Hayley - Kathryn Shay Page 0,38
doctors. They said I’d be on the field by fall.”
“This fall?”
“Yes. I wanted to be, Mrs. Casella. Bad.”
“I know you did. None of this is your fault, Bobby.” She turned to the jury. “That’s all for now. When we call expert witnesses tomorrow, I might need to question you again.”
Paul approached the witness. And bombarded the kid with questions, one right after the other.
“Mr. Johnson, you sought out the Feinsteins, right?”
“Wasn’t your father pushing you to do that?
“You wanted a quick fix, right?”
“Did anyone coerce you into seeing the Feinsteins?”
“Aren’t you and your family angry at the doctors?”
Hayley objected periodically, but by the time Bobby was excused, Paul had beaten him up emotionally.
She stood. “Judge Larson, may counsel approach the bench?”
“It’s time for a break.” He pounded the gavel. “We’ll recess for fifteen minutes. Both of you come to my chambers.”
Once inside the large office, with walls of books and even a telescope, Larson addressed her. “What is it, ADA Casella?”
“I have never seen a young witness so brow-beaten in my entire career.”
“You should have objected more!” Paul’s tone was curt. But he knew what he’d done and guilt was heavy in his heart.
“I objected all I could.”
“That’s true, Mr. Covington,” the judge said. “You went at a rapid pace.”
“I’m sorry if Ms. Casella couldn’t keep up, but I have a client to defend.”
“Don’t you feel at all bad about what you did to that boy?”
“Why should I? I did my job.”
“Still, Mr. Covington,” Judge Larson put in. “I expect better behavior from you the rest of the afternoon.”
Paul pretended not to care that he’d been scolded by the bench. But it stung. He was just doing his fucking job!
* * *
That night, around six, Hayley and Finn went to Washington Square Park to a local food-tasting festival. They strolled around in companionable silence. “Are you hungry?” she asked her brother.
“Yeah. Let’s try some of those spring rolls.” They headed to the Asian booth and Hayley purchased two of the rice-papers filled with mixed vegetables and meat. She handed Finn one and he took a bite. “Ouch…it needs to cool, so let’s sit.”
They slid onto a bench at a long picnic table filled with people of all ages and ethnic backgrounds. She looked down the row. “I love this mixture of cultures that come to these kinds of things.”
“Me, too.” He gave her a knowing glance. “Are you going to talk about it?”
“About what?”
“About court today and what it was like to argue against Paul again?”
“No.”
“Your feelings won’t stop, you know. If you talk to me about what’s going on, you might be able to find some way out of this.”
“Hell. Being near him, even in court, widened the hole that’s been in my stomach since Saturday.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know what I have to do. I’ve been sad before. With every day that passes, I’ll be better.”
“Sadness like this is different. Loss like this is hard.”
“Maybe.” She eyed him carefully. “I had a date for lunch yesterday.”
“That should help. Tell me about it.”
“He’s a lawyer, and he was smug and self-absorbed. He talked about himself for the entire meal. Afterward, he had the gall to say he wanted to get to know me better.”
“The jerk.”
“I told him in essence to go to hell.”
“Good for you.”
Sighing, she took a tiny bite of the spring roll. “At least I handled him well.”
“Still thinking about Saturday?”
“I’m trying not to. That’s why I don’t want to talk about Paul. I can’t change my feelings overnight, so I need to put him out of my mind.”
“All right.”
“Now, when was your last date, buddy?”
“Hmm. I did hook up with Emma after her book signing. I wouldn’t exactly call it a date.”
“More of a booty call?”
“Not only that. I like her. She’s so smart, and talented. I can hardly keep up with her.”
“I doubt that. You’re the smartest man I know.”
“Why thank you, Sis. All those years of reading books, I guess.”
Hayley knew she shouldn’t ask. He got upset when she did. But damn it, he had talent. “Instead of writing them yourself.”
“Man, you haven’t asked about that since last year. A long time for you.”
“I’m sorry, but I read all the short stories you’ve written. You’ve got so much to offer the literary world.”
“I’m already offering the literary world a lot. As a matter of fact, the New York Times is printing an article in the Arts Section next Sunday designating the best independent bookstores in Manhattan. Guess who’s number one?”
“Fitzgerald’s? Talk about burying the lead. You