Page 122 of A Dead End Wedding

"Your Honor?" My opponent had finally found his voice, and either he'd suddenly developed a massive summer cold, or he was trying not to laugh, because he started coughing so hard he nearly choked.

"Yes, Mr. Allen? Do you have something to add that might illuminate me on the role of the Founding Fathers?" The judge smiled, but he narrowed his eyes, and I had the feeling I was in trouble.

Mr. Allen started choking again. "No, Your Honor. No illumination. Just a quick interjection to inform the Court that the state is dismissing the charges against Mr. Anderson. The complaining witness had—" he shuffled through some papers, then selected one and read from it. "An emergency nose-piercing infection emergency, and she thus cannot cooperate. Since it's a first offense, —"

"First offense!" I added, helpfully.

The judge's attention swung back to me, but he wasn't smiling anymore. "Ms. Vaughn, I'd suggest that you brush up on your criminal procedure before I see you in my court again. Mr. Anderson, despite your attorney, you are free to go. I would advise you to amend your behavior, as the luck of witnesses with infected piercings isn't likely to happen again."

Bear jumped up out of his chair to stand up. "Yes, sir, Your Highness."

"Honor," I whispered.

"Your Honorableness," Bear corrected himself. "I won't ever, ever take something and pay for it later, even if the clerk is very rude and calls me a bad word. I promise, cross my heart, but don't hope to die, because Grandma says that's wrong and an offense against God, just like Republicans."

The judge stared at Bear for a moment, then brought his gavel down. "I see that you two deserve each other. Case dismissed."

Bear looked at me. "Am I free? I don't have to go to jail?"

I could hardly bear to meet his eyes, as I grabbed up my files and hurried down the aisle toward the door, desperate to escape the laughter I heard behind me. "Yes, you're free. Please don't take anything else without paying for it, Bear. And if you get in trouble again, find a criminal attorney. I have a great one for you, even. His name is Jim, and you'll really like him."

Bear followed me out the door, but stopped me in the hallway with a hand on my arm. "But I don't want anybody else! You're the best lawyer in the world! You said I was unique, and you freed me from repression!"

26

As I drove away from the courthouse, wondering if I could move to Siberia and start all over, my cell phone rang. I flipped it open. "Hold on."

Then I pulled into a parking space on the side of the road. Emotional devastation plus supreme humiliation plus cell phone equals December smashing into the back of a truck, I always say.

I put the convertible in park, realizing I hadn't even put the top down once yet. "Okay, I'm here."

"December, it's Max. I was calling to find out if the hearing was over and give you directions to MOSH. How did it go?"

"Don't ask," I muttered.

"What? What's wrong? Did poor Bear get sent to the concrete and bars jungle? Did they throw away the key?"

Max gets her knowledge of criminal law from TV, too.

"No, he's free. I'm the one who went down to the concrete jungle. Or at least the humiliation jungle. I'm such an idiot. I knew better, and Jim even helped me, but I made a fool out of myself in a SPECTACULAR fashion."

I moaned and dropped my head on the steering wheel. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid."

"What happened?"

I closed my eyes. "Nothing. Except for the part where I starting orating about the Founding Fathers and freedom from repression."

"What? And don't you mean oppression?"

"No. No. Nooooooo. Don't you think we need more freedom from repression? And witnesses with piercing infections? Or maybe a few more experiences that make judges rethink their conclusions that I'm not a whacked-out junkie Yankee?" I moaned again.

"What the H. E. double toothpicks are you talking about?" she yelled.

I moaned again, but held the cell phone further away from my poor eardrum. "Forget it. I'll tell you later if it's not on the front page of the paper. Give me the directions, please."

As I reached down in my briefcase for paper and pencil, a knock on my window scared me half to death. After I untangled my tongue, I realized I was looking through the glass at Jim Thies.

I found the car window button on the Beemer and pushed it. "Hey, Jim. Believe nothing you hear today, okay?"

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