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Martha bends over the woman and places one gentle hand on her shoulder and murmurs something about her needing to leave.
The woman stands up and shouts at her. “This is an abomination!”
“Let’s go talk about this outside so the kids can finish the play. They’ve worked so hard. Let’s be reasonable.”
The woman brushes off Martha’s arm and refuses to go with her. Martha turns to the students. She’s been joined by the director, Ms. Fairhope. Martha says something to Ms. Fairhope, and the younger woman sprints to the back of the auditorium and enters the light booth.
Martha instructs the actors to move about ten feet closer to the other side of the stage and carry on.
As soon as she does this, the lighting changes so that the woman at the foot of the stage is plunged into darkness and all of the lighting shifts to the action. Nobody can see this woman causing a scene anymore, and because the actors are amplified and she is not, nobody can hear her either.
Everyone in the audience claps as the action continues.
I don’t stay to see what happens next; now that the whole audience has been distracted, I decide it’s best for me to leave.
That was too close for comfort, and a sign that I may have to wait just a bit longer to have all of my Martha.
15
Miles
The Chamberlains meet with me early the next day to talk about the deposition that will take place tomorrow, and I can hardly believe what I’m hearing.
“My wife wants to add assault charges after what happened at the play last night.”
Giving my best poker face, I ask him to clue me in.
While he rambles on, I think about what I did—or almost did—right there in the auditorium last night. I can’t help but allow a smile to creep over my face. It was so totally inappropriate but so fucking hot the way that Martha reacted to me.
Someday, after we’re married, we might have to try that in a movie theater.
“So she didn’t hit your wife,” I say.
“She touched her without consent.”
I roll my eyes. He does not like this.
“Do I need to hire a new lawyer?”
I shrug. “Maybe? If you want to file criminal charges, you can take that up with the DA. This is civil court.”
Chamberlain taps an index finger on my desk. I’ll have to clean that later. “Okay, then we want to add pain and suffering to the lawsuit.”
For the tenth time since I’ve made his acquaintance, I rub my temples and find any excuse to get him to leave my office. “All right, listen. Go ahead and get your wife a neck brace and we’ll see how that plays with the judge.”
For some reason, he doesn’t even realize this is sarcasm. He draws himself up, looks proud of me for thinking of this idea, and marches out of my office with a spring in his step.
* * *
The conference room is stuffy and it’s making me sleepy after about an hour into the deposition.
The only thing keeping me awake is knowing that Martha sits right across the table from me, and she’s looking me up and down like I’m a piece of meat.
She’s not even trying to hide it. Has she lost her mind?
I go to stretch my leg, and my shoe accidentally bumps into something under the conference table.
About to apologize to someone, I make a move to pull my leg back, but suddenly two small feet are clamping down on either side of my calf. I look up, startled, and Martha is looking at me.
