HAPPY BIRTHDAY SCHIMES!
There are more author's notes at the end of the story, but…well…it's a LONG author's note. So, in an attempt not to take away from the story I'm just going to say that this is a birthday present for SChimes. There will be two chapters and the second one will be posted soon...-ish.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SCHIMES!
Dissolution of a Mirage
"For the record, we're beginning the hearing of case 53863 for the Dissolution of Marriage: Raydor vs Raydor. The Petitioner, Captain Sharon Raydor, represented by Attorney Anthony Caine. The respondent, Jack Raydor, represented by Attorney Leigh Ann Clarkson. Clerk, please swear both parties." Judge Drew kept her eyes focused on the computer screen that sat just slightly to her left.
Raising her right hand, the clerk, a middle aged woman with dirty blonde hair, stood from her desk that resided directly in front of the judge. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
Both petitioner and respondent had also risen to their feet, in keeping with a tradition that few respected, and responded simultaneously, "I do."
As both parties reclaimed their seats, the judge continued looking at her computer screen as she spoke, "I see attempts of mediation and settlements have failed?"
It was the attorneys who rose to their feet this time.
"Yes, Your Honor," Clarkson replied first, while Caine agreed.
"Why?" The judge continued to study the monitor filled with motions and filings relevant to the case.
Caine, a man in his sixties who'd been working family law in California for thirty years, smiled amicably at the slightly younger attorney and with a nod then gestured for her to explain.
"Your Honor, Mr. Raydor wishes—"
"I didn't ask for you to argue your case yet, Mrs. Clarkson. Just for a brief summary as to why your and Mr. Caine's clients cannot come to an agreement, especially seeing as to how they've been legally separated for twenty years."
"That's the root of the problem, Your Honor," Caine answered. "Because of the separation, there is significant disagreement about what constitutes marital property. For example, my client's pension—"
"Thank you, Mr. Caine," Judge Drew interrupted. "Mrs. Clarkson, is there any objection to me taking notice of the petition?"
"No, Your Honor."
"Let's get started then. Mr. Caine…"
Clarkson reclaimed her seat while Mr. Caine moved to stand in front in the podium directly in front of the judge. "To begin, Your Honor, I would like to request the mental health evaluation my client voluntarily underwent remain sealed from the respondent and public record."
"Objections, Mrs. Clarkson?"
Clarkson stood. "Yes. Your Honor, the findings of that evaluation have significant impact in determining the motives behind the actions of both Mr. and Captain Raydor."
Judge Drew found the evaluation in the records and skimmed over its contents to refresh her memory. She didn't quite understand why Caine wished to prevent the discovery of the evaluation by the respondent when it weighed so favorably in his client's interest. Her eyes traveled to the petitioner briefly. A decorated LAPD Captain who would look more at home in a law office than with a gun on her hip. Her eyes went back to the evaluation. "….significant evidence… psychological… maltreatment…" A police captain who was a victim of abuse. Judge Drew suddenly understood that this woman would rather risk paying alimony to her husband than admit she stayed married to a man who - according to the evaluation - used and manipulated her. "They do have significant impact on my judgement, however. Since the evaluation was voluntary, as long as Mr. Caine wishes to keep it from the respondent, he may do so."
Clarkson took her seat once more.
"Thank you," Mr. Caine addressed the court. "Your Honor, Captain Raydor began her career with the LAPD…."
Sharon kept her eyes focused on her attorney with the occasional glance at the judge. She refused to look to her left where her soon-to-be ex-husband was seated. Focusing on her breathing, she maintained her impassive and neutral look. She'd had enough practice over the years. Practice in interrogation rooms. Practice sitting in numerous court rooms. But she had never been in a courtroom on this floor. The fifteenth floor. Never had she had reason to come to Family Court. And she never wanted to come back. Even if the view through the glass wall behind the judge's seat was better.
