closet. “Listen to me. Someone would think I paid that guy to run Gabe over just so I could get his clothes.”

“Jennifer Lyn, that’s morbid!”

“Joking, Mom.” She left the closet and sat on the end of the bed. “But there
is
something I need to tell you.”

“That sounds grim.”

“I should’ve told you a while ago. But we’d been getting along so well, I didn’t want to upset you.”

Mom sat next to her and patted Jenny’s leg. “I’ve really enjoyed the peace between us too.” She looked away and bit her lip. “While we’re being honest, I should admit that I was wrong about your marriage.” Mom took a deep breath and wiped a tear from her eye, muttering, “Boy, this is hard.” She cleared her throat. “It’s just that, well, I was certain that once you were happily married, you’d want to take Michael.”

“Take Michael? Tell him the truth and raise him myself?” Searching her mom’s face, Jenny saw the naked fear in her eyes and the truth in her expression. She’d really worried they’d take Michael from her and Dad. “That’s crazy. Mom, you know that would never happen. We agreed he should never know—at least not until he’s an adult.”

“I know. But you were so young, and I could see how hard it was for you to give him up and still live in the same house. I just thought…” Mom sniffled and waved her hand in a never-mind gesture. “That’s neither here nor there. Anyway, I’m sorry.”