Part 25 (1/2)
”She became quite curt with me, yes. And I'd say, sarcastic.”
She was aware that Andrea Stone across the aisle was glancing at Owen Sansom. Her expression seemed puzzled. And Lydia thought she had a pretty good notion why.
”Shouldn't you be objecting to this?” she said. ”I mean, isn't he calling for an opinion or something?”
He waved her off and continued writing whatever he was writing in his pad. ”Means nothing,” he said.
He was starting to scare her.
”Let me ask you this, Dr. Bromberg. Have you ruled out Mrs. Danse as the boy's abuser to this day?”
”How could I? The boy won't say.”
”Nothing further, Your Honor.”
She looked at Sansom.
”I have nothing for this witness, Your Honor,” he said.
No, she thought. Get up. Do something for G.o.d's sake.
Sansom just kept writing.
What in the h.e.l.l was wrong with him?
Was she overreacting? She felt suddenly as though she were drowning. Bromberg had just told the court that there was every possibility that she was the one who was hurting Robert-a lie as outrageous as it was frightening.
She saw a look of displeasure cross Andrea Stone's face as she glanced at them once again and then stood up.
”Doctor,” she said, ”do you have any reason to seriously believe that Mrs. Danse is the abuser here?”
”Objection.”
”I'll allow it. Objection overruled.”
”No. I have no real reason to believe that at all.”
”Do you find it likely?”
”One can't be certain. Not without the boy's saying.”
”But do you find it likely, Doctor?”
”Not really. No, I tend to doubt it.”
”And her response to you. Isn't an angry response from a worried mother completely within the scope of what you'd call perfectly normal behavior under the circ.u.mstances?”
”I suppose it is, yes.”
”I should think so. Thank you, Doctor.”
”We call Lydia Danse, Your Honor.”
There was never any question that she'd have to go through with this, but knowing that didn't make it any easier. She had nothing in her experience to compare it to. Both divorces had been relatively easy, uncontested. Now she felt a sick hollow empty feeling in her stomach and her hands were shaking as she walked to the witness stand, her mouth dry and sour-tasting. She asked for a gla.s.s of water and drank it down immediately.
She began to relax a little as she felt Owen more or less regain control of the situation, questioning her carefully but gently about Robert's symptoms in general and his behavior up to the night he'd come home from Arthur's fouled and hurting. He referred to the notepad frequently. He took a good deal of time going over the once-mysterious knees-to-chest position, getting her to describe it in detail and estimate its frequency and finally, over Wood's objections, establis.h.i.+ng its meaning.
”You had seen this position before, then, is that right, Mrs. Danse?”
”Yes”
”You had personal experience of this position?”
”Yes.”
”Tell us what that experience was.”
”With Arthur. It was Arthur's favorite position. When we were having s.e.x together.”
She felt herself flush.
”a.n.a.l s.e.x?”
”Yes.”
He took her through the night in question. Her discovery of what had happened, packing Robert up and taking him over to Cindy's, going to the bar and accusing Arthur to his face. And then the following day, taking Robert to see Bromberg and Hessler. When she got to the part about cleaning him up that night she began to cry, remembering her helpless pain for him. Otherwise she thought she got through it well enough and calmly.
And then Wood stood, smiling, and walked over.
”You were angry with your husband that night. Weren't you, Mrs. Danse?”
”Yes.”
”Furious?”
”I suppose so, yes.”
”Hysterical, would you say?”
”No. Angry.”
”And you let him know that you were angry in no uncertain terms.”
”Yes I did.”
”In public. At his bar.”
”Yes.”
”Within earshot of others?”