Thirty years ago she wouldn't have believed they would end up here one day. In all honesty, a few weeks ago she'd fully expected to adopt a legally adult child with Jack. Even ten years ago she wouldn't have believed they'd find themselves in divorce court. Thirty years ago she'd truly believed that love conquers all. Somehow, giving up the last remaining remnants of that shredded belief was the hardest part of divorcing Jack.
Though, slowing coming to understand just how much she'd enabled Jack over the years wasn't an easy realization either. It was easy to see it when it was happening to someone else. She could recognize the warning signs easily in others. Yet, somehow, she'd failed to see those signs in her own life. Or, more likely, she'd chosen not to see them. How many conversations had she had with her children about not falling into the very patterns she'd ended up in herself? Yet it wasn't until her voluntary evaluation- that her lawyer suggested she undergo- that she'd realized the full extent of her choices over the years. At least the choices involving Jack.
She hadn't cried in the psychologist's office when the realization finally came to her. She'd left the office feeling small and ashamed. As though, now that she saw things more clearly, the world must see them, too. But she'd left the psychologist's office that day with determined steps. Every facial muscle carefully controlled. In her car she called her lawyer to let him know he could expect the results of the evaluation soon. Her voice didn't falter. She drove home, systematically pushing one memory of Jack after another aside. She'd stopped herself on numerous occasion from running through one "what-if" scenario after another. Eventually, she'd made it home. Rusty had been there. Doing school work in the living room. They'd talked about his day. What to have for dinner. Plans for the holidays. She'd pushed her other thoughts aside.
Until that night. In bed and empowered by darkness, the thoughts returned. With silent tears that she made no effort to stop, she grieved and mourned over the rose-tinted glass that had shattered around her.
"...Captain Raydor has worked very hard to earn her position with the LAPD while raising Mr. Raydor's children. To claim that he has a right to anything she has earned in his absence is nothing short of ridiculous. If anything, he owes her for nearly eighteen years of back child support. Captain Raydor, however, isn't asking the court to order her husband to pay. She's merely asking for a clean break."
"Thank you, Mr. Caine. Mrs. Clarkson?"
Clarkson approached the podium. "Your Honor, Mr. Raydor makes no argument that he was a less than ideal husband and father during the times he struggled with addiction. However, Captain Raydor's constant threats to take his children from him contributed to his struggle as well as to keeping him away from his children. He has only recently been able to reconnect with his adult children in an attempt to mend the relationship that his addiction destroyed. A relationship that Captain Raydor has actively sought to prevent. In fact, this sudden and unexpected divorce filing is nothing more than another attempt to keep Mr. Raydor away from a child he's come to care for that will soon be made part of his family through adoption."
Judge Drew waited for Clarkson to be seated before turning her attention to Caine. "I'm assuming you wish to question your client?"
"Yes, Your Honor." Caine stood and placed a hand on his client's arm in silent support as she stood as well.
"It's all right, Captain," Judge Drew's voice brought the Captain to a halt. "You can be questioned from where you are."
"Thank you, Your Honor." Her voice was gentle but unwavering as she sat down once more.
"Captain Raydor," Caine turned just slightly in his chair to face his client, "you filed for a Legal Separation in February of 1993, correct?"
"Yes."
"When did the separation become final?"
"September of 1993."
"When you filed for the separation, how long had it been since you'd seen your husband?"
"About a week." The Captain's voice wavered just slightly, but she cleared her throat to cover it.
"That doesn't seem like a long time to wait before filing. Why the rush?"
Sharon shook her head slightly, clearly disagreeing. "There wasn't a rush."
Caine paused in his line of questioning and glanced at the judge briefly before looking back at his client. "Can you please tell the court the events that led you to file for a separation?"
"The first time Jack left was when my son was six months old…"
Why put them through this?
Jack half-listened to the attorney questioning his soon-to-be ex-wife. Ex-wife . . . How had it come to this after all these years? It seemed like just yesterday that they had married. Sure, he'd messed up from time to time, but whatever happened to 'Til death do us part'? He thought that still meant something to her. That she'd taken those vows as seriously as he had. He had tried. He had. But, of course, it wasn't good enough for Miss Perfect.
