Johnson nodded. 'All they had to do was grant the verdict for us. I'm afraid they've found some reason to grant you cus-tody.'
Valerie frowned. 'Can't I say no?'
'Sure,' Terry said. 'But I was trying for the legal precedent. Future courts won't care what you decided on your own.' He looked around at the others. 'We might as well go.' Karen patted his back. 'We're sorry,' she said.
'Thanks,' he replied, thinking, But sorry doesn't change the law books.
XXII
Valerie returned to an empty home. The lights on the Phone-Mate indicated thirty-four messages awaiting her attention. She ignored it. The only sound drifted in from outside, where TV vans camped and reporters hovered like gulls around a trawler.
She flopped down on the bed, which had not been made from the night before. A glowing red eye glared at her be-neath the TV. The VCR. Ron had set it to record the local news at five every day. Picking up the remote, she flicked on the TV, ran the tape back until she found a story about the case, and played it.
The male newscaster made a somber face. Superimposed behind him was the familiar scale with a baby in one pan, scalpel in the other. 'The saga of Baby Renata continues with a surprising turnabout.' The image cut to a shot of Valerie on the witness stand.
'The plaintiff in the landmark custody battle, Valerie Dalton, today dismissed her attorney and took the stand as a witness for the people she was suing. Her testimony took a dramatic turn when she discussed the bone marrow she'd donated to the infant.'
'This,' she watched herself say as the woman on the screen opened her blouse, 'this is how much I love her.' There was a distinct break in the image to edit in a later shot. 'Think about all the others that could be saved. They're waiting out there. They're dying right now while other women struggle desperately to become pregnant.' Another splice. 'We just have to let them know the technique exists and then stand back.'
Valerie recalled very little of her testimony. It was as if she were hearing it for the first time. Something about hearing her words on television brought her out of her own constricted world. For nearly a month her focus had been upon Valerie Dalton and how others had wronged her. Eight months ago, her thoughts had centered around Valerie Dalton and how pregnancy would interfere with her life. She lay atop the rumpled covers and stared at the TV. There are millions of Valeries out there, she thought. How can I help them?
She shook her head. I'm only one person. She gazed up at the ceiling. A paint chip there reminded her of the tiny stain on the ceiling of the operating room. All the events of the last few months came back to her in a sudden rush of awareness.
Dr. Fletcher was only one person, she realized. She saved only one life and changed the lives of everyone forever.
Valerie Dalton saw the rest of her own life spread before her like a broad, rich valley seen for the first time by an explorer who had just crossed the summit of a treacherous mountain. She jumped out of bed, energy surging through her. She wanted sparks to fly. '
'Do you have a verdict?'
Judge Lyang gazed expectantly at the foreman. So did Valerie, the defendants, and everyone else in the court. It was three o'clock in the afternoon. The jury had been at it since nine that morning. All eyes and ears turned toward the slender, greying man holding several sheets of yellow paper in his hands. Cameras focused in on him. He stood, visibly nervous about speaking in public, and addressed the judge.
'We do have a verdict, Your Honor.' He paused, staring down at the paper to avoid looking anywhere else.
'Please read your verdict to this court,' Lyang said with a bit of nudging impatience.
'Your Honor,' he said slowly. 'This verdict has been a very difficult one to make.' Karen grasped her husband's hand tightly. Valerie glanced at Fletcher, worry in her eyes. Fletcher watched the foreman intently, as did Johnson. As ever, the lawyer's pen hovered over his notepad, ready for anything.
'Your Honor, the jury has asked that I preface our verdict by stating that the reasons for our decision undoubtedly exceed the scope of this trial.' He looked down at the paper, taking his words from what was written there. 'No one judicial deci-sion is ever the final word. We only hope that the basis of our verdict can serve as a reasonable foundation for the contro-versy that will undoubtedly result.' He cleared his throat. 'It is the decision of the jury that the baby named Renata is the natural daughter of both Valerie Dalton and Karen Chandler.'
Voices whispered and muttered throughout the courtroom in confused surprise. Lyang gaveled for order, staring with incomprehension at the foreman.
'This is highly unusual,' she said. After a moment of thought, she added, 'So's this entire case. Proceed.'
