CHAPTER 57: MEMOIRS FROM THE CENTER OF THE WARZONE

SAM:

So admittedly, I should have realized how stupid getting involved with Lindsay Peterson was. In all truth, I could never really stand the woman. Even being a serial cheater, she just rubbed me the wrong way. YES! When I first fucked her, it gave me a thrill to know that I was boning a supposed lesbian, with a life-partner and a child. It was just the type of clandestine association I was looking for; something with no strings, a quick game of hide-the-salami, without all the entanglements and entrapments of a relationship. In short, for me it was a win-win situation.

However, all that changed when Lindsay would meet up with me at my openings. It wasn’t so much that she was there, but the expectation that we would keep hooking up. I went along with it, because hey… It was forbidden pussy, and what man wouldn’t be tempted by the thought? But then it turned into a form of extortion with her repeatedly threatening to mention our affair to my now ex-wife. So thirty thousand dollars later, here I am on the witness stand as one last favor to the amazing Amanda- a good woman, who got fucked over by my hands at the continued behest of a vicarious-living vixen. Now that’s not to say that I didn’t somewhat enjoy treating Lindsay like the whore she was, and there’s no doubt in my mind that she still is. But, what it has costs me to do so has never added up.

“Mr. Auerbach, please tell us how you met Lindsay Peterson?”

“She was the gallery manager at Sidney Bloom’s gallery, and was determined to court me into showing with them.”

“And did she succeed in doing her job?”

“She did.”

“I see. So what was the relationship between you and Miss Peterson like when you all began working together?”

I’m not exactly sure where he is going with this just yet, but it’s clear that he’s leading me somewhere. I decide to follow and answer. “The relationship was good… great, actually. I could tell that she was passionate about art, even if my work was technically out of her genre. In the meantime, I’d gotten an ego boost.”

“Pardon me, but you don’t seem like the type to need his ego stroked,” Mr. Sullivan says to me.

“Ordinarily, you would be right. But then again, sometimes what you present to the world is not what you really are.”

“Touche, Mr. Auerbach. So let me ask you, is that what you felt in regards to Lindsay Peterson?”

Now we’re getting to the nitty gritty, man! “It was indeed. I felt that she was hiding behind several facades. And whereas, my passion is Art, I also have a fondness for mysteries.”

“Can you explain to us how that translated into your having an affair with Miss Peterson?”

I smile, noticing Melanie on the other side of the courtroom, sitting behind Amanda. “You see, anytime I would make an advance towards Lindsay, she would laud loudly that she was a lesbian, and in a committed relationship with her partner of many years. But I always thought she was protesting a little too much. So I finagled an invitation to dinner at her house to meet this mysterious partner… you know, to get a feel for how she could lie to herself so easily. When I met Melanie, she was Lindsay’s opposite in every way, including the fact that she had a good heart. Lindsay always had this air of contempt about her, even though she always tried to cover it well. I found myself actually liking Melanie a lot more than I ever liked Lindsay.”

“What do you mean? Romantically?”

I shake my head. “No, not at all. I mean, Melanie is a beauty, that’s for sure. As an artist, I not only look at the outside of a person, but try to view their aura as well. It gives me a clearer picture of what motivates them, and allows me to translate their image to canvas, or in more recent years, channel the emotions they give off onto canvas. In Melanie’s case, I recognized a kindred spirit.”

“How so?”

“I just knew that if Mel wasn’t with Lindsay, she could be the type of chick I would love to hang out with. She would be the type that Amanda would love and want to fix up with a few of our other lesbian acquaintances. The problem was that she lacked self-confidence. Well, perhaps that’s the wrong term since it’s more like the self-confidence had been muted by her environment, or more accurately, who she surrounded herself with.”

“So why did you end up assisting Lindsay Peterson in cheating on Melanie Marcus?”

“In a lot of ways, as I’ve said, it was the thrill. But the more I thought about the lengths that Lindsay must have gone to subdue the force that Melanie Marcus really is, the more I wanted to free the woman from Lindsay’s clutches.”

“So it was a bit of altruism on your part?”

“In terms of Melanie, yes. But in terms of Lindsay, it was just me looking to get off. I didn’t really care whose warm body I was fucking as long as the end result was me scratching my hyperactive libidinous itch. Lindsay was just the chosen hole I used to do it in so I didn’t have to waste time looking. I can’t say she was a boring lay. She certainly didn’t earn those nicknames for being anything other than an over-the-hill version of Jenna Jameson, but she had her uses.”

Mr. Sullivan coughs to cover his laugh. His eyes are glassy, even as he attempts to maintain his professionalism. I take a mental picture of his face so that I can paint it later. As I chance a glance over at the woman of the hour, Lindsay looks like she swallowed buckets of rancid cum. I can’t say that I’m sorry she is hearing the truth about herself from my perspective; I should have told her a long time ago. I’ll have to examine why I didn’t later on.