This was all Rusty's fault. Ever since that kid had entered Sharon's life, things had changed. Sharon had changed. If there was one thing that Jack hated more than anything, it was that. Everything had been going just fine until that boy came into her life. Emily and Ricky never had any problems with Jack's coming-and-going. Why was it suddenly an issue, now?
Sharon had even turned Ricky against him. He wasn't sure how, but she had. Ever since his son's visit to L.A. a few weeks ago, things had been different. His own son liked Sharon's latest project more than he liked his own father. Ricky never would have thought like that if Sharon hadn't said something to him. It was really a shame. She'd done such a great job at turning his son against him that he couldn't even get Ricky to be a witness for him.
He just couldn't understand why Sharon was doing all of this. Jack always came back. Didn't that make a difference? He came back! He could've left her high and dry long ago, but he hadn't. He came back when he was better. When things seemed good again. When he felt in control of himself again.
Didn't she know how hard this was for him? Didn't she care? No. Of course she didn't. One little mistake always ended up being a huge deal for Sharon that was blown out of proportion. In fact, that was what had happened and caused him to (as Sharon so kindly pointed out to the court) leave when Ricky was six-months-old. He had lost some money on a game, and to Sharon that was the end of the world, clearly. Anyone would leave when faced with that.
"…and after 90 days of the court being unable to locate your husband, the separation went through without contest?"
"Yes."
Caine smiled kindly. "After the separation was finalized, how long before you saw your husband again?"
"About six months."
"So, from the time you filed for Separation until you saw your husband again, it was about a year?"
"Yes."
"How did your husband react when you told him?"
The Captain hesitated before answering, "he was upset."
"And despite the separation, you allowed Mr. Raydor to move in with you when he returned?"
"Your Honor," Clarkson interrupted, "I don't see how this line of questioning is relevant. We're not here to decide if they should get a divorce, merely how to divide assets."
Caine's reply was smooth. "There's a pattern of behavior on the part of both clients that I'm attempting to demonstrate, Your Honor, which leads directly to the division of assets. Specifically, the commonly used rule that the longer two people have been married, the more alimony should be paid out."
"Proceed, Mr. Caine, but please make it brief," Judge Drew replied with a hint of impatience.
Caine turned his attention back to his client. "You allowed your husband to move back in?"
The Captain nodded before remembering that her answers needed to be vocal. "Yes, for about a year."
"Why ask him to leave after a year?" Caine was practiced enough in his profession that his voice, if he weren't in a courtroom, could be mistaken for him having a simple conversation.
"I didn't. He left again." The Captain turned her head towards the judge. "That was what he always did. He would come back when he needed something. Then once he'd gotten exactly what he came for, he would leave."
"During the times he lived with you, did he ever provide financial support for you or your children?"
"Most of the time when he came back, it was because he needed money."
"And he'd leave once you gave it to him?"
The Captain, despite her valiant efforts, was having difficulties concealing her discomfort. She shifted in her seat slightly while she unclasped and clasped her hands. "Yes, usually. Sometimes he'd stay for a little while afterwards, and work."
"Why, after all these years, would you file for divorce now?"
She sat up a bit taller in her seat then. "I've been the foster mother of a child for a little over two years, and I want to adopt him. I brought the topic up to Jack, and he…" She paused for the briefest of moments, "he said he'd sign if I compensated him."
"Did you ask him for financial support for this child?"
"No. All I wanted was his signature. I gave him the option of a simple divorce or to adopt a child on paper only. I fully expected him to agree to the adoption. Instead, he asked Rusty down to his office and interrogated my son—"
"Your Honor," Clarkson held up her pencil but didn't stand, "hearsay. The child in question is eighteen, and Captain Raydor was not present for the discussion she's referring to."
"Captain," the Judge replied, "please only reference conversations and events you were present for."
"Your Honor," Mr. Caine spoke up before the Captain could reply, "what my client heard from her son played a significant role in her decision to go through with the divorce and demonstrates an important pattern of behavior on the part of Mr. Raydor."
