by Joani Ascher
“He accused Prescott of buying Ellen from him for me.”
Mrs. Roche narrowed her eyes. “So he did take money for her. He always swore to me that he didn’t.”
“Prescott is on trial,” Jane explained. “He may have to go to prison, and the court may reverse the adoption. Ellen could go back to her father’s custody.”
“I see.”
“She’d have to live with Martin and rely on him to take care of her. And Prescott could be ruined.” She tried not to cry again, but the tears just welled up anyway. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I assume you’re talking about your husband,” said Mrs. Roche in a cold voice.
Jane looked at her, worried about the tone of her comment. She stood up and looked sadly at her daughter’s grandmother. “You can’t help me, can you?”
Mrs. Roche smoothed the light blanket that lay across her legs. “I don’t think you need me. Besides, Martin is my son.” She reached out a withered arm toward Jane. “Don’t worry. I’m sure nothing will happen.”
****
Jane let herself into the apartment, relieved to find no one else at home. They’d left a note saying they were going to see a movie. She knew she had only been grasping at straws, but she could not just let the inevitable happen without at least trying to help. Now her profound sense of defeat, bordering on despair, was not something she wanted her family to see.
When they got home a few hours later, Jane put on her best optimistic face and cheered them up. But when the morning papers came, bearing headlines such as, “The wisdom of Solomon needed to choose,” and editorials including, “Children come from God, not as presents from married boyfriends,” the family was plunged into despair.
****
“This court will now resume session,” said the bailiff. Jane and the rest of the people there stood while the judge took his place on the bench.
Mr. Atherton had explained that the prosecutor would make his summation first, and then, depending on how long those statements had run, there would either be a recess or Mr. Atherton would present his closing remarks. But instead of the prosecutor taking his place at the podium, he handed a note to the judge. Both attorneys were called forward to speak with the judge.
“Step back to your places,” he said, banging his gavel. Turning to the court, he said, “There is another witness.”
The courtroom was instantly filled with the sound of murmuring, as people asked each other who would be coming forward.
“I know this is unusual, and I wouldn’t ordinarily allow it, but this witness has gone to a considerable amount of effort to be here today, and the prosecution feels we should hear her.” To the bailiff he said, “Please bring her in.”
Jane stood up in surprise as she saw Mrs. Roche being wheeled by a nurse to the front of the courtroom. Ellen pulled on her arm to get her to sit back down.
“I thought she wouldn’t be coming here,” Ellen whispered.
“That’s what I thought too.”
“Can I talk to her? Afterward, I mean. I haven’t seen her in so long.”
“I hope so, honey.” But Jane worried about whether she would still want to, after the testimony. And she worried about what the old lady would say.
The prosecutor had the look of a man assured of winning as he approached Mrs. Roche, who had been helped onto the witness stand. “I want to thank you for your extraordinary effort to come here today. I understand you have something you want to say to the court.”
“Well, aren’t you going to ask me any questions?” said Mrs. Roche, seemingly put out that the prosecutor was going to have her do his work for him.
“Oh, yes, ma’am,” he said, obviously taken aback. “Are you Martin Roche’s mother?”
“Yes. I thought you knew that.”
“Ahem. Yes, I did. Then you are Ellen Baldwin’s grandmother, am I correct?”
“Yes.”
“And as such, you also suffered the loss of your grandchild when her father was forced to give her up for adoption to Miss Baldwin, correct?”
“Objection, your honor. He is leading the witness.”
“Sustained.”
“Let me rephrase. Did you experience a loss when Ellen was given up for adoption?”
Mrs. Roche shook her head. “No. I did not suffer at all. I saw her just as often. She was still my granddaughter.”
The prosecutor’s grin slipped a bit. He furrowed his brows, and paused. But then he asked another question. “Your son was forced to give up his child by Mr. Prescott Weaver, is that correct?”
Mrs. Roche widened her eyes. “Have you ever tried to get Martin to do anything? It’s impossible. No one could force him to do something if he didn’t want to.”
