Clear and Convincing Proof by Kate Wilhelm Page B

you’re in for a long punishing ordeal,” she added sympathetically to Annie and Darren both.
    â€œAnd from here on out, you absolutely should not answer any questions unless I’m with you, or my associate is. The police may pretend shock, or try to make you feel guilty over wanting your attorney, but it’s a charade. It won’t mean anything. Insist, no questions without your attorney present.” Although, she added to herself, it was a little late for that bit of advice.

10
    T hat Friday evening, Erica did not linger at the clinic after reading. She had not worked that day, and although she certainly could use the money, she had been happy to have the day off. It was Todd’s weekend with his father, and she had invited them to dinner. She knew about the meeting going on in the directors’ room; everyone knew about it. She might have time to prepare most of the meal before Darren got home, have it ready for him when he arrived cold and tired.
    Over the holidays, when both Todd and she had been out of school for two weeks, he had spent several days in her half of the house waiting for Darren to get home from work. One day she had taken him shopping, and in a Goodwill store they had found abread machine for ten dollars. That afternoon they learned to bake bread. Another day they had gone to the pound for a kitten. Darren had objected: Todd couldn’t have a pet when he was gone most of the time.
    â€œWe’ll go in halves,” Erica had said. “Half his, half mine. When Todd’s at his mother’s house, I’ll keep the kitten here. I’ve always wanted one, too. Half a kitten is better than no kitten.”
    â€œWhich half is mine?” Todd had asked.
    â€œWe’ll flip a coin. Tails gets the kitty litter box. Heads gets the eating end.” They had all laughed. She ended up with the litter box and most of the feeding, but that was all right. That Friday she had been home when Todd arrived from school, and he had come straight to her door, looking for his end of the kitten. He was still there playing with the kitten when she got back.
    It would be a simple meal: fish, spaghetti, bread, salad and brownies for dessert. She had memorized the recipe earlier and shopped for the ingredients that morning. As she got busy at the stove, Todd played with the kitten, dragging a string for it to pounce upon.
    â€œRikki,” he said, “what happens if you’re born on February twenty-ninth? I mean, how do you count birthdays? One every four years? I wish I was born on the twenty-ninth.”
    She laughed. “I don’t think it works like that. Maybe you celebrate on the twenty-eighth instead of waiting.”
    â€œMy birthday is on the twenty-sixth.” He yanked the string hard and the kitten fell on its face. Laughing, he picked it up and stroked it. “I should have named him Clumsy,” he said. He had named it Napoleon and they all called it Nappy. Then, still petting the kitten, keeping his gaze on it, he said, “When I’m twelve Mom said I could choose where I want to live. But she said that if Dad’s in trouble, I might have to wait.”
    Erica stirred onion and garlic in olive oil. “I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. There’s an old saying, don’t borrow trouble. It means don’t worry about all the things that could possibly go wrong. In a few weeks I’m sure everything will be fine, and you’ll get to make your choice.” Todd began to pull the string for the kitten again. She took his silence to mean, What do you know? Or, You don’t understand. She added tomatoes and peppers to the skillet.
    â€œDo you know how to play hearts?” she asked then. “I thought maybe we could play cards after we eat.”
    â€œSure,” he said. “I know how to play bridge, too. Dad taught me.”
    She bit her lip. She would have to learn how to play bridge. Someone at the clinic