The judge turned back to Clarkson. "Is you client denying that there was a conversation between himself and…" the judge glanced back at her computer screen, "what's this child's name again?"
"Russell Beck," Caine supplied.
The judge's eyes left her monitor. "Is your client denying that this conversation between himself and Russell took place?"
Clarkson consulted with her client for a moment before replying, "my client agrees that on the day Captain Raydor presented him with the option of divorce or adoption, he did have a conversation in his office with Russell."
Judge Drew thought for a moment before addressing the petitioner, "Captain, you may reference the conversation happened, but do not reference anything Russell told you about what was said during the conversation."
"Yes, Your Honor," Captain Raydor turned back to her attorney, "after Rust…Russell told me he'd spoken to Jack, he..." she paused to consider the right words, "…brought up the topic of adoption, which is something I hadn't discussed with him yet. Or with my older children. I trusted Jack, and he used that trust in a way that I found unforgivable."
Caine smiled warmly at her. "Thank you." He turned to the judge. "That's all for now, Your Honor."
Judge Drew turned to the respondent, "Mrs. Clarkson…"
Clarkson stood up and walked a few steps to stand between the podium and petitioner table. "Captain Raydor…"
Being on the opposite end of an interrogation was not an ordeal Sharon had ever wished to experience, and it was certainly one she never intended to repeat. Personal details of her marriage and finances that she hadn't revealed to anyone were being made a part of court record. Every decision she'd ever made was being questioned. As much as she'd tried to prepare for this, there were questions asked that she could only respond to with "I don't know" or "I don't recall." She couldn't remember every excuse Jack had ever given her or every argument they'd ever had. She couldn't remember which birthdays he'd remembered to send the kids presents on, how many times he called them, or how much he'd spent buying them things for school.
Never had she felt so out of control or embarrassed.
Her attorney had warned her that every aspect of her relationship with Jack would be brought into question. Every time she let him move back in with her. Every penny she loaned him. Every gift he'd bought her or her children. And the court would want to know why.
It was a question she'd asked herself many times. In retrospect, none of the answers she'd given herself at the time made sense. How could the court understand if she didn't?
Her lawyer had also lamented about the presiding judge. Judge Carolyn Drew was known for her strict adherence to the laws. Which, Sharon realized, meant there was a good chance she was going to end up paying Jack alimony at least, and at worst half of her pension. If that happened, well…she'd simply make sure her desk was next to Provenza's when she became too old for anything besides the worst desk job the LAPD had to offer. Arguing with Provenza until the day she died would be a happier alternative to giving Jack a single dime.
"…and during the times you allowed your husband to move back in, you were intimate with him?"
"Your Honor!" Caine didn't lose his relaxed posture, though for the first time since he'd entered the courtroom, his voice took on a harder edge.
Clarkson turned to face the judge fully. "Your Honor, Mr. Caine presented a pattern in which my client walked in and out of Captain Raydor's life as though he were a close friend who slept on the couch when in fact both parties eagerly returned to living together as a married couple."
"Rephrase your question, Mrs. Clarkson," Judge Drew ruled.
Mrs. Clarkson nodded. She turned back to the petitioner, but paused for a moment to look at her legal pad. "Captain Raydor, during the times in which you allowed your husband to move back in, did the two of you live as husband and wife? In every aspect of the marital relationship?"
"Yes," the police captain adopted a look that was almost a glare as she answered the question, but her voice remained controlled.
"And you supported one another financially during these times?"
"No." The Captain's declaration was adamant but not uncontrolled, "mostly, I supported him. Occasionally, he'd buy our children toys or maybe clothes."
Mrs. Clarkson maintained a neutral face, but her voice sounded slightly more jubilant. "You and Mr. Raydor purchased a house together not long after you were married?"
"Yes."
"Both your names were on the mortgage?"
"Yes."
