The Perfect Life (11 page)

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Authors: Erin Noelle

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BOOK: The Perfect Life
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“Please rise,” the stout, bald-headed bailiff announced to the packed courtroom, and without hesitation, I

along with my mom and sisters

pushed up to our feet, anxiously awaiting the ruling.

Dressed in our Sunday best, we stood in the front row of the stuffy space that smelled like anguish and despair, directly behind my father and his team of attorneys. As the judge entered the room, Dad took a brief moment to turn around and give us an encouraging smile, mouthing the words, “Don’t worry. I love you.”

The elderly man in the black robe, Judge Edward Langford, picked up the gavel and banged it three times once he was settled at the bench, prompting the bailiff to call the court to order and instruct everyone to take a seat. A nervous buzz could be felt throughout the outdated courtroom, while reporters from both the local and national media, as well as most of the members of my small hometown of Kinderhook, IL, waited with bated breath to find out what the judge had decided on sentencing, as the jury had delivered their “Guilty of Second Degree Murder” verdict three days prior, a lesser conviction than he was originally charged for.

Thankfully, he wasted little time. “Mr. Saxon, please stand,” he commanded with a grunt, removing his glasses and scrubbing his hands up and down his face. “In my thirty-plus years of sitting on the bench, serving the people of the state of Illinois and the United States judicial system, I can assure you that I’ve never had a case like this cross my desk. It’s hard for many people

especially those who are parents

to view your circumstances without bias and emotion. However, as hard as it may be to do, it’s my job. What I swore on oath to do. As a father myself, it pains me to have to sentence you, as I can’t even pretend to know how I would’ve reacted had I been in your shoes. And I know many people undoubtedly feel your actions were justified, but bottom line is you went outside the law to do it, and as such, must be punished accordingly.

“After thorough reviewing all of the testimony and evidence, most glaringly the span of time that elapsed between you finding out about Mr. Hilton’s relationship with your daughter and when you ultimately confronted him, I hereby sentence you to ten years in prison and a fine of five thousand dollars with your time served of six months applied to the term. You will be allowed a chance to visit with your family directly following this hearing, after which you will be transported to Western Illinois Correctional Center to begin serving your sentence.” He paused and stared intensely at my father. “Do you understand everything that I’ve just stated, Mr. Saxon?”

“I do, your honor,” Dad assured him.

The judge began to speak again, but the heartbreaking sob that escaped from thirteen-year-old Charlotte on my left drowned out everything else. I peered over at her as she held her swollen belly, shaking uncontrollably, and my entire world crumbled. I was devastated knowing that not only would my little niece not be able to meet her grandfather until she was an adolescent, but that all of us would be without the most important man in our lives for years to come. The man who taught us to tie our shoes and ride our bikes. The man who carved the turkey every Thanksgiving and personally cut down the Christmas tree every December. The man who instilled in us appreciation for music, the importance of laughter, the meaning of unconditional love, and ironically, the value of life. He was now the man who would be missing from a huge chunk of our lives . . . all because he defended one of his own children.

First, one tear escaped, and then another, and by the time Judge Langford finished his speech and banged the gavel to close the hearing, I was bawling like a baby. My mom, who was on my other side, slid her hand in mine and squeezed, smiling down at me with her own tears streaming down her cheeks. “We’re all gonna be okay, Ollie. I promise we’ll figure it out.”

As the judge exited the bench, the courtroom erupted in mass chaos as people began screaming and shouting about injustice and unfairness. A second bailiff came and escorted us away from the pandemonium and into a small room where my father was waiting. Sprinting to him as a group, we nearly tackled him as we all began to talk at once, spewing our frustration and rage at the ruling.

Holding his hands up in the air to silence us, he offered an understanding smile and did his best to console us. “I know you all feel that you’re going to explode with the anger and wrath you feel inside yourself right now, and you have every right to feel that way. Believe me, I was hoping for a less harsh outcome as well, but let me remind you of what happens when you allow your emotions to control your actions. That’s how we got here in the first place. If nothing else, please learn from my mistakes.” His voice was calm and collected, and I remembered thinking that even in what had to be the worst moments of his life, my dad put the needs of his wife and children first, because that’s what he did and who he was. Always.

“Now, we don’t have a whole lot of time here before I have to go,” he continued, “but I want you all to promise me that you will stick together as a family no matter what while I’m away. Your mother is going to need support and help around the house, as she now has both the music shop and the dance studio to manage. Mallory and Emma, you two have grown into such beautiful young women, and I can’t wait to hear about your successful journeys into adulthood. I love you both more than you can ever know, and I’m so very proud of you girls,” he addressed my two older sisters before turning to Charlotte, who was still unable to gather her composure. “Baby girl, there are so many things I’ve wanted to say to you since that night, but simply haven’t had the opportunity or the right words, so I promise the first thing I’ll do once I get there will be to write you a letter and explain everything. I want you to know I love you from the deepest part of my heart, and all I’ve ever wanted was the best thing for you. Promise me you’ll do the same for this baby growing inside of you. Promise me you’ll love her and protect her with everything you have.”

