AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Ivy was brilliant. She was reading before she was four and knew her multiplication tables through twelve by the time she was six. She loved to read and learn and ask questions about anything and everything. We called her the sponge. She was always acquiring new knowledge. Hazel was our artist. She could draw or paint anything and was usually lost in her own world, creating her latest masterpiece. She had a beautiful singing voice and had been asked to sing in the choir at our church on Christmas Eve. She’d practiced ‘O Holy Night’ so many times that Nat and I were hearing it in our dreams, but her rendition was glorious. Both girls were exceptional dancers and had attracted attention from talent scouts. Who knows how far their many talents could’ve taken them?”
I’m gratified to realize the defendant is weeping. He ought to be.
“Natasha was a dedicated nurse, a loving wife, mother and daughter, her parents’ only child. She was a friend to more people than most of us meet in a lifetime. She regularly heard from patients she’d had years ago who wanted to check in with her and let her know they were doing well. I received two thousand cards after she died, many from people whose names I didn’t recognize, but they were all in the contacts on her phone with notes about her dealings with them. That was my Nat, the girl of my dreams who became the most incredible nurse and mother. Our girls adored her. She was the sun around which we all orbited as she took care of everyone in her life.
He looked directly at Previn. “These are the people you took from me, my family, Natasha’s family, their friends, coworkers and fellow dancers. The Christmas recital was canceled because the other girls were too heartbroken to go on without Hazel and Ivy. So many hearts were broken because of your actions, Mr. Previn.
“Natasha’s parents and I spent hours talking about what sort of punishment would be ‘enough’ for us. We talked about what charges would be enough, and for many months, we fought for vehicular homicide charges because we felt that most accurately reflected the crime. You got into that car knowing you had no business driving that night, and you did it anyway. You ended up driving the wrong way on the interstate, plowing into my wife’s car at full speed and instantly killing her and our girls. If that isn’t the very definition of vehicular homicide, I don’t know what is.
“We’ve accepted the deal in which you’ve pleaded guilty to the lesser charge of vehicular manslaughter, but please know, we did that only to avoid a trial, not because we don’t think you’re guilty of homicide. You killed my family, and I hope you think of them and what you took from them, from me, from everyone who loved them every second for the rest of your life.
“Thank you, Your Honor, for the opportunity to address the court.”
“Thank you, Mr. Collier, and please accept the court’s condolences for your tragic loss.”
I leave the podium and go to sit between Iris and Mimi, taking a hand from each of them and holding on as the judge announces the sentence and sends Previn off with the sheriff’s deputies.
“I thought I’d feel some closure after that,” I say after he’s been escorted from the room.
“Is there any such thing?” Mimi asks.
“Your words were powerful, Gage, and your girls would be proud of you,” Iris says.
“I suppose that’s what matters, right?”
“That’s all that matters,” Mimi says. “That we make them proud of us every day.”
“I have no doubt they are,” Iris says. “No doubt at all.”
IRIS
“Canyou believe where we’re going?” I ask Gage the Sunday after his victim impact statement. He’s been quiet and withdrawn since that day, and I’m hoping that today’s outing might help to give him something else to think about. I’m still trying to bounce back from radiation-induced exhaustion, which has been kicking my ass, but I wouldn’t have missed today’s outing.
“It’s surreal that we have friends who work at the White House,” he says, “and that their friend the first lady invited us over for tea.”
“I’m so excited to tour the White House and meet her. I think she’s the coolest person ever. That she chases murderers, too, is amazing.”
“She does seem pretty cool.”
My parents took the kids to the movies and dinner, so they’re having a fun outing while we hobnob with the first lady. “I wonder if the president will be there, too.”
“Roni only promised her, so don’t get your hopes up.”
“I’ll try not to.”
“And don’t embarrass me by drooling on him or something if you do meet him.”
As I laugh, I’m relieved to hear him crack a joke. I’ve been so worried about him the last few days. “I’ll try to maintain some decorum, but that may be difficult. Our president looks like a movie star.”
“Whatever,” he says, rolling his eyes as he and the other guys have done every time the Wild Widows have discussed this day and how we hope we might get to meet the “ridiculously hot” president.
“When was the last time we had a guy roughly our age in the White House?” I ask him.
“Like, the sixties?”
“Exactly. So let us have our fun.”
“Just remember that his wife carries a gun, and she’s probably not afraid to use it when a band of wild widows is ogling her husband.”