"Your Honor," Mrs. Clarkson walked back to her table to pull a few pieces of paper from a folder, "I'd like to draw your attention to the previously submitted evidence: a copy of the mortgage and the bill of sale pertaining to the residence on 779 Mulholland Court. The mortgage is signed by both parties, yet only Captain Raydor sold it."
The judge pulled the documents up on her on her computer and verified the information.
"Your Honor," Mr. Caine stood, seemingly bored, "the uncontested Legal Separation stipulated that the house belonged to Captain Raydor. She had no legal obligation to give Mr. Raydor any profits procured by its sale."
Clarkson replied immediately, "my client wasn't given the opportunity to contest the Legal Separation. By Captain Raydor's own admission, they were unable to find him after she filed."
"I'm not going to deem the sale of this house illegal after all these years, Mrs. Clarkson. Legally, Captain Raydor was only obligated to wait 90 days after the legal separation before selling the house. She didn't sell it until just a few years ago. If Mr. Raydor had a problem with the sale of the house, he should have spoken up long ago and gone through the appropriate channels." The judge leaned back in her chair.
"My client isn't asking for the house back, Your Honor," Clarkson replied. "He merely seeks his share of the profits."
"I'll take notice of it. Please continue, Mrs. Clarkson."
Clarkson turned back to the Captain. "There was no child support stipulation for the Separation. Can you explain that, Captain?"
"I wanted a separation so I could untangle myself financially from Jack. Had I asked for child support and he didn't have the money to pay, it wouldn't help either of us. Also, there was no way of contacting him. It was easier to obtain the separation in his absence without a child support order that would require him to be present or at least supply as list of assets. That the house be given to me was my lawyer's idea to help me keep a roof over my children's heads."
"Speaking of your children, did you ever tell your husband that you wouldn't let him see his children?"
The Captain looked away towards the rows of empty court seats for a moment before turning back to face the court. Her face was neutral, but her voice was slightly softer. "I told him that if he didn't stay sober, he would never see his children again."
"So, instead of helping your husband, you threatened to keep his children from him."
"Your Honor…" Caine didn't need to finish the sentence.
"Mrs. Clarkson," Judge Drew's voice held a warning note.
"Of course, Your Honor, I apologize. Just one last question, Captain, for now. Why threaten your husband with divorce if he wouldn't adopt a child? Why not just ask him to adopt with you? And if your divorce isn't about the adoption, as you claimed earlier, then why deliver that ultimatum?"
A fist came up to cover the Captain's mouth as she leaned her elbow on the table. She was clearly fighting for control, and after a moment, she lowered her fist to reply. "It wasn't an ultimatum. I gave him two options…"
Not an ultimatum!
Jack almost scoffed out loud, but caught himself in time. He kept his eyes trained on the window. Not an ultimatum. Did she really believe that? How could she believe that? How could she even pretend that saying "adopt this adult into our family or divorce me" wasn't an ultimatum? Sharon had been sniffing too much gunshot residue if she actually believed…if he didn't know her better, he'd swear she was lying. But Sharon would never lie in court. She took her oaths seriously.
Except her marriage vows, obviously.
He looked down at the legal pad in front of him where he was making his own notes. Not an ultimatum.
Giving someone two options the way Sharon had was clearly an ultimatum. There was no other explanation for it. Then she'd taken one of the options away from him before giving him time to fully consider either of them. She wanted a divorce. He'd taken too long to think about it, and even though he was willing to adopt the boy, she'd told him they were divorcing.
Not an ultimatum . . . all she'd ever given him were ultimatums. Throughout their entire marriage, things had to be done her way. She'd say she was giving him "choices." Pick one or the other. But she was delusional if she didn't call those "choices" for what they really were. "Stop drinking or I'll take your kids from you." Or "adopt Rusty or divorce me." She was the one who used the kids against him.
She would call them "deals" or "options" or "choices," but she was only kidding herself.
Sharon had most certainly given him an ultimatum.
"Any follow up, Mr. Caine?" Judge Drew asked while jotting down notes.