“But in the face of all that money, he decided to give his child up, didn’t he?”
“I never heard about the money until recently. He sure didn’t use any of it to pay me back for taking care of his baby when he left her with me for such a long time. And he never once asked about her when I had her, or came to see her.” She scowled. “He didn’t care at all about that child, not for a minute.”
The prosecutor’s smile was entirely gone, and his face looked pinched. “I have no further questions, your honor. I’m sorry for troubling you, ma’am. Let me help you get back into your chair.”
“Your honor,” said Mr. Atherton, jumping to his feet. “I’d like to cross-examine the witness.”
The prosecutor opened his mouth to protest to the judge, but the judge’s nod at Mr. Atherton made him close it again. He sat back down, nervously tapping his pencil.
“You told this court that you were not aware your son had received money at the time he gave the baby up for adoption, is that correct?”
“Yes. All I know is that he went away right after that, and he didn’t come to see me again until years later, after he got out of jail.”
A murmur filled the courtroom. Ellen’s face got very pale, and she clutched Jane’s hand.
“Mrs. Roche,” said Mr. Atherton, after the judge had banged his gavel to quiet the courtroom. “From your earlier testimony, it sounds as if you were not opposed to the adoption of your granddaughter by Miss Baldwin. Is that true?”
“I was not. I was worried, at first, that I might not get to see the baby any more, but Jane has always kept in touch. I’ve spent a lot of time with Ellen over the years.”
“More than your son did?”
“As I said before, he never cared about her. And it was probably good, so that sweet little girl didn’t have to listen to him bad mouth her mother. He really hates Jane.”
“No further questions.”
As Mr. Atherton sat down, the prosecutor got up. “Redirect, your honor?”
“Go ahead.”
“You said that Martin changed his mind about not seeing his daughter. Correct?”
“You could say that.”
“He went to see her, when she was eight, didn’t he?”
“Yes. He wanted me to give him money, as usual, after he got out of prison. Not that I have much, but that didn’t stop him from wanting it. I told him he would never get one red cent out of me again, since he had disappointed me so much, not giving so much as a fig for his little girl, his own flesh and blood. That was why he went to see Ellen. To try to get back on my good side. He said he’d show me how much he cares about his kid.”
Jane gasped. So it had not even been Martin’s idea to come and see Ellen in the first place. She felt as if she were going to faint.
Mrs. Roche sighed. “All I wanted him to do was ask me about her, but he never seemed to think of it.”
The prosecutor looked shaken, but continued. “So your comments got him to think about how his daughter was and how much he missed her and wanted to see her?”
“If that’s how you want to look at it. It was probably just more of Martin being Martin. When I offered to take him and say he was a friend of mine, so he could see her, but not tell her who he was, he said,
‘I don’t need you to go, Ma. You never did anything for me.’ That was when he wrote to Jane and said he was coming.”
Mrs. Roche looked across the courtroom directly at Jane. “I’m so sorry. I should have warned you when he told me he would go see Ellen. I never believed he’d really do it.”
The prosecutor tried to get Mrs. Roche to stop talking. “Your honor,” he said, several times.
The judge banged his gavel repeatedly. “Madame, please confine your testimony to the questions asked.”
But Mrs. Roche continued. “I felt so guilty, for years afterward, that I couldn’t tell you what I’d done.” She was crying now. “I’m so sorry I raised such a poor excuse for a human being. And after I saw yesterday’s newspapers, I knew I had to come and tell the truth.”
Ellen ran to the front of the room and threw herself into Mrs. Roche’s lap. “It’s okay, Grandma.”
The judge banged his gavel until the court got quiet, and Ellen went back to her seat.
The prosecutor, looking angry, said, “Did someone tell you to say this, Mrs. Roche?”
“No.”
“No one came to see you at your nursing home, pertaining to this case?”
