Twenty Seven

Sarah had also been called to testify in the lawsuit, so the two women made their way to the courthouse together on the day the trial was to start. On the advice of Fred, they pointedly avoided talking about the night of the accident, which suited Emily fine. Any mention, any thought of Trent had Emily’s stomach in knots. They had not spoken since their last phone call, and Emily was feeling like Judas, both because of her impending testimony, and because she missed him so much.

The courthouse was large and nondescript, an institutional-looking brick building situated on a downtown block in St. Rose. The courtroom itself, once Emily and Sarah were seated inside, was disappointingly sterile, excessively air-conditioned, lit by harsh fluorescent lights, and furnished with run-of-the-mill folding tables and stacking chairs. Hardly the aura of justice and fairness; it felt like a crowded elementary school classroom. And at the moment, it sounded like one, too. There was an informal buzz in the room that contrasted with the solemnity of the proceedings about to take place.

“Kind of uninspiring, isn’t it?” Sarah murmured into Emily’s ear, glancing around the room.

“They definitely need decorator in here,” Emily agreed. Sarah snickered.

They chattered nervously, and Emily’s eyes kept being drawn over her shoulder to the door to the courtroom. Any second, she knew, Trent would walk through it. It felt like a moment of truth. Would he acknowledge or ignore her? Why did the answer to that question matter so much? Emily’s chest was tight with nervous apprehension, so tight it hurt. Contrition had been eating a hole in her stomach for weeks; anticipatory guilt for her testimony, as well as sadness for the pain she knew she had caused him. She was glad she had decided not to eat breakfast; she was certain it would be all over her shoes at this point. She vaguely wondered if Sarah could tell how anxious she was at that moment. She felt faint with the effort of hiding it, but was fairly certain her best friend was seeing through her. Almost as if she was reading Emily’s mind, Sarah reached over and touched her hand. Emily looked up.

Trent and his lawyer were walking up the aisle to the defendant’s table at the front of the courtroom. Emily drew in an involuntary breath as he passed her. His eyes scanned left and right, obviously searching the crowd for someone; for me? she wondered. She dared not hope that he might still want to speak with her at this point, but was convinced beyond a doubt that whatever positive feeling Trent may have for her at this moment would come crashing down as she spoke under oath.

At the moment he passed her, Trent’s eyes locked on Emily’s. She was paralyzed with the electricity that sparked between the two of them with such force that she was sure it had been visible. He slowed his gait and turned his head to look at her. His face was impassable. His lawyer tugged lightly on his sleeve and whispered in his ear. Emily could not look away. Finally, he broke eye contact as the lawyer hustled him toward a chair at the defendant’s table. Emily felt shaken and realized only then that Sarah was still holding her hand, which was slick with sweat. She extracted it from Sarah’s and wiped it on her skirt. She tried to grin apologetically at Sarah, but her smile was more of a grimace, and Sarah leaned into her.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were having a heart attack, girlfriend,” she said. “You’re pale, diaphoretic, and breathing fast. Are you okay?”

For all Sarah’s excessive enthusiasm, Emily was grateful beyond words for the presence of her best friend at that moment. She nodded. “I probably shouldn’t tell you that I’m having chest pain, then,” she replied, attempting a joke. Unfortunately, it was a little too true to be funny.

A calm and experienced emergency room nurse, Sarah subtly took hold of Emily’s wrist and checked her pulse. Satisfied that it was normal, if a little too fast, she reached into her purse and pulled out a roll of antacid tablets. She shoved two at Emily.

“Here,” she said. “Some brilliant doctor once told me to try Tums before calling 911 in this sort of situation.”

Emily laughed, hearing her own words, and gratefully took the tablets. Chalky and reassuring, her stomach settled in minutes, as she stared at the back of Trent’s head, silently willing him to turn around, to look at her again. To give her some kind of signal.

“Wow, you’ve really got it bad for him, don’t you?” Sarah asked, nodding toward Trent.

Emily smiled weakly. “I did,” she admitted. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Why not?” Sarah asked. “I mean, you say he’s a great guy. You have a good time together. What’s the problem?” She made it sound so simple.

Emily paused before replying. “Well, I’m about to wreck his reputation. He could lose this case on my testimony. And Fred told me I shouldn’t have any contact, so I haven’t even spoken to him since we got served.” Except for that one tiny call when I said I wouldn’t see him anymore, she added silently, and the pain in her chest reared again.

Sarah whistled quietly. “Wow. You’re right,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You are about to single-handedly destroy a man here.”

Sarah turned to face Emily and grasped her shoulders with both hands. “How many times have you told me that the right thing will work despite the circumstances?”

Emily looked up at her friend, but remained silent. Tears threatened. Sarah continued. “I have never, and I mean never seen you like this, Em. Just wait and see what happens. Don’t write him off just yet.”

Any reply of Emily’s was cut off when the bailiff strode in. “All rise!” he hollered. Court was in session.