“So how did it come about that you gave her money?”

“At first, it was just little things. You know, a negligee here and there, and other paltry gifts a man would give a mistress. I thought I needed to keep the mercenary and avaricious vibe she gives off intact, but for it to find a new target. I knew that they had a young son at home, and honestly, I didn’t want her pestering Mel about doing for her when Melanie had her own job, which was paying the bills much more than Lindsay was contributing, even with the job at Bloom Gallery.”

“So this was about altruism.”

“No, I'm no one's hero, man. And I'm certainly not that nice... well at least not where Lindsay's concerned. In fact, I have no doubt that Lindsay forced her brain into thinking my generosity was towards her and tried to turn our association into more than it was ever meant to be. But this was about a different type of respect for Mel, who has worked hard to get where she is, and continues to do so. That woman didn’t deserve to have a chick like Lindsay funking up her sheets. However, a couple of times, Lindsay did mentioned that she had something in the works, and needed money to help her in her cause. Perhaps if she had spent more time working instead of whoring, she could’ve met and matched what Melanie was bringing in. But castigating Lindsay for her loose morals wasn’t my aim, so we struck up a deal of sorts. I was her john, for lack of a better term, while she got to escort me to various shows within the Art Community. However, it was NEVER meant for Amanda to find out, nor was my money meant to cause harm to Melanie in any way. Both terms have been violated, which is the very reason I imagine we are here.”

“Okay,” Mr. Sullivan says, then walks back over to the desk for a moment. Honestly, I find myself fascinated with his movement in a purely esoteric kind of way. He moves like someone I’ve seen before, and based on the looks upon Lindsay, Melanie, and Jennifer Taylor’s faces, they seem to feel the same. He comes back over to me, and I’m reminded of a panther, stalking its prey before going in for the kill. “Tell me, Mr. Auerbach, has Miss Peterson ever spoken to you about a Mr. Brian Kinney, or a Mr. Justin Taylor?”

BINGO!! “Yes, to both, Mr. Sullivan. Although the emotions in her voice quite differed when she spoke about one or the other.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well when she spoke about Brian, who if I’m not mistaken is her son’s father, she was almost dripping in her panties each time she cooed his name…”

“Mr. Auerbach,” the judge interrupted, “is that description really necessary?”

“Sorry, Judge, but there is no better way to describe it. She was always shifting and moving against her seat whenever she spoke about him, almost as if she was trying to get her underwear to do the job I would complete later.”

The judge closed her eyes with my description, knowing exactly what I was saying without using the most vulgar and crass terms I could think of for Lindsay masturbating using the crotch of her thong. “Whereas, the court appreciates your candor, Mr. Auerbach, could we keep such descriptions to a minimum as much as possible?”

“Sure, your honor. If it helps though, I am being on my best behavior.”

“I have no doubt,” she snickers back at me before sobering. “You may continue with your questioning, Mr. Sullivan.”

“Thank you, your honor. So, Mr. Auerbach, there was a definite attraction to Brian Kinney on Miss Peterson’s part?”

“Attraction is honestly the wrong word; obsession would be more accurate.”

“Obsession? Are you sure?”

“About as sure as I can be since it was the only time I could tell her emotions were honest in their purest form. With Brian Kinney, it was unrequited desire, but for Justin Taylor it was clearly and definitely anger and rage. Those kinds of emotions are not easily confused. Besides, Lindsay often remarked that her son would have been born years earlier if Brian had just done what she’d expected of him.”

“What she expected?”

“Yeah. Lindsay is a cockhound,” I say, and automatically I see the judge bristle so I speak up quickly. “I’m sorry, your honor, but there really is no more of a decorous way to put it. She’s always looking for the inch-high private eye, as long as it’s anywhere from eight to twelve inches- her words, not mine. And if it’s attached to a hefty wallet, all the better for her. Whereas technically I’m well off- child support aside- Brian Kinney, even when he was back in college, was amassing a fortune through his own hard work and sacrifice. From the stories Lindsay would tell me, he was constantly working, studying, and honing his soccer talents to maintain his scholarship. His interactions with the men on campus, although few at the time, were varied which left no time for a substanial relationship even if he wanted one. The problem came when he was trying to console Lindsay after her break up with another lesbian girl. They got drunk, or at least that’s the story Lindsay told everyone over the years. But she told me the truth of the matter.”

“And just what was that truth?” Mr. Sullivan asks me.

