“No, if it's any of your damn business. And I'm not here to discuss Serena. I'm here to talk about Vanessa, and why the hell your wife got temporary custody of that child.”
“She wants to adopt her.” Greg sounded totally without interest in the matter, and inwardly Teddy raged.
“That's totally crazy. She doesn't love her.”
“So what, for chrissake? What the hell difference does love make? Do you think our mother loved us? Shit, who knows and who cares.”
“Greg.” Teddy leaned forward and grabbed his arm before he had time to pour another drink. “Tell the courts you don't want her. Please. The child is miserable with you and Partie. I'm sorry to be so blunt about it, but all you have to do is look at her. She's dying inside. She doesn't ever see you, she's ill at ease with Pattie. You can't keep her in that household like a prisoner, for chrissake.…” Teddy's eyes welled up with tears and his brother freed his arm and poured himself another drink.
“So we'll buy her some toys.”
“Toys!” Teddy jumped to his feet. “Toys! The child has no father, her mother was just murdered, she has seen her baby sister probably for the last time, and you want to buy her toys. Don't you know what that child needs?”
Greg stared at him in annoyance. “She'll have everything she needs, Teddy. Now, for chrissake, forget about it. You can come to see her when you want to. If you want kids so damn much, get married and have some yourself. Pattie and I can't.”
“But you don't want children. And it isn't a question of that, dammit. It's a question of what's right for the child.”
“If you don't like it”—Greg got up and strolled the room, and Teddy saw that he was already unsteady on his feet as he glanced over his shoulder—”then take it back to court. They knew what they were doing. They gave the other kid to the Greeks, they gave Brad's kid to us. You don't have a wife, Ted. The kid needs a home with a man and a woman. You can't bring up a child as a bachelor.”
“Why not? If your wife dies, what do you do, put your children up for adoption?”
“She was never your wife.”
“That's not the point.”
“Yes, it is.” Greg returned to face him. “I think that is the point. You were always in love with that sexy Italian broad Brad married. You hated Partie, and now you want to rock the boat for me again.”
Teddy looked stunned. “When did I ever rock your boat?”
“Shit.” Greg snorted and tossed off the last of his drink. “When didn't you? Everything you ever did Dad thought was terrific. You were Mom's baby, and Brad was the star. Every time I started to get their attention, you'd come along and play baby face and fuck up the whole thing.” He looked petulantly at his younger brother. “I had it up to here with you years ago”—he indicated a line near his eyebrows—”and now you want to make trouble for me with my wife. That woman hasn't got off my back for one thing or another since the day we got married, and if this is what she wants, this is what she gets. I'm sure as hell not going to side with you and make her give the kid back. She'd drive me nuts, so forget it. Just forget it.” He glared at his brother and poured his third drink in half an hour. “Get the message, buddy? Fuck off!”
Teddy stood there watching him for half a minute, almost detachedly wondering how soon he would die of cirrhosis, and then without another word he turned on his heel and left. His next stop that morning was to his mother, but his results with her were no better than they had been with Greg.
“It's ridiculous.” Her face had begun to wrinkle badly, but she was still beautiful, and her hair was still the same thick snowy white. “That child doesn't belong in this family. She never did. And now she doesn't belong with you, or Greg or Pattie. They should send her back to those Greeks where she belongs. Let them have her.”
“Christ, you never change do you?” He felt heartsick that no one would help him. He desperately wanted to have Vanessa, because he loved her, and because in a way she was an extension of Serena. But it was precisely that that made his mother hate her. And the fact that she was Brad's that made Pattie want her. “They'll destroy that child. You know that, don't you?”
“That's not my problem, or yours.”
“The hell it's not. She's your grandchild and my niece.”
“She's the daughter of a whore.” Her voice was vicious and quiet.
“God damn you!” Teddy's eyes filled with tears and he made a gesture as though he might slap his mother, but the violence of his own emotions shocked him, and he turned away, trembling.
“Are you quite finished now?” He didn't answer. “I suggest you leave and don't come back here until you've regained your senses. Your unreasoning passion for that woman has clearly affected your mind. Good afternoon, Teddy.”
He left without saying another word and the door closed quietly behind him.
48
The first hearing of the appeal seemed to take forever. It began the week after Christmas and droned on for almost two weeks. Teddy and his attorney presented every kind of evidence they could think of, Pattie and Greg brought out all of Pattie's friends to testify as to how fond they had been of Brad and how much they wanted his daughter. They claimed that Serena had been jealous and that was why they had never been “allowed” to see the child. Their testimony was heavily laced with pure fabrication, and doggedly Teddy attempted to convince the court that his home was the right place for the child. He promised to buy a larger place, to only tend to his practice four days a week, to hire a female housekeeper and a nurse for the child. He brought out people who had seen him over the years with Vanessa. All to no avail, it seemed. And on the last day of testimony the judge requested that they bring forth the child. She was too young to have any say in the matter, but the court wanted to hear her answer some questions. In a little pleated gray skirt and white blouse, shiny Mary Janes and white socks, her shining blond hair in braids, she was led forward by a matron and seated on the stand. Teddy's mother was watching the proceedings as well, but she had taken the stand for no one. She was merely watching, and most of all she had kept an eye on Greg. Miraculously he had stayed sober for all of the court proceedings, and she had pointed out frequently to Teddy that if he were truly an alcoholic he wouldn't have been able to do that. And Teddy said that wasn't true. As it was, they all knew that within ten minutes of leaving the courtroom he was usually too drunk to get out of the car. But that was just tension, his mother insisted. Teddy didn't choose to argue the point, although he had had his lawyer suggest to the court that Mr. Gregory Fullerton had a problem with alcohol. His wife denied it, under oath, on the stand, and the family doctor was so evasive and protective of privileged information, that Teddy ended up looking like a fool for the accusation.
When Vanessa was called, she sat as she always did now, her feet planted on the floor, her arms hanging down beside her, her eyes staring straight ahead. Teddy was never allowed to be alone with her anymore, but he had had the impression for months that she was slipping more and more into herself. Her eyes seemed glazed and the child who had been so full of life and her mother's magic was listless, but he could never talk with her long enough to pull her back.
The judge looked at her for a moment before beginning. He didn't want either of the attorneys asking her questions. They had already agreed to let the judge handle the questions, and both sides would attempt to be satisfied with that. But she seemed not to hear the judge at first when he spoke to her, and then finally she turned her face up toward where he sat when she heard her name.
“Vanessa?” His voice was gruff but his eyes were kind. He was a big man and he had grandchildren, and he felt for this child with the bleak gray eyes. They looked like dead fields in winter, and he suddenly wanted to take her into his arms. “Do you understand why you're here?” She nodded in silence, her eyes wide. “Can you tell us why?”