Okay, What are we giving you this week? Well this one is a little odd. There are so many elements in this story that it could go into a lot of different categories. There's of course some cheating both real and imagined. There's some action and adventure. There are alligators, incest, abuse and a whole lot more but mostly it's a romance, though an odd one. Of course since it's one of my stories there will be a Mustang or two thrown in for good measure. Thanks as always to Mikothebaby for editing this story, without her input and vigilance this story wouldn't be nearly as readable. She also came up with the name of the story and thanks to her for just being there.
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Real life is stranger than fiction. At least that's what I've heard them say on television. My name is Savannah Hill. I'm headed for court this morning. In fact, we'll be at the court house in only a few minutes. The thing that's going through my mind right now isn't how soft my dress is, or the fact that except for my boobs being a little bit bigger, my body is back to being the same size it was before I had my baby. I'm also not thinking about how soft the leather I'm leaning my head back against is or the thrumming sound of the Mustang's motor as we head through the early morning Louisiana heat.
I'm not thinking about how much I'd sweat if the car's air conditioning wasn't cranked to the max or how the hell I'm going to walk in these high heeled shoes.
I'm also not thinking about the throng of reporters from nearly every news station and paper in the state and a few national ones as well, that will be waiting to talk to me as I walk into the court room. They'll also be covering the trial as closely as possible. The judge has claimed though that he'll seal the court room if there is even the slightest hint that this case is becoming some kind of circus, media or other.
None of that matters to me as I look over at the face of the man driving me to the court building. He's probably, once you get used to the differences, one of the most attractive men I've ever met. And whether you get used to the differences or not, he's definitely the kindest and most caring.
I have to admit that if it weren't for him, I probably wouldn't be alive and neither would OUR baby. I guess that's why I have to do this. Sometimes people don't know when they're well off and someone who cares about them has to step in and give them a little push in the right direction. The right thing to do is often the very hardest thing to do for even the best among us. That's why we sometimes need the tiniest little nudge to help us. Then there are times when the legal thing and the moral thing are completely divorced from each other.
I love the man sitting next to me more than I can ever say. And he loves me too, although he's never said it. I can see it in his eyes when we have sex and every time he looks at me. More than that, I can feel it. OUR baby deserves more than he wants to give her and so do I. That's why I'm taking him to court. They, the newspapers and the media, have called this the strangest paternity suit, EVER. I guess I'd probably have to agree with them. There's that real life being stranger than fiction thing. But there are also the circular patterns of both fate and the universe to try to contend with.
Now I'm not nearly as smart as Greg is, but sometimes maybe he's just too damned smart for his own britches because even I can see the pattern here. I can see just as clear as anything I'm looking at that he and I were meant to be together. He has to take responsibility for his actions in this and I'm hoping the judge will see it my way too.
Greg pulls into a parking lot behind the court building and the reporters surround his Mustang immediately. Greg gets out and they immediately start pestering him with questions. He walks around and opens my door for me and takes my hand to help me out of the car. Fortunately, I'm wearing a dress where the skirt section is very long and very tight. I'm wearing that kind of dress because Greg likes me dressed like that and I like to make him happy.
In this particular case I'm also glad because Greg's Mustangs are all lowered. That means they sit even lower than normal because they've been fitted with special springs to improve the handling. It also means that if I had a shorter skirt on, when I tried to get out, my panties or even my private parts could end up on TV behind one of those blurry patches.
So Greg stands in front of me as he helps me out of the car just in case something does show. As he closes the door behind me, he smiles and I raise one eyebrow and tilt my head to look at him.
"Naw, buddy, that ain't gonna do," I said. Then I almost stumble and catch myself before unleashing a flurry of curse words. "Shi...Shucks," I said. He smiled and nodded. I crook my index finger at him in the universal "get the fuck over here" gesture. He sighs and complies with my request. I go up on my toes and wrap my arms around him and give him the softest kiss on those big soft lips that I can bestow as the cameras flash literally hundreds of times in the second or two that we're locked together.
"I know ya don't understand any of this, but I'm doing it because I luv ya," I said.
