Read Online Midnight Before Christmas by William Bernhardt - Free Book Online
Authors: William Bernhardt
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alone!”
“I want an apology.”
“If you don’t leave my son alone, I’ll call the police!”
“Call away. I may decide to file charges for battery!”
“All right, all right!” The boy squirmed around in his seat. “I’m sorry,” he said, under his breath. “I didn’t mean it. Exactly.”
“What, was it something I said? Something about my suit you didn’t like?”
The boy shrugged. “Nah, I was just bored.”
His mother patted the boy in a rough and rapid manner Megan suspected was not at all comforting. “We’ve been here since nine-thirty.”
“And you haven’t seen the judge yet?”
“Our lawyer hasn’t shown up. He keeps calling, making excuses. So we’re stuck waiting.”
Megan rubbed her hand against her brow. Been in this hellhole since nine-thirty? No wonder the kid was stir-crazy.
“Look.” Megan reached down to the bottom of her bag. “Ever seen one of these?” She pulled the ball-bearing contraption out and plopped it onto the kid’s lap.
“No.” He lifted one of the silver balls and let it crash down into the others, starting the chain reaction. “What does it do?”
“You’re doing it already.” Megan smiled at his mother. “Keep it. It may amuse him for a while.”
“Oh, we couldn’t possibly …”
“Please. I’ll be glad to get it off my hands.”
The mother reached for her own purse. “Then let me give you something.”
“That really isn’t necessary.”
The mother withdrew a large glass bottle filled with green liquid. “I got this last night at the office Christmas party. You know, one of those gag gift exchanges.”
Megan took the extra-large bottle of Listerine. “Boy, those gag gifts are some kind of funny, aren’t they?”
“I gave a giant-size roll-on Arrid Extra Dry.”
“That’s clever, too.” She dropped the mouthwash into her bag, which was now even heavier than before. “Well, thanks very much.”
The mother smiled and waved. “Merry Christmas.”
Megan waved back. “Ho, ho, ho.”
As it turned out, once they got in, the hearing took less than ten minutes. Judge Harris, a middle-aged career judge who knew her way around domestic law backwards and forwards, was particularly expeditious, in part no doubt due to the size of the horde outside. The judge would probably be on duty till midnight no matter what she did.
Megan put Bonnie on the stand to give a brief account of her nightmarish life since her breakup, of how Carl had stalked her and her son, threatened her, even tried to poison Tommy. Then, in a broken voice, barely able to speak, she told the horrific account of Carl’s visit to her home that morning, of punching her boyfriend and neighbor, of smashing his hand through the windowpane. Megan suspected Bonnie could’ve gotten her restraining order right then and there, but after Bonnie proceeded to recount Carl’s attempt to kidnap Tommy, there was no uncertainty about the outcome.
Just for good measure, Megan entered into evidence a copy of the police reports for each of the earlier incidents. And in return, she got an impressive-looking restraining order signed by the judge, prohibiting Carl Cantrell from coming near Bonnie, Tommy, or their home.
“I’ll schedule a formal hearing for three weeks from today,” Judge Harris said, marking the date on her calendar. “You’ll have to serve notice on her ex-husband before then.”
“I’ll take care of it, your honor,” Megan said, making notes.
“Do you have any idea where the man is?”
“No. But I’m hoping the police will find him. They do have his license-plate number.”
The judge nodded. “I hope so, too. For everybody’s sake.”
12
B Y THE THIRD ROUND , Carl was drinking Scotch and water, hold the water. But the medicine was doing its work; the liquid comfort coursed through his veins, numbed his body. After a while he was able to forget the pain—the physical pain, at any rate. The only reminder came every time he bent his elbow, as
“I want an apology.”
“If you don’t leave my son alone, I’ll call the police!”
“Call away. I may decide to file charges for battery!”
“All right, all right!” The boy squirmed around in his seat. “I’m sorry,” he said, under his breath. “I didn’t mean it. Exactly.”
“What, was it something I said? Something about my suit you didn’t like?”
The boy shrugged. “Nah, I was just bored.”
His mother patted the boy in a rough and rapid manner Megan suspected was not at all comforting. “We’ve been here since nine-thirty.”
“And you haven’t seen the judge yet?”
“Our lawyer hasn’t shown up. He keeps calling, making excuses. So we’re stuck waiting.”
Megan rubbed her hand against her brow. Been in this hellhole since nine-thirty? No wonder the kid was stir-crazy.
“Look.” Megan reached down to the bottom of her bag. “Ever seen one of these?” She pulled the ball-bearing contraption out and plopped it onto the kid’s lap.
“No.” He lifted one of the silver balls and let it crash down into the others, starting the chain reaction. “What does it do?”
“You’re doing it already.” Megan smiled at his mother. “Keep it. It may amuse him for a while.”
“Oh, we couldn’t possibly …”
“Please. I’ll be glad to get it off my hands.”
The mother reached for her own purse. “Then let me give you something.”
“That really isn’t necessary.”
The mother withdrew a large glass bottle filled with green liquid. “I got this last night at the office Christmas party. You know, one of those gag gift exchanges.”
Megan took the extra-large bottle of Listerine. “Boy, those gag gifts are some kind of funny, aren’t they?”
“I gave a giant-size roll-on Arrid Extra Dry.”
“That’s clever, too.” She dropped the mouthwash into her bag, which was now even heavier than before. “Well, thanks very much.”
The mother smiled and waved. “Merry Christmas.”
Megan waved back. “Ho, ho, ho.”
As it turned out, once they got in, the hearing took less than ten minutes. Judge Harris, a middle-aged career judge who knew her way around domestic law backwards and forwards, was particularly expeditious, in part no doubt due to the size of the horde outside. The judge would probably be on duty till midnight no matter what she did.
Megan put Bonnie on the stand to give a brief account of her nightmarish life since her breakup, of how Carl had stalked her and her son, threatened her, even tried to poison Tommy. Then, in a broken voice, barely able to speak, she told the horrific account of Carl’s visit to her home that morning, of punching her boyfriend and neighbor, of smashing his hand through the windowpane. Megan suspected Bonnie could’ve gotten her restraining order right then and there, but after Bonnie proceeded to recount Carl’s attempt to kidnap Tommy, there was no uncertainty about the outcome.
Just for good measure, Megan entered into evidence a copy of the police reports for each of the earlier incidents. And in return, she got an impressive-looking restraining order signed by the judge, prohibiting Carl Cantrell from coming near Bonnie, Tommy, or their home.
“I’ll schedule a formal hearing for three weeks from today,” Judge Harris said, marking the date on her calendar. “You’ll have to serve notice on her ex-husband before then.”
“I’ll take care of it, your honor,” Megan said, making notes.
“Do you have any idea where the man is?”
“No. But I’m hoping the police will find him. They do have his license-plate number.”
The judge nodded. “I hope so, too. For everybody’s sake.”
12
B Y THE THIRD ROUND , Carl was drinking Scotch and water, hold the water. But the medicine was doing its work; the liquid comfort coursed through his veins, numbed his body. After a while he was able to forget the pain—the physical pain, at any rate. The only reminder came every time he bent his elbow, as
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