Page 162 of Overdue I Love You's
Nadine told me to let him go if I wasn’t sure about how I felt. How can I be sure about love or relationships? They’re coming and going like seasons. One year, it’ll feel like forever, and the next it’ll feel like an endless winter storm. Dean feels constant. A windmill in the middle of nowhere. After the trial, no matter the result, we would’ve talked. In this scenario, I imagine us going outside. The sun is bright, the ocean waves are perfect, and there’s the ice cream shop selling for a dollar across. We wait for the courtroom to empty out, sitting on the stairs leading into it. We listen to the sound of people, cars,animals. I turn to him, my hair blowing in the wind. He looks at me like he always looks at me, black swallowing his greens, a freeing glance over my hair, and he tucks a crazy strand behind an ear. We’ll talk about our shoes, maybe. Or how pretty the sky looks. I tell him how I feel after and he listens, forgives me for making him wait, then swoops me off my feet with an Oscar-worthy kiss.
I never imagined this.
“Have a safe flight home,” my voice breaks. I turn to look out, no longer enjoying the sunrise.
Feet shuffle against the hardwood floors. He stands right behind me, keeping his eyes on me through the mirror. Dean leans down, his eyes shut as he presses a kiss on my crown.
I’m too scared to look back, that when I do, he’ll be gone for good.
It takes the sound of locks clicking in place for me to say, “Don’t go.”
“You didn’t put makeup on?” Rosa eyes me over the waist-height wall dividing me from my family. Nadine’s in lawyer mode.
Hands go to my face, “I did.”
Makeup couldn’t have concealed the tears I’ve cried since Dean left.
Local townspeople start filing in. Everyone I know piles in. Tom, the ice cream shop owner. Lyla, the woman who piqued my interest in plants. It’s different from Toronto, where I knew no one. Everyone I love sits on my side, supporting me.
Everyone but Dean.
“Order in court. All rise for honourable Justice McCartney.”
We all stand as the judge walks out. She’s an old woman. I’m pretty sure she’s been in the Supreme Court of Charlottetown since it was made.
As she sits, the clerk says, “Please be seated.”
Nadine rests a hand on my thigh, “Trust me?”
“Always,” I mouth back.
“We are here today to proceed with the second trial of Rivera versus Cartwright. Counsel,” she may be old, but her eyes are sharp. “Please state your appearances for the record.”
“May it please the court, my name is Bob Dune, and I appear on behalf of the plaintiff, Martha Cartwright.”
Nadine clicks the mic button. “May it please the court, my name is Nadine Rivera, and I appear on behalf of the Defendant, Nova Rivera.”
My lips are dry when McCartney catches my stare. Her expression doesn’t give her thoughts away.
“Counsel, you may proceed with your opening statements. Mr. Dune, please start us off.”
Bob Dune is a sad, old man. Reasonably so. Bald head, big beer belly, and an oddly tight-fitted coat. “My client has brought this action upon the defendant to recover several years of debt owed to Cornwall Public Library. Miss Rivera failed to return library-owned property. Books are not simple items. They are resources used by all and are taken care of with dedication. I intend to show that the defendant was aware of these overdue books and failed to return them, which resulted in a depleted financial standing for the library. The first trial in Toronto offered Miss Rivera leniency to pay $15,000 by December, but she has refused by bringing the matter back in court. We ask that the court hold the defendant accountable for her irreputable actions.”
“Defence, you may proceed with an opening statement.”
Nadine stands, not an inch of nerves visible. “Thank you, Your Honour. This lawsuit should never have reached the courtroom. The Statute of Limitations Act bars this claim after two years. The plaintiff waited twelve. Marking this as a calculated retaliation through a holographic will where the plaintiff’s father names my client as the sole owner of Cornwall Public Library. Today, we’ll prove that Ms. Rivera does not owe Ms. Cartwright any money as she is not the rightful owner of the library she pretends to own.”
Gasps echo across the room.
I look over and see Ms. Cartwright’s hair buzzing with electricity, ready to strike, and her face red. She used to be nice.
Bob Dune continues to state all the same points they made during the first trial. They pull me up for questioning, turn my words around, and end up proving absolutely nothing. Someoneboo’sthem in the back when I return to my seat.
When it’s Nadine’s turn, the judge asks her if she has evidence of the holographic will. Bob Dune stands, “Objection. Holographic wills need two witnesses in Prince Edward Island.”
Smartasses. They knew what they were doing when they booked a trial here. They’re attempting to downplay Mr. Cartwright’s will.
“Defence?” The judge looks at Nadine. She’s still not shaken by this.