"Not at this time, Your Honor," Caine replied. "I'd like to call Jack Raydor as the next witness."
Judge Drew nodded, turning back to her computer screen. "Go ahead."
Caine stood and moved, with a casual ease that could only come from excessive practice in a courtroom, to stand in front of the respondent's table just to the side of Mr. Raydor so as not to block the judge's view. "Mr. Raydor, you lived in Las Vegas for nearly twenty years. How did you earn a living?"
"As an attorney."
"What sort of attorney?"
"Criminal Law."
Caine gave a friendly smile. "I'm sure there was hardly a shortage of work for you in Vegas. How much did you gross annually between 2000 and 2005? A rough estimate is fine."
Jack opened a folder he had in front of him, and leisurely looked through the documents until he found what he needed. "Between 2000 and 2005, I grossed an average of about $150,000 a year."
"That's rather impressive. The average Criminal Law attorney in Vegas makes an average of less than $80,000 a year. You made almost double that. Between 2000 and 2005, how much did your wife make annually?"
"She stated earlier that she grossed about $160,000."
"It was a little less between 2000 and 2005. Closer to $140,000," Cain supplied. "During those five years when your wife was making $10,000 less a year than you – and acting as sole provider to both your children – did you borrow money from her?"
Mr. Raydor hesitated slightly. "Yes."
"How much?"
"I don't recall."
"You didn't keep record of how much money your wife lent you?" Caine managed to sound genuinely surprised.
"No."
Caine turned walked back to his table and retrieved a neatly stapled stack of papers that he handed to Mrs. Clarkson, "Your Honor, I'd like to submit copies of checks written out to Jack Raydor from my client's personal savings account between 2000 and 2005 totaling $15,000."
"Objections, Mrs. Clarkson?"
Clarkson carefully skimmed each page of copied checks, and made notes on her own legal pad. Eventually, she handed the papers back to Caine. "No objections."
Caine handed the papers to the judge, who looked at them carefully as well before handing them to her clerk to be catalogued.
Caine moved back to the respondent's table. "You were making more money than your wife, yet you still needed to borrow money from her. Money that she could have used to benefit your children. Why is that, Mr. Raydor?"
"I…had a gambling problem."
"Did you seek help for your problem?"
"I went to AA."
"For your drinking, not for your gambling, correct?"
"They tend to go hand in hand," Mr. Raydor replied immediately, as though he'd practiced this answer.
"So, you never gamble unless you drink?"
Jack Raydor hesitated for a long moment before answering. "I make better decisions when sober."
"But you still gamble?"
"Your Honor," Mrs. Clarkson interrupted, "asked and answered."
Caine maintained eye contact with Mr. Raydor while awaiting the judge's ruling.
"I'd like to hear Mr. Raydor clear up this bit of confusion as well, Mrs. Clarkson," the judge decided. "Overruled."
"Technically," Jack responded, "I would still gamble."
"What were you doing between February 1993 and September 1993 that no one could find you?"
"I'm not sure what you mean, counselor." Jack Raydor flashed a charming smile. "I'm sure I was doing a lot of things. But why no one could find me…I couldn't tell you."
"So, you weren't intentionally avoiding anyone?"
"No. I had no reason to."
"Then why not give your wife your new phone number or address in case she needed to communicate with you in regards to your children?"
Mr. Raydor looked at his lawyer who intentionally kept her head down while making notes. "I didn't…I wanted to wait until I was settled."
"And how long did it take for you to get settled, Mr. Raydor?"
"Relevance?" Clarkson spoke up, directing her attention to the judge.
"I'll withdraw the question, Your Honor," Caine conceded before the judge could reply. He looked down at the legal pad in his hand and shook his head slightly. Casually, he walked back to his table and set the legal pad down before returning to stand just off to the side of Mr. Raydor ensuring that the judge still had a clear view. "Mr. Raydor, why don't you just tell the court why you abandoned your children?"
