The Choice (47 page)

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Authors: Robert Whitlow

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BOOK: The Choice
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And knew what to ask for.

Sandy bowed her head and prayed that she, like her heavenly Father, would open loving, unselfish arms to the people God brought into her life—Maria, Jeremy, his family, the cheerleaders, and others not yet known. Sandy didn't have a traditional family, but she could hold out her arms as wide as God's grace allowed. It was a vivid picture, something she could hold on to in the days and years to come.

Grateful again, she slipped out of the pew.

Sandy had arranged to meet Jeremy in the parking lot at Ben's office early in the morning to leave for Atlanta. The lot was empty when she arrived. She sat quietly in her car as she waited. Jeremy's white SUV came around the corner.

“Sorry I'm a few minutes late,” Jeremy said when Sandy got in his vehicle. “Chloe had an upset stomach last night, and I didn't get a lot of sleep.”

“What's wrong with her?”

“Probably too much pizza and ice cream at a friend's birthday party. By this morning she felt better than I did, so Leanne sent her to school. Where is the best place to get a cup of coffee in Rutland? I need a second jolt.”

Sandy directed him to a coffee shop with a drive-through window.

“Do you want anything?” he asked.

“No, thanks.”

They left Rutland and headed down the familiar road to Atlanta. Sandy thought about the drive she took in her VW when Jeremy was an unborn child.

“I had a long conversation with the lawyer on the other side of the case,” Jeremy said, taking a sip of coffee.

“You did?” Sandy asked in surprise.

“Yeah, sometimes it's a good idea to talk to opposing counsel before a case gets going and emotions start to run high. That's especially true when dealing with an unfamiliar attorney. I wanted to show him a bit of Southern hospitality. I think I caught him off guard, and he opened up more than he might have if he'd had time to think about it. He's only been in Atlanta for about a year. Most of Dusty's trial experience has been in Los Angeles.”

“Dusty?”

“That's what he goes by. We're about the same age. I'll call him Mr. Abernathy in front of the judge.”

“If you talked to him about Southern hospitality, won't that make him think he can run all over you?”

“If he tries,” Jeremy said with a steely glint in his eye, “it would be a serious mistake.”

“Did you find out why he took the case?”

“A friend asked him to. My guess is that his ‘friend' is a woman he's interested in who supports or volunteers for the organization he's representing.”

“Anything else?”

“Dusty isn't married and doesn't have any children.”

“You asked him about that?”

“Yeah, I told him a little bit about my family and asked about his. I even mentioned that I'm an adoptee who's glad my mother didn't abort me.”

“You didn't tell him who I am, did you?”

“No, but he needed to know that I have a high level of personal interest in this case. I also wanted to find out how hard-core he was about abortion rights. He thinks a woman's right to end a pregnancy should be protected from restrictions.”

“Even late term?”

“We didn't get into specifics.” Jeremy looked in the rearview mirror. “And I told him you were a nice lady who was trying to help a student.”

“Did you say nice older lady?”

“I might have.” Jeremy smiled.

“You didn't!”

“No, but I said you're a well-respected teacher who is not going to come across in court as a fanatic crackpot.”

“Why tell him that?”

“So he'll have questions in his mind about whether his client is telling him the truth about you. Believe me, if he's got any skill as a trial lawyer, he'll size you up in a couple of minutes.”

“What's he going to do after he sizes me up?”

“Try to cut you up.”

“Then now would be a good time for you to tell me how to keep that from happening. And don't go easy on me.”

“Okay,” Jeremy said. “What will you say when Dusty accuses you of trying to force your religious beliefs on Maria?”

Sandy thought for a moment.

“There's so much I could say in answering a question like that.”

She told him about the night she started to take a sleeping pill but couldn't bring herself to risk harming the tiny life within her.

“That's a powerful story,” Jeremy said quietly when she finished. “You want to protect an unborn child because you're a mother. It's your essence. You don't need a religious or political reason to do what is as natural for you as breathing.”

Sandy felt her emotions rising. She stared out the passenger window.

“It must have broken your heart to—” Jeremy began.

“Please,” Sandy said. “Don't make me go there.”

“I'm sorry,” Jeremy responded. “I was thinking out loud. You did the right thing placing me for adoption. I believe that. But everything you're saying makes me appreciate you more.”

“That's not helping either,” Sandy said as she took a pack of tissues from her purse. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “I'm going to have to redo my makeup before we get to the courthouse.”

They rode without speaking for several miles. Sandy wasn't sure what was in Jeremy's mind. She was clawing her way out of raw feelings from old wounds that were still sensitive.

“I need to practice answering questions,” she said when she'd regained her composure. “Let's try again.”

Jeremy repositioned his hands on the steering wheel.

“Okay, but don't hesitate to use what you just told me in an answer.”

“Which part?”

“How you can't stand the thought of an unborn baby being harmed.”

“I'm not sure I can do that without crying.”