He just shrugs and walks off towards the court. There were only a few reporters at first but now there are tons. Some of them break off to follow Greg while the rest follow me. A small man wearing glasses and a very expensive suit makes his way through the crowd and grabs my arm.
"God damn it Savannah, didn't I tell you to stay the hell away from Greg, during the case," he sputters.
"How the hell am I supposed to do that, when we sleep in the same bed," I snapped.
"Don't give me that shit," he spat right back. "That house has at least five bedrooms in the main house alone. Last time I looked your room and his weren't even on the same side of the house."
"That's not my fucking room," I spat. "That's the room he gave me, not the one I chose. Besides Ben, Greg is like the air I breathe, I can't go for too long without him."
"Then why the hell are you..." his eyes darted left and right seeing the reporters trying to write down or record every word we said.
"We'll discuss this further once, we have some privacy," he said. Then he pushed his way through the reporters and dragged me along with him.
Unfortunately, there was little or no time for us to confer. Almost as soon as we sat down, Ben started looking through his briefcase to take out his notes and briefs on the case. He set up his laptop computer on the table in front of us.
I looked across the room and saw Greg talking to a skinny little woman. I immediately got pissed. I ground my teeth together and shook my head. I'm twenty two years old and a healthy southern girl on the small side. I have small breasts, but my legs and my ass make up for it. I'm five foot two and I weigh about a hundred and ten pounds. That woman made me look like an amazon.
She was about my height but that was where the similarities ended. She couldn't have weighed more than ninety pounds and she was so thin, she looked almost unhealthy. Her hair was the mousiest shade of brown I'd ever seen. Even her face looked mousy. But despite that she looked happy. She looked too God damned happy. She looked like she wanted to just start singing at any moment.
She had on one of those women's power suits. I didn't care much for them. They made me think that the women who wore them wanted to be men. This one didn't though; despite her attire she was just as girlish and giggly as they came.
Even as I looked across the room, she said something to Greg and they both started laughing. That was it. I was on my feet and launching myself across the room at the worst possible moment. I took off my high-heeled shoes and started for their table and Ben grabbed me by my arm and tried to pull me back.
"Whatever that bitch is trying to pull, won't work," I spat. "Who the f..."
"Shut up you moron," said Ben. He pointed towards the door that had just opened. An old gray haired man who looked like he could be the pope walked into the room and spoke to the bailiff.
"That's Greg's lawyer," said Ben. "She's from New York. They always act like that. Her name is Ally or something. She's probably just trying to relax him. You need to calm down because Judge Wapner doesn't take any shit."
"All rise," said the bailiff, as the judge got his shit together and sat down. He put on a pair of glasses and looked over the cases again. He looked over at me and then at Greg. Then he looked at the case file again.
"Counselors approach the bench," said Judge Wapner. Ben got up and went over to the judge. The skinny little New York bitch did too. I glared at her as she stood up and she blew me a kiss.
I needed to ask Ben when he got back if he could represent me against an assault charge.
After a few moments of consultation, during which both lawyers shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders a lot, the lawyers returned to their respective seats.
"This case is highly unusual," said Judge Wapner. "...But let's proceed. Mr. Matlock you can call your first witness."
Ben stood up. "I call Savannah Hill to the stand, your honor," he said. I approached the stand and was sworn in by the bailiff.
I sat down in that hard little chair next to the judge and smiled.
"Miss Hill, you are suing the defendant Mr. Gregory Gates for paternity..."
"Don't leave out housing rights," I spat, interrupting him.
The judge leaned over and smiled at me. "What are housing rights?" he asked. "I'm ninety years old. I've been practicing law and serving as a judge for over fifty years and I've never heard of housing rights, young lady."
"Your Judgeship, housing rights are the rights of a woman to live with her man. A child also has the right to whenever possible live with its parents," I said. I threw in an extra smile.
That skinny little bitch almost got smacked then because she stood up and started using her mouth. "I object," she said. She doesn't realize how lucky she is that there were no OBJECTS within my reach that I could throw at her.