“Jane came to see me. On Saturday, but she didn’t tell me what to say. She wouldn’t. She’s the most honest, reputable woman I know.”
“Any more questions?” asked the judge.
The prosecutor hung his head. “No, your honor.”
****
There was a short recess, allowing for order to be restored and for Mrs. Roche to visit with her granddaughter before she went back to her nursing home. Jane went to thank her for her honesty.
“I didn’t think you would come,” she said.
“I had to. It wouldn’t have been fair for me not to tell the truth. What your husband did, so you could adopt Ellen and take care of her, was the nicest thing I ever heard of. Martin had no business starting trouble, and if he tries to get custody of her, I’ll fight it with every breath in my body. He’d be no better now as a father than he was back when she was a baby.” She took a deep breath and smiled. “Now you go back in there and help your husband win this case.”
“We’ll see you soon,” Jane promised.
After summations, Prescott, Jane, and Ellen waited in the hall for the jury’s decision. The time dragged endlessly, and Ellen offered to go find them some coffee.
****
“I’m sorry, Jane,” Prescott said. “I wish this had never come into the open. Ellen keeps looking at me as if I’m a stranger.”
“She’ll learn to deal with this,” Jane assured him. “But I think she feels such a sense of loss. She wondered why you never asked to adopt her.”
“Did she say she wanted that?”
“Of course she does. Both of us do. But you didn’t ask.”
“I felt I had no right. How could I ask for such a gift?”
Jane shook her head as if to clear it. “Are you saying you wanted to, but thought the idea should come from us? But how could we ask you to do such a thing?”
“I felt the same way. How could I ask for her to let me adopt her?”
Ellen returned, carefully balancing the coffee cups. “I hope you like it with milk,” she said.
Prescott took them from her and handed one to Jane. “This wouldn’t be a good time, would it?”
Jane shrugged. “There’s so much going on, but I think it’s important to clear the air.” She turned to Ellen. “It seems we all wanted the same thing, but each of us thought it would be too much to ask. I guess that means we’ll all appreciate it more.”
“What do you mean?”
Prescott took Ellen’s hand. “It would make me so happy if you let me adopt you.”
Instead of smiling, Ellen pulled away and frowned. “You told him that was what I wanted, and he said he would do it…out of pity?”
“Of course not,” said Jane.
Prescott understood. “I’ve always wanted to. Ever since I first asked Jane to marry me. But I didn’t think I had any right to ask.”
Ellen considered his statement for a few minutes. She had a serious look on her face, almost an angry look, but then she giggled and looked up at him.
“I’d love it if you would adopt me.”
Prescott felt he was being given the best gift of his life, second only to Jane’s hand in marriage. Now he would have Ellen as his own daughter, a girl he could not love more if he had sat with a box of cigars in the fathers’ waiting room, anticipating her arrival.
“Do you mean it?” he stammered. “You’ll let me adopt you?”
Ellen’s eyes brimmed with tears as she nodded.
Extending his elbow for Ellen to interlock with her own, he said, “It will complete my life’s wishes. Then no one can ever come between us again.”
****
His wide smile suddenly faded. “But I will not do it if I have to go to jail.”
Jane felt her own bubble of happiness burst. That possibility was too awful to consider, almost as bad as the thought of losing Ellen.
Mr. Atherton came out of the courtroom. “The jury has asked to review some of the testimony and then recessed until tomorrow. Go home and get some rest.” He looked extremely tired himself, and his usual look of confidence seemed strained. He declined to speculate on what the jury was looking for.
There was little said between Jane and Prescott when they got home, although they tried to keep their spirits up for Ellen. But it didn’t work, as Jane discovered when she found Ellen, already in her nightgown, packing her suitcase.
“What are you doing?” Jane asked, with her heart breaking from the grief-stricken look on her daughter’s face.
“I don’t want to have to pack tomorrow,” she said. “It would be too hard.”
“Where are you going?”