“Genuine tears aren't a bad thing in court, but I think you're going to have your game face on.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Jeremy smiled. “Because I'm the same way. I can be a softy in private, but when something important is on the line, I'm serious and focused.”

“I hope you're right.”

Sandy told him some of the things she knew about fetal development, beginning with what she'd learned during her first few days at Linda's house.

“I look forward to meeting your aunt,” he said. “And adding a scientific reason for your belief helps.” Jeremy switched lanes to pass a car. “Also, don't hesitate to use an answer as a chance to give a little speech. Dusty will try to make you sound like a bigoted member of a conservative religious group. You can use a question like that to explain to the judge that you have strongly held beliefs yet understand your role as a public school teacher with almost thirty years of experience. That way, you admit what is true but put it in the context of your professional obligation to Maria. A student has a right to know about her options and then make up her own mind. You can give the judge examples of conversations you've had with Maria and what you told her.”

“Am I allowed to do that? Isn't that what they call hearsay?”

“No, it would be hearsay if you testify to what Maria said to you.”

“I'm not sure I remember what I've told her.”

Jeremy glanced at her. “You're a woman. You remember plenty, especially about something as emotionally charged as this.”

Sandy had to admit she could recall a lot of details about the times she and Maria had talked since the first afternoon on the bench near the school entrance.

“Okay, but I don't want to get too carried away.”

“Let the judge set the limits. His opinion is the only one that matters.”

“Won't you be questioning me first?”

“Not necessarily. I suspect Dusty will call you for purposes of cross-examination during the presentation of his evidence. Remember, there's nothing wrong with pausing for a second or two before responding. That will give you a chance to collect your thoughts so you say what you want to, not what he's trying to coerce from you. There's nothing more frustrating to a lawyer than repeatedly failing to make a witness look bad.”

Sandy was less confident than Jeremy that she was going to be such a dynamite witness.

Jeremy continued.

“I'll be hitting hard on the point that you were exercising free-speech rights on a controversial topic about which sincere people have different opinions. A primary purpose of the free-speech provision of the First Amendment is to create a society where ideas can be expressed without governmental restriction.”

“That makes sense.”

“Unfortunately, the free-speech clause isn't as strong a weapon as some of us would like it to be, especially when it comes to speech that is linked to religion. You can tell the judge that your pro-life opinions are based on science, but we can't deny that your faith plays a big role in what you believe. And when religious free speech comes into conflict with the prohibition against governmental establishment of religion, religious speech often loses.”

“How am I establishing religion?”

“You're a schoolteacher, a paid government employee. Remember, that's the angle I think the women's organization wants to exploit. Schools are a huge battleground in the abortion fight because that's where teenage girls are influenced.”

“Did you talk to the other lawyer about that?”

“No, it would have made him shift into advocacy mode. My purpose in calling him was to create a little bit of personal rapport with him as a fellow attorney.”

“You were manipulating him.”

Jeremy smiled. “In a friendly, Southern sort of way.”

They approached the gas station where Sandy had encountered the old woman who told her she was going to have twins. The structure had been remodeled and the name changed several times. There were rows of shiny new pumps out front.

“I need gas,” Jeremy said as he turned into the parking lot.

“This place has been here for a long time,” Sandy said.

She got out of the car and looked around. No strange old women seemed to be lurking in the shadows.

“Do you want anything?” she asked.

“No, thanks.”

While Jeremy filled up the gas tank, Sandy went inside and tried to reconstruct her makeup in the restroom.

“You look great,” Jeremy said when she returned to the car.

“I appreciate the compliment, but I'd rather you not say anything else that will make me cry.”

“I'll do my best to avoid sensitive topics.” Jeremy grinned. “If we don't hit any traffic problems, we'll be a half hour early for the hearing.”

“That will be thirty minutes for me to get more and more nervous.”

They pulled away from the pumps.

“It's impossible not to be nervous, but you know what you've done and what you haven't done.”

“Can we practice some more?” Sandy asked. “It helps keep me from thinking about how scared I'm going to be.”

Until they reached the outskirts of Atlanta, Jeremy pretended he was Dusty Abernathy. Several times Sandy stumbled, and Jeremy gently corrected her. Twice she used a question as an excuse to give a longer explanation of her motivation for helping Maria. The second time, Jeremy laughed.

“Lawyers on TV control witnesses a lot better than in real life. If a witness said what you just said to me, I'd be tempted to crawl back to the counsel table and wait to fight another day.” Jeremy paused. “The real wild card is what Judge Tompkins wants to hear. There won't be a jury, so his opinion is the only one that matters. If he asks questions, turn in your chair so you can make eye contact with him when you answer. The judge would rather hear what you have to say than the words Dusty and I try to put in your mouth.”

The Richard B. Russell Federal Building came into view. The white structure, named after a longtime Georgia senator, dominated a city block. Jeremy drove into a parking deck.

“I didn't realize the courthouse was this big,” Sandy said. “Do you know where to go when we get inside?”

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