Charlotte nodded through her wails, and as our dad engulfed her in his strong arms, I saw even the bailiff wipe a tear from under his eyes. Once Dad released her, he stood and focused his attention on me. “Son, this is much earlier than I thought I’d have to say this, but I have full faith in you to take care of this family. You’re the man of the house now, and until you leave for college,” he raised his eyebrows at me and pinned me with a stern look, “and you
will
go to college, I need you to take care of your mother and your sisters. I know it was hard for you to say the things you said up on that stand, but I’m proud of you for telling the truth. No matter what happens from this point out, I can rest assured that I have raised four honorable and respectful children. My love for all of you has no limit.”

A woman stuck her head inside the door to let us know we had five minutes left, and after he hugged each one of us kids again, he and Mom shared a few private words and several kisses in the corner. Another law enforcement agent then entered the room and my dad allowed them to cuff both his hands and feet before he was led away. That was the day my dad became my hero and I vowed to never disappoint him.

 

A lump formed in my throat as I replayed the events of that day almost eighteen years ago in my mind, and with a hard swallow, I forced it back where it came from. It was then that I looked down at my phone and noticed the time on the display.
8:52!
Monroe was due to pick me up in less than ten minutes and I still hadn’t put a tie on, nor had I decided on a proper hello. I scrambled into my bedroom, which still felt odd to call
mine,
since it wasn’t my furniture or my bed linens, and grabbed the first skinny tie I came across in the closet, looping it around my neck just as I heard my phone ding again.

“Sweet Jesus! What now, dear woman?” I muttered while stuffing my wallet into my back pocket before going to retrieve my phone from the bathroom counter. Expecting another off-the-wall message from my mom, I stilled with a sharp intake of breath when I saw the screen.

Monroe: I’m parked in front of the building. Blue Volvo SUV.

Lifting my gaze to my reflection for a final assessment, I swore to myself I wouldn’t stare at her breasts, fantasize about her lips, or bring up how I defended them both to the jackass from the airport bar. Then, with a hard swallow, I turned around and headed downstairs to meet her. It was show time.

“We are

the scientists,

trying to

make sense of

the stars

inside

of us.”

–Christopher Poindexter

Monroe

“HE SAID HE
thought I’d smell like a
peach
?” Wrinkling up my nose, I shook my head with amusement as I glanced over at Oliver in the passenger seat of my car. “What do they even smell like? Is that a good thing? Are peaches some sort of aphrodisiac I’ve never heard about?”

He choked back a laugh and nodded. “Well, I haven’t gone around sniffing a lot of peaches in my life, especially not Georgia ones, but using the context of his remarks, I’m guessing he thought it was a
very
good thing. I still can’t believe he actually said those things out loud or that you’re not more upset about it. I was livid
for
you.”

My heart fluttered softly at his words, knowing he tried to defend my honor to some stranger at an airport bar, even though he and I barely know each other. After our initial meeting a couple of weekends ago, he’d been busy preparing things in Chicago for his six-month stint away from home, while I’d spent most of that time in Detroit with Allison helping her during her surgery and recovery, so we hadn’t had much time to talk other than sporadic texts as I updated him on her condition.

Thankfully, all had gone well with the double mastectomy, and after four days in the hospital, she was released to finish her recuperation in the comfort of her own home. Since Allison had never married and had lived at the MH house for most of her adult life, it was important for me to be there with her during those first few brutal days. I refused to allow the woman who was more of a mother to me than my own flesh-and-blood to face that alone, no matter how many times she insisted she was good and didn’t need me fussing over her. Plus, since the regular season had officially kicked off the weekend after the gala, it wasn’t like Colin would be at home longer than to sleep at night for the next five or so months. I did, however, return in time to support my husband and the rest of the team for the home opener, which was apparently when Oliver and this other guy saw me on TV.

“I learned long ago not to worry about that kind of stuff,” I replied matter-of-factly. “As long as I know it’s not anything I’m doing or the way I’m presenting myself publicly that is provoking people to make negative or derogatory comments, then it’s on them, not me. I can’t control their thoughts, words, or actions, and I usually choose to ignore it. Do you know how many times I’ve seen on social media women making catty comments about me not being good enough for Colin? Or that the only reason he married me was because I grew up with famous parents that would help advance his celebrity status? I’d spend my entire life responding to that nonsense if I did.”

I paused briefly as I turned into the driveway of the second house we were touring as a possible location for the MH home, giving him a moment to think about what I’d said. After shifting the car into park and turning off the engine, I twisted to face him and offered a grateful smile. “But I really appreciate you sticking up for me. You didn’t have to do that . . .” My voice trailed off, but before he had a chance to speak, I added in a breathy whisper, “Most people wouldn’t have.”

“I normally wouldn’t have, but it was you,” he blurted out while staring down at his fidgeting hands in his lap. His beard didn’t hide the hard bob of his Adam’s apple as his words hung heavy in the tight confines of my car, the silence stretching on until he added, “Even if you are rebellious, Rizzo, you don’t deserve to be degraded like that.”

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