Ellen kept her head down as she spoke. Jane saw teardrops falling onto the light blue bedspread. “They’re going to make me go to Martin’s.”
For a moment, Jane was confused. “Is that what you want?”
“Of course not!” Ellen turned to her. “I never want to leave you and Uncle Prescott. I want him to be my father. But they don’t care what a little girl has to say.”
“This jury won’t be making any decision on that,” Jane reassured her. “This is only about what Prescott did.”
“He did it for us! And I’m glad he did. I don’t want to go to Martin’s. I don’t ever want to see or hear him again.”
Jane wished she could tell Ellen she would not have to and have it be true, but she could not be sure. A hearing was a possibility—a probability, according to Mr. Atherton—if Prescott were to be convicted.
She gently took Ellen’s suitcase off the bed and took her daughter’s hands in her own. “Listen to me. I will not let you go anywhere without the fight of my life.” She brushed a tear from Ellen’s cheek, seeing that her eyes were filled with more tears. “You are mine forever. As long as you want me.”
Ellen threw her arms around Jane and held her tight. “Forever,” she said. “And longer.”
Jane pulled back the covers and helped Ellen into bed as if she were a small child. “Get some sleep,” she said. “And don’t worry. I won’t let you go.”
She was able to get all the way out of Ellen’s room and even close the door behind her before she collapsed in tears in the hallway. Prescott found her there.
He lifted her to her feet, and then off her feet, and carried her to their bedroom. “It will be all right,” he said, placing her on the bed. “But it might not be all right soon enough.”
Jane was frightened by his tone. “What do you mean?”
“If I am convicted, I want you to divorce me.”
“Never! We’ll file an appeal.”
He turned tortured eyes to her. “Please. You must listen. It’s the same as I told Ellen. You must be free of me if the jury finds me guilty. Otherwise you might lose your daughter, and I can never let that happen.”
Sh
e opened her mouth to protest, but he put his finger on her lips. “You can’t let Martin have her,” he said. “It was wrong twelve years ago, and it’s more wrong now.” He took his finger away. “Promise me.”
Jane could barely speak. “How can I let you go?” she whispered.
“I can survive. Ellen can’t.”
Jane shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. She could not bear to think about it. Prescott took her in his arms and held her tight.
****
“They’re coming back,” said Mr. Atherton, when they arrived at the courthouse at eleven the next morning. “They wanted to review Martin’s testimony, and Prescott’s.” He looked at his client. “It’s your word against his, when you come right down to it.” He held the door open for them. “Let’s go see what they decided.”
Knees shaking, Jane took Ellen’s hand and followed her husband back into the courtroom. They took their places behind Prescott, who stood facing the judge.
As the jury filed in, Mr. Atherton motioned for Prescott to remain standing.
“Has the jury reached a verdict?” asked the judge.
The foreman rose. “We have your honor.” He handed a paper to the bailiff, who gave it to the judge.
“Please state your verdict,” the judge directed the foreman.
“In the matter of the State versus Prescott Weaver, on the first count, intimidation, we find the defendant not guilty.”
A murmur rippled across the courtroom. Jane clutched the arm of her chair and held her breath for the next verdict.
“On the second count, extortion, we find the defendant not guilty.” The crowd started talking at once, and people congratulated Prescott.
The judge banged his gavel to restore order. “The jury is to be thanked for the care and consideration they displayed.” He turned to Prescott. “You are free to go.” He banged his gavel one more time. “This court is adjourned.” Reporters ran out of the courtroom to get their stories into the evening papers.
Jane, with Ellen, pushed through the people surrounding her husband and went to stand beside him. All three turned to face the cameras, and several pictures were taken of Jane and Prescott and his soon-to-be daughter.
Anne and Mrs. McGill stood smiling just outside the courtroom doors. Jane brought her family over to join them, pausing while Prescott shook hands with the many well-wishers who had gathered. She briefly imagined they included all those people she had loved in her past before she hugged the people who were her present, her future, and her whole world.