by Lee Boschen
Chapter Twenty-Nine
After twenty-four hours observation, Richard signed himself out of the hospital and went home with Leslie. Four days later, Leslie arranged for he and his two ‘wives’ to meet in her office at the law firm of Meriwether, Holcomb, Whitby, Pratt. She instructed Richard to smile, look sad, or appear bewildered by it all, as appropriate. But above all, no matter what Leslie said, he was to remain absolutely silent.
Leslie seated the two women and the two Tommys, and introduced Mrs. Webster to Mrs. Webley, and herself as Mrs. Webb. Then she began her remarks. “First, I want to make certain—” She waved a dismissive hand toward Richard. “Is this the man you came to see?"
Webster glanced at Richard, and her lips curled in disdain. “Oh, yes. Older, of course, like all of us, but he's the one, all right. No question about it."
Webley's look at Richard was dark. “I don't know that I'd use the word ‘man.’ Bum, perhaps. But, yes, he's the one."
Leslie kept her voice coolly professional, even as anger blazed like wildfire in her. She nodded. “Very well.” You just convicted yourselves, ladies, and you belong in jail. If it hadn't been for you two, how much grief, how much terror, how much sorrow would we have been spared. But ... you lucked out; we've had enough trouble. Now we want to get on with our lives. Your penalty—whatever amount you've spent to set up this scam. And it can't have been cheap.
She drew a deep, calming breath. “It's worse than either of you thought, ladies,” she continued. “From the documents you've shown me, it's clear that Mister Webb is a multiple bigamist.” She shook her head sadly. “I don't want to shock you, but Mr. Webb is married to both of you. Oh, yes,” she continued as the two women turned to look wide-eyed at each other. “We need a new word to describe him—trigamist, perhaps, since he has three wives at the same time. At least,” she said, scowling at Richard, “that's the current count."
Richard silently stared down at his hands.
"But he wasn't very clever when he chose his third wife. He married a lawyer. Me. And I'm going to make sure he remembers that choice for a long, long time."
So long as we both shall live, she silently vowed.
"However, you'll be happy to learn that there remains only one last detail before settling your claims.” Then she asked, “Tell me, boys, would you mind if we had a nurse take a few drops of your blood?"
Sullen Timmy Webster looked at Barbara Webster. Timmy Webley shrugged and smiled at Leslie.
Webster's eyes narrowed. “What on earth for?"
A frowning Barbara Webley also wanted to know why. “Yes, what do you need with Timmy's blood?"
"DNA testing for paternity. Absolutely guaranteed to prove that these boys are his sons.” She smiled coolly at Richard. “He'll have to have a blood sample taken too, and I happen to know he hates needles."
"But why is this necessary,” asked Barbara Webster. “Surely the papers I showed you—"
"Yes,” Barbara Webley interjected. “You already have the proof you need."
Leslie held up her hands. “I agree with you completely, ladies. But, perhaps you've heard. Mister Webb has lost his memory as the result of a physical trauma. He denies everything. The only way I could get him to agree to give you what you have coming—” Leslie showed her teeth in a gesture fully as friendly as any wolf. “I have to prove to him that these two boys are his sons. The blood tests will do that beyond any shadow of doubt."
Her look at Richard was filled with disdain. He turned to look out the window. “Since you both know him better than I, you probably won't be surprised to learn that, with a callous disregard for your feelings, he suggests that the tests will prove that they couldn't possibly be his sons. As an attorney, I must confess that I find your paperwork impeccable. But he, as you can imagine, he says you are both confused as to his identity. He insists that, regardless of my personal feelings, as his attorney I must consider the possibility, however remote, of attempted fraud."
Leslie's tinkle of laughter dismissed the idea as preposterous. “Fraud. Imagine that. Why, it amounts to the same thing as accusing you of a felony.” She sighed, shaking her head sadly. “However, he insists, so when would it be convenient for you and the boys...?"
Her question hung in the air.
Barbara Webster shared a look with Barbara Webley, and a faint frown marred Webster's delicate features. Watching closely, Leslie could see the muscles working as Webley gritted her teeth, and the look Webley gave Webster was poisonous. Leslie stifled a smile—oh, yes, Webley was angry!
Webster returned her gaze to Leslie, then aimed a disdainful look at Richard. “I'm certainly not concerned with what he thinks, but, um ... I do have some other commitments today.” She rose to her feet. “Why don't I give you a call when Timmy and I could meet with you for his test?"
"My situation exactly,” Barbara Webley said. Her hands were balled into hard fists. “But I'll be in touch sometime tomorrow and we'll set a time.” She sneered at Richard. “Hopefully, he won't be there. Come along, Timmy."
"Oh,” Leslie called out to their backs, “just a moment. Before you go, I'll need statements from each of you about the shameless way he—” But then she was talking to her office door, which had just been resoundingly closed.
In the silence which followed, Leslie asked, “Well now, what do you suppose those two are saying to each other about now?"
Richard smiled, eyeing Leslie admiringly. “From three wives down to one,” he said. “You're a fast worker."
"I think they got off pretty easily,” Leslie said. “They used to hang poachers, you know."
"Do I get to keep the wife I have left?"
She crossed her office to perch on the arm of his chair. “Do you want to?"
He nodded. “Yes,” he said earnestly. “I do.” He put his arms around her waist and eased her onto his lap.
Smiling, she leaned against him, and Richard was warmed by the glow he'd felt when he had first seen her from his hospital bed.
"Why,” she asked.
He sighed deeply. “There's something about you,” he said. “Something I want to keep close to me. Maybe some day I'll be able to put a name to it. But in the meantime...” Then, a quizzical look. “Leslie, we are really married, aren't we?"
Leslie put her arms around him, snuggling close. “Uh-huh,” she murmured, a contented grin on her face. “You wanna see my paperwork?"
Lee Boschen
I wrote my first story when I was in the second grade. I remember it had something to do with an Egyptian pharaoh, but fortunately the story was later lost. Then, through life's twists and turns, I became a technical writer, then, finally, a writer in the financial services industry.
Avid sailors, Lee and his wife Judy crossed the Atlantic in their sailboat, Tempo. “It took us one day longer than it took Columbus.” They then completed a leisurely journey through the Caribbean Islands. At this point Lee began thinking of writing the story of their adventures, but life had another twist in store. He enjoyed reading romances, and decided that's what he really wanted to write. He soon learned that writing romance fiction was a far cry from the technical writing he was used to, so he joined Romance Writers of America and settled down to hone a new skill.
"Romance fiction is a real labor of love. I think it helps that I'm still crazy about my wife after 18 years."
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