“That she was determined to get Brian Kinney to marry her. Although the breakup of Lindsay Peterson and Rebecca Tucci was real, Lindsay was the one who initiated it during the last big party before finals that year. While we laid there recovering from a round of sex, she told me the entire story of how she’d arranged for Rebecca to meet her at the party, then she coerced Brian to have pity on her using her skills to cry-on-demand. Afterwards, she took him to her dorm room off campus and opened a bottle of wine, which was really white grape juice, while keeping Brian plied with his favorite drink, Jim Beam.

"After she was sure Brian was both high and drunk from not only the ecstasy she’d dissolved into the half bottle of Beam she always kept there for his visits, but the joint they smoked, she went into the bathroom and grabbed some of her roommates condoms. Then proceeded to poke holes in them with a straight pin. She seemed almost-gleeful when she spoke of it.”

The whole courtroom gasps before Mr. Sullivan asks me, “You mean she was trying to get knocked up?”

“Yes, but she had miscalculated her cycle, and her period came not twelve hours after her attempt. She was further distraught because she caught Brian fucking some guy in his dorm room the next morning when she’d gone there, trying to ‘reassure’ him that there were no hard feelings and that them having sex didn’t change anything between them. She complained that he hadn’t even stuck around for breakfast; that still sticks in her craw to this day.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Disgusted! Women like that should have been swallowed, not birthed. But then again, Lindsay always was a bitter bitch; her mother probably couldn’t stand the taste.”

“Mr. Auerbach, I’m warning you…”

“Yes, your honor, I understand. But what, if anything, I said about Lindsay’s character is ringing untrue so far, based on what you know?” I challenge back. I really want her to understand just what and whom she is dealing with when it comes to Lindsay Anne Peterson. She is NOT innocent, no matter that she looks like the fucking Madonna sitting over there.

Mr. Sullivan clears his throat. “So do you think that was her ultimate goal in beginning an affair with you?”

“I can’t say for certain, but I wouldn’t have put it past her. Lindsay never does anything without an ulterior motive in mind. However, if that was the case, she would have been sorely disappointed since I had a vasectomy after my twelfth child was born. I should have had one way before I did, but it wasn’t my fault that all of the women I have kids with had a set of twins first, before having a single birth not soon afterwards. Like most, I never believed that lightning could strike twice… or in my case twelve times.”

“So now that you have divorced, what’s going to happen for you now?”

“I’m not really sure, but I felt that I owed it to Amanda and Melanie to be here today. I think most of us in this courtroom know firsthand how Lindsay likes to twist the truth to her advantage. I wasn’t going to let that happen against Amanda, especially not when I know I could have prevented it. I may not have a rock solid moral compass, but I do pay attention when it rears its head. This time, it did with big flashing lights and sirens blaring. I’ve learned over the years to heed it.”

“No further questions at this time. Counselor, your witness.”

“No questions,” Mr. Fisher says, and we can all see the moment Lindsay goes nuclear.

“No questions?! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE NO QUESTIONS?!” she screams, and I’m hard-pressed not to laugh. It’s not everyday you see someone in handcuffs who still believes they are in complete control of their situation. I guess the time for the crocodile tears and a false sense of regret is long past.

The judge bangs her gavel. “Mr. Fisher, please control your client. This is a court of law, and she is not a cheerleader at a football game. Decorum and protocol will prevail here!”

“Yes, your honor,” Mr. Fisher says placidly, although there is a distinct twinkle in his eyes. I can’t help but wonder what Lindsay did to piss the guy off.

“Mr. Auerbach, you many step down. We’re going to take a half hour recess to give Mr. Fisher sufficient time to confer with his client. I’m sure it’s needed.” She bangs her gavel, and exits the bench.

I’m not sure what is going on, but I see Lindsay being led out draped in her favorite red pantsuit with handcuffs and a long chain adorning her wrists. “Why is she in handcuffs?” I ask Amanda as I come upon the attorney and the ladies.

“That’s a long story, Sam, but…”

I shake my head. “Somehow, I am not surprised. In fact, I would imagine that all of her elaborate lies have come back to bite her in the ass.”

“They did,” Melanie says, as she continues to look at me. “Did you really do Lindsay to protect me?”

“I would have done more if I could have, Melanie. For what it’s worth, I’m glad if for no other reason than you’re free of the bitch. Lindsay Peterson is poison to good-hearted and talented people everywhere.”

“Well, thank you,” Melanie tells me.

“Don’t. If anything, I just want you to go and live the best life you can without that bitch. I know I will,” I tell her.

“Sam,” Amanda says to me, “when and where is the next show?”

“Clarence tells me it’s in about two months in New York. Why?”

“Because once I win your money back, you should be able to make it back to Italy before then. The kids need to see you.”

