593 Riverside Drive - 18. Chapter 18

“What an afternoon,” Essie offered, as we started to eat our desserts.

“And it wasn’t over,” my mother reminded Herbert’s wife.

“No,” Ella added. “I wish it had been.”

“Benno Lewinson certainly wasn’t as precise as Max Steuer,” I pointed out.

“If he played baseball,” my father commented, “he’d be accused of ‘hitting all over the field.’”

Ella smiled. “Still, the first hour-or-so was the easiest part of his questioning – because his thoughts seemed so disorganized and repetitive that they weren’t hard to follow. And when they got more specific, I had my appointment books to help.”

“When did he tell you to bring those?” Essie asked.

“Actually, Max suggested it. He knew he’d have to ask how many times Joe had attempted intercourse, and I certainly didn’t write them down. But I knew if I saw the names of the places where we stayed, it would be easier.”

“But Steuer hasn’t mentioned them yet,” Herbert objected.

“He hasn’t gone into those specifics.”

“No, and he’s not sure he’ll need to,” Ella replied. “He told me that much. But he also wanted to be ready if Benno asked first, and he had to cross-examine.”

“Did you go over them with Steuer?” my father asked.

“In his office, yes. It was a little embarrassing at first, but he said I needed to get used to it. Like the trial, it’s something that needs to be done.”

“That sounds like a Boy Scout,” Herbert joked. “‘Be prepared.’ Though a little more lusty.”

“Herbert,” my father lightly reprimanded. But I laughed.

“And as I went over the dates with Max,” Ella went on, “I noted the important ones in my books. The early ones were easy since it was only three weeks – and they were nights I was looking forward to.”

My father couldn’t very well groan “Herbert,” to that, so he simply nodded.

“Once Joe and I were home – especially once we came back to the city – the dates were harder to recall – except when we were again away on trips.”

“Are the days really going to be important?” my mother asked.

“Max said the dates weren’t as important as their frequency. And one proves the other.”

“Can you really remember them?” Essie asked. “I couldn’t.”

“That’s because there are so many, my love, all happily blended together.” And Herbert kissed his wife. There was a kind of silence until they parted.

“What?” Herbert asked, when he found everyone looking at them. “Do we now have to ask permission?”

“You might at least have waited till we were out of the dining room,” my father jibed. “Unless just seeing the sofa would be too provoking.”

Sometimes my father could embarrass Herbert as well. After all, they were brothers.

“I hope tomorrow will be easier than the rest of this afternoon was,” my mother went on. “Especially with Benno still cross-examining.”

“I asked Max what he thought might be asked,” Ella continued. “But he had no idea.”

“It’s that hit-or-miss approach,” my father repeated. “Though he must be heading somewhere.”

“Do you think so?” Ella asked. “That his randomness is part of a plan?”

“Actually, I think he’s just inept with women,” Papa assured her.

“And children,” Essie added. “He keeps referring to Laurie as ‘the boy.’”

“And to ‘Mr. Spingarn’ or ‘Your husband’” Mama said. “Which he somehow makes sound possessive.”

“That's just the formality lawyers use in court,” I defended.

“True,” Herbert admitted. “Though some of the lawyers I've been with talk that way all the time. They’re as careless as doctors.”

“And I’ve been with too many of those lately,” Ella agreed. “More than I ever wanted to meet.”

“This will be over next week,” my mother reminded her. “Let’s hope tomorrow is easier.”

“As long as Lewinson doesn’t go back to the douche bag,” Herbert warned. “This afternoon, he turned that into a whole damned oratorio.”

“Herbert!” we all sang out.