Sharon didn't want to hear Jack's answer. What difference did it make at this point anyway? He had abandoned their children. Not just once either. He did it multiple times with no caring for anyone but himself. Nothing justified his leaving them.
Deep down in her heart, she knew that. However, a tiny part of her had always wanted to hear what the real reason was. What had been so damn important for him to leave that first time, and every time after that? For decades, she had wondered if it had been because she had been too hard on him, wanting to make everything perfect and put too much pressure on him. But eventually she realized that wasn't it. She realized that she'd always known the answer.
Her husband was an addict. And addiction doesn't hold a lot of answers.
She closed her eyes briefly while he avoided answering, but kept her body still and her face otherwise neutral. Excuses were flying from his lips again as they always did. She wondered which excuse he'd finally give the court. How many various reasons had she heard over the years? She had lost count. What would it be this time? What would he tell the court?
Did it really matter?
He'd abandoned his children. His very young children. And had no proof that he'd ever so much as bought them a pair of shoes for school.
But… he did care about them. Sharon knew that. Some part of him loved his children. He just didn't know how to be a father. But he was trying, now. Emily told her that he called regularly. He probably called Ricky, too, but Ricky mostly avoided discussing Jack with her. Jack wanted to be involved in his children's lives, and Sharon didn't want it to be too late for that. She wanted him to hold their grandchildren one day.
She wanted Jack to stay sober. She wanted him to be a good father. She wanted him to have a good rest of his life.
She just didn't want to share that life with him anymore.
"Between your marriage and your separation, Mr. Raydor," Caine continued with his questioning. "how much debt did you accrue?"
"Our house, a car, and a few credit cards…" Jack Raydor begin flipping through his file again, "that's about it. Around $150,000, I believe."
"How much of that debt did you assume after the separation?"
Mr. Raydor looked down and silently closed his file. "None."
"Let me make sure I understand you correctly, Mr. Raydor. Your wife paid for you to go to law school, she assumed full financial responsibility for your children, your house, your car- the car you took with you to Vegas,- all your other debts, and she paid you on multiple occasions over the last twenty years. And now you're asking this court to order her to give you half her pension as well as spousal support?"
"You're taking it out of context—"
"That was a "yes" or "no" question, sir."
"It's not a simple—"
"Your Honor," Mr. Caine turned to face the judge fully.
"Mr. Raydor," Judge Drew responded, "please give a "yes" or "no" answer."
Silence stretched on until the Judge opened her mouth to compel him to answer.
Finally, a gruffly quiet voice spoke. "Yes."
Mr. Caine didn't smile as he spoke. "I have no further questions, Your Honor. Thank you."
"Mrs. Clarkson?" Judge Drew spoke as Caine returned to his seat.
Clarkson stood, a piece of paper in hand. "I have no questions for Mr. Raydor at this time, Your Honor, however, I am ready to call our first witness."
"Would this be the witness you requested be contacted via phone conference?"
"Yes, Your Honor."
"And this witness is currently waiting at a police station where her identity can be verified?"
"Yes, Your Honor."
"I will only call once, Mrs. Clarkson. If the New York City Police Department doesn't know what I'm talking about, then you're out a witness." From the corner of her eye, the judge saw Captain Raydor become increasingly animated as she spoke furiously to her lawyer in whispers.
"I understand, Your Honor. If I could confirm the number the court has?"
"Go ahead."
Clarkson called out a phone number with an extension. "Officer Cruz should pick up."
"The number's match." The clerk answered.
"Your Honor," Mr. Caine slowly stood, as a hand came to rest on Captain Raydor's shoulder. The seasoned police officer was looking at the judge with wide panicked eyes, as she held a clenched fist to her mouth. "Before you call the witness, could we request the witness's name?"
"Emily Raydor."
Author's Note: I'm taking some liberties with the legal aspects of this divorce, clearly. This was only supposed to be a oneshot, but it kept getting longer so I decided this was a good place to break it off. :D
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SCHIMES!
Someone is preparing a birthday cake for you for tomorrow. I'm bringing the ice cream. :P