“But Reid will be going to that—”
Wade waves me away. “Don’t be obtuse, Max. You know what I mean. A red tie says,Notice me.”
I pause. Wade is wearing the most perfectly tailored suit I’ve ever seen. His initials are embroidered on the French cuff of his shirt. He’s got a pocket square made of silk.“You’rewearing a red tie,” I say.
“My point exactly,” Wade replies. “Now go get dressed.”
An hour later, we are crammed at one of the tables in the front of the courtroom: Liddy, Reid, Ben Benjamin, Wade, and me. I haven’t spoken to Liddy all morning. She’s probably the one person who could calm me down, but every time I try, Wade remembers something else he needs to tell me about my behavior in court:Sit up straight, don’t fidget, don’t make faces at the judge. Don’t react to anything the other side says, no matter how much it upsets you.From what he’s said, you’d think I was about to have my stage debut instead of just sitting through a legal motion.
My tie is choking me, but every time I yank at it, Wade or Reid tells me to quit.
“Showtime,” Wade murmurs, and I turn around to see what he’s looking at. Zoe’s just walked into the courtroom, along with Vanessa and a tiny lady with bouncy black curls that ricochet in all directions from her scalp.
“We’re outnumbered,” Vanessa says quietly, but I can hear her all the same, and I like the idea that Wade’s already thrown them off their game. Zoe doesn’t look at me as she takes her seat. I bet that little lawyer gave her a bunch of rules to follow, too.
Wade quietly dials a number on his cell phone, and, a moment later, the double doors at the back of the courtroom open and a young woman who works as a paralegal for Ben Benjamin wheels a hand truck full of books down the aisle. She stacks them on the table in front of Wade, while Zoe and Vanessa and their lawyer watch. There are books of research, books of law from other states. I start reading the titles on the spines:Traditional Marriage. The Preservation of Family Values.
The last book she sets on top of the pile is the Bible.
“Hey, Zoe,” the female lawyer says. “You know the difference between a catfish and Wade Preston? One’s a slimy, scum-sucking bottom-feeder. And the other one’s just a fish.”
A man stands up. “All rise, the honorable Padraic O’Neill presiding.”
The judge enters from another door. He is tall, with a mane of white hair that has a tiny triangle of black at the widow’s peak. Two deep lines bracket his mouth, as if his frown needed any more attention drawn to it.
When he sits down, we do, too.“Baxter versus Baxter,”the clerk reads.
The judge slips a pair of reading glasses on. “Whose motion is this?”
Ben Benjamin stands. “Your Honor, I’m here today on the behalf of third-party plaintiffs, Reid and Liddy Baxter. My client is joining in the effort to have them impleaded into the case, and my colleague, Mr. Preston, and I would very much like to be heard on that issue.”
The judge’s face crinkles in a smile. “Why, Benny Benjamin! Always a pleasure to have you in court. I get to see if you managed to learn anything I ever taught you.” He glances over the paperwork in his folder. “Now, what is this motion about exactly?”
“Judge, this a custody battle over three frozen embryos that remained after the divorce of Max and Zoe Baxter. Reid and Liddy Baxter are my client’s brother and sister-in-law. They wish—and Max wishes—to gain custody of the embryos for the purpose of giving them to his brother and sister-in-law to gestate and bring to term and raise as their own children.”
Judge O’Neill’s eyebrows knit together. “You’re telling me there’s a final judgment about property that the parties didn’t deal with during their divorce?”
Wade stands up beside me. His cologne smells like limes. “Your Honor, with all due respect,” he says, “we are talking aboutchildren.About pre-bornchildren—”
Across the aisle, Zoe’s attorney rises. “Objection, Your Honor. This is ludicrous. Can someone please tell Mr. Preston we’re not in Louisiana?”
Judge O’Neill points at Wade. “You! Sit down right now.”
“Your Honor,” Zoe’s lawyer says, “Max Baxter is using biology as a trump card to take three frozen embryos away from my client—who is one of the intended parents. She and her legal spouse intend to raise them in a healthy, loving family.”
“Where’s her legal spouse?” O’Neill asks. “I don’t see him sitting next to her.”
“My client is legally married to her spouse, Vanessa Shaw, in the state of Massachusetts.”
“Well, Ms. Moretti,” the judge replies, “she’s not legally married in Rhode Island. Now, let me get this straight—”
Behind me, I hear Vanessa stifle a snort. “But we’renot,”she murmurs.
“—You want the embryos.” He points at Zoe. “And you want them,” he says, pointing at me, and finally he points to Reid and Liddy. “And nowtheywant them?”
“Actually, Your Honor,” Zoe’s lawyer says, “Max Baxter doesn’t want the embryos. He plans to give them away.”
Wade stands up. “To the contrary, Your Honor. Max wants his children to be raised in a traditional family, not a sexually deviant one.”