"There are no such laws on the books in any state in the union. This whole case is a farce. Did you look at the DNA evidence? My client can't possibly be the father of this child. Even discarding the DNA anyone with half of a brain can see that it simply isn't possible. Besides that, my client, in a completely unheard of gesture of generosity has offered to provide either monthly or a lump sum that would take care of both the plaintiff and the child. I move that this case be dismissed immediately," she said.
A lot of the people who lived in town spoke up then. They all agreed with her. Several of them were looking at me as if I had two heads. They were all acting as if I was some sort of gold digger or freeloader. "Don't worry about them," said Ben. "They're all just small town folk. They all know him and want to support one of their own."
"Order in the court," yelled the judge. After the audience quieted down he looked over at me.
"Young lady is what Ms. McBeal said true?" he asked.
"Judge," I said smiling. I made my accent a little bit more pronounced because I know that slow southern accent works wonders on the city boys. It always works on Greg too. I just throw a little bit of magnolia in my voice and he can't say no to anything I ask.
"I can't say whether or not she's lying because I didn't get most of what she said. I did pick up a word here or there. I did hear the part about "Farts" and "Discarding" things. I think she said that I only have half of a brain. But other than that, it would be so much easier for all of us if we could reduce our cases to simplest terms," I said.
All of the people in the court room who'd been against me actually agreed with that and said so loudly. That little Ally McBitch shrank down in her chair then.
"Let's do that," said the judge. "Mr. Matlock for the benefit of everyone present could you please briefly state your client's case."
"Your honor, my client Miss Savannah Hill is suing for the court to acknowledge that Gregory Gates is the father, legal and otherwise of her daughter Gigi. Furthermore she wants for herself and her daughter to continue living with Mr. Gates in perpetuity. Oops sorry, that wasn't very plain but I think everyone gets the picture."
Judge Wapner rolled his eyes. I was sure I heard him say something about "Fucking lawyers," under his breath.
The judge turned to Greg's skinny city lawyer and told her to do the same. For some reason she chose to stand up and flounce around the courtroom while she spoke. I think she was just trying to show off how skinny she is.
"Your honor, my client is only here to try to protect his good name. The plaintiff's claims are fallacious and possibly damaging to his standing in the community..." I was on my feet in an instant.
"Okay I admit it," I screamed. "I fellated him on several occasions but we never did anything while he was out in the community. We hardly ever leave our property. This is a witch hunt. Did you notice that he never said anything about cheating on me while I was pregnant?"
"Your honor, I maintain that since my client has never married Miss Hill, it is impossible for him to have cheated on her," spat McBeal.
"What business is this of yours anyway, bitch," I spat. "What you'd better maintain is a closed mouth. It's going to be pretty hard for you to talk with a fat lip. I don't like your big city attitude at all. No matter how this case comes out when we're done, I'm going to whip your ass."
The people all over the court room started whooping and hollering and the judge had to bang his gavel several times to get them to quiet down.
"Can everyone here see why I asked for plain language now?" asked Judge Wapner. "I'm going to call for a five minute recess and then Miss Hill, I'd like you to calmly and without threatening anyone answer Mr. Matlock's questions."
I stepped down from the stand and went directly to where Greg was sitting. "Greg, I want you to fire her. I don't like her," I said. McBeal just stood there with her mouth open. "If you do," I continued. "When we get home I'll give you a blow job and bake you that pound cake that you love."
Before I could say anything or Greg could answer the bailiff was pulling me away from him. "You can't speak to the other side during the court session ma'am," he said.
A few minutes later I was back on the stand.
"Miss Hill, you are under oath," said Ben. "How long have you known Mr. Gates?"
"I met him three years ago when I was nineteen and he was twenty-nine," I said.
"How long have you been living with him?" he asked.
"It's been about a year and a half. I was two months pregnant when I moved in with him," I said.
"So your child is nearly a year old. Does Mr. Gates involve himself with the child?" he asked.
"Very much," I said. "He's a great dad. He carries her around and rocks her to sleep. He feeds her and even changes her sometimes."
"So what's the problem?" asked Ben. "Is he cruel to you?"
"Of course not, why would I want to stay with someone who was cruel to me?" I asked.
"Then please tell the court what the problem is," he asked.
"Jeezus Ben, you already know that," I spat.
"Tell the court," he said again.
"Greg has two gazillion years-worth of bullshit in his head. Oops sorry your honor I didn't mean to say bullshit. Oops I didn't mean to say it again," I said.
"Can you be more specific?" asked Ben.
"Greg wants Gigi and me to leave because of what it looks like and because he's afraid of us, especially me," I said.
"What made you think that after a year and a half," asked Ben.
"Because he wrote me this giant check and told me that now I had enough money to go and live wherever I wanted," I said.
"And your response to that was?" asked Ben.
"I tore the check up and told him I already was living where I wanted," I said. "And he told me that it would no longer be possible for us to continue our current arrangement. I know why he said it too but I'm not going to say."
"What did he do then?" asked Ben.
"He told me that he'd start looking for a place for me and if I hadn't found one on my own within ninety days, he'd have all of my stuff moved there."
"Did you believe him?" asked Ben.
"Hell yes," I spat. "Greg is one of those people who just want to be miserable. He doesn't understand that bad things happen to good people sometimes and that in order to live, you have to take risks. He'd rather be safe than happy."
"So the bottom line is that you'd withdraw your suit if Greg would let you stay in his house?" asked Ben.
"Not anymore," I said. "He started this shit. So he has to pay now."
"I thought that he'd already offered you a very generous financial arrangement," said Ben.
"This ain't about money," I said. "It's about what's right and it's personal now."
"No further questions, your honor," said Ben.
Ms. McBeal, you may cross examine," said the judge.
"Ms. Hill, are you..." began Ally.
"I'm not a Miz," I spat. "I'm a Miss."
"Be nice Miss Hill," said the judge.
"You can call me Savannah, judge," I smiled. "Everybody does except my Greg. He calls me Vannah. I like that."
"Savannah are you..." began Ally again.
"It's Miss Hill to you, bitch."
"Miss Hill, are you really claiming that my client is the father of your child?" she asked.
"I most certainly God damned am," I spat.
"Are you familiar with DNA?" she asked.
"Of course I am. It stands for Deoxyribonucleic Acid and it contains the hereditary information about most organisms. Let me guess, you thought I was stupid because I have a southern accent, right?" I asked.
For a few minutes she looked shocked. My answer had thrown her off of her game totally.
"According to the DNA report I have here in my hands," she said. "I have scientific proof that Gregory Gates is not the father of your child. What would you say to that?"
"I'd say that since most of the people here aren't scientists and can't read a DNA chart, your proof doesn't mean shit." A lot of the people in the audience laughed and even the judge snickered.
"Okay," she spat. "You want to do this the hard way. You want us to put this in common terms? Let's do that. Your baby is white. I've had an expert read the chart. Your child is one hundred percent Caucasian. That means the child had two Caucasian parents. Is that true Dr. Welby?"
A man stood up in the second row. "Your honor, I'm Dr. Marcus Welby. I've examined the DNA chart that Ms. McBeal provided and she is correct in her statement. The child in question has two Caucasian parents."
"And since as everyone here can clearly see that Mr. Gates is African American, the reason we've all been called into court becomes murky," said Ally smiling.
"The only thing murky around here is your bath water, you dirty bitch," I said. "Your honor, I didn't know that we were playing show and tell. If she's allowed to trot out her pet doctor, do I get to show my side of this too?"
"I see no reason not to allow you that opportunity," said the judge.
Ben's laptop was hooked up to a projector. He pressed a few keys and the projector lit up. On a side wall in the courtroom a video began to play. I'd shot the video only a few weeks ago. I was sure I would need it to prove my point.
On the screen the video showed a little girl's room. Everything in the room was white or pink. Cartoon characters and unicorns were everywhere. In the center of the room a small child's bed with the safety sides up. A tiny little girl grabs the bars on the sides of the bed and pulls herself up. She starts bouncing up and down on the bed. She looks towards the door and her face smiles. She reaches up to Greg who towers over the bed and says, "Dada."