I nod. She’s right. They do need to see me, and if I’m honest, I feel the same way about them. This whole thing with Lindsay had my head and priorities so twisted, that I didn’t even register that the same reasons she was able to blackmail me, were the same ones who I needed to draw strength from. I told Mr. Sullivan the truth when I said that what the image appears to be on the outside of a person is sometimes far different than what is going on within them. I didn’t want to have any interactions with my kids that Lindsay could use. I mean, hell! She’s tried to use her own son as a bargaining chip one too many times, and has gotten caught. There was no telling what she would do to mine, especially since it was obvious that she was trying for baby number thirteen. Most people would think that Lindsay is certifiably insane, but the truth is, she’s just fucking greedy and smart. It’s hard not to admire the ruthlessness of her, while still guarding yourself and all you hold dear against it.

“You coming with me?” She looks at me a long time, trying to figure out what my question really means.

I know that Amanda loves me, and always has. But we never had the kind of love she’d found with Anthony, and the kind I’d been searching for all my life. It’s why I know that no matter what, she and I will always be friends, even if our marriage crashed and burned miserably, which it did. Even though it's both of our faults for settling, it still makes me quite sad.

“Sure. We can be happily divorced together,” she answers, smiling.

“All rise, the Honorable Judith Wapner is presiding. Court is now back in session.”

“Thank you, and please be seated. Mr. Fisher…” We all follow her gaze and look on the other side of the courtroom to where Lindsay and her lawyer should be sitting, only to find it empty. “Bailiff, please find Mr. Fisher and bring him and his wayward client into the courtroom. I want to get this done within the next hour, if at all possible. And please make it clear that I do NOT appreciate this flagrant disregard of the court’s time.”

“Yes, your honor,” he calls back as he hurriedly leaves. Within minutes, he comes back in looking both harried and amused. “Ma’am, Miss Peterson has been taken into custody… again.”

“Again?” the judge registers the surprise we all feel. “What for?”

“Assault on Martin Fisher, ma’am. He will be here momentarily to hear your verdict in absentia, as Miss Peterson is being processed… again.”

“With the pending charge of assault, I’m not sure it is wise to allow him to continue to argue this case. Has the legal aid office been contacted as of yet?”

“I believe your clerk has been notified of the situation, Judge Wapner. So far, the verdict is that all parties within that office with the exception of Mr. Fisher had to recuse themselves, your honor.”

“All?” she gasps.

“All, ma’am.”

“As in both male and female?”

“Yes, your honor,” she says with a definite twinkle in her eye. “It seems that over the years, Miss Peterson has made a lot of um... contacts... within law circles.”

“Miss Marcus, is this true?”

“Yes, your honor. Lindsay used to accompany me to all of my business functions in the past. We were involved for well over eight years, ma’am.”

“And how do you feel about the present set of circumstances?”

“If I may be candid, your honor?” Melanie asks, approaching the front of the courtroom. At the judge’s nod, she continues. “I will be honest and say that whereas I’m shocked, I am not surprised. Lindsay on the outside is as placid as a lake on a summer day, but once thwarted, she becomes volatile. She’s also incredibly cunning, and familiar with law procedures and the mitigating circumstances which can delay a verdict. She’s watched me enough over the years to understand what can upset a case and leave it at a standstill in litigation. Therefore, I’m not at all surprised that she attacked her attorney, as it was the fastest way in her mind to delay the inevitable outcome.”

“Inevitable?”

“Yes, your honor. Although Mr. Sullivan has not called me to the stand, please understand that I still have Lindsay’s power of attorney, and access to all of her financial records. That said, I know exactly where she has been placing her earnings as Samuel Auerbach’s mistress. Since she is technically incapacitated, I have all of the necessary documents to act in her stead on all her accounts, including this one.”

“But if you were the person she was cheating on, how can you be considered unbiased in this situation?”

“I will be honest, your honor. I had stopped caring about what Lindsay does a while ago. It was evident that she no longer loved me; just the idea of me, in case her ultimate plans fell through, which they all have, including the one which has landed her in jail from the onset. Part of that particular reason is why I still have her power of attorney, and if I’m honest, she’s probably forgotten that I still have it. However, it suits all of us that I do, and that I’m prepared to pay Lindsay’s debt to Amanda Auerbach without guilt or malice in my heart. My reason is simply because it is the right thing to do.”

“Do you know what the money was going to be used for?”

“I do, your honor. But I cannot, in good conscience as an officer of the court, disclose all of the facts in open court as it will jeopardize other pending litigations against her. However, if you would like to know off the record, I will be happy to share the entire story with you in judges’ chambers after this matter is resolved to its full extent.”

The door to the courtroom reopened to allow Mr. Fisher to hurry down the aisle. “Sorry for the delay, your honor,” he stated, breathily.

“Understandable, Mr. Fisher. I take it that you want to make a statement on Miss Peterson’s behalf?”

“I have the statement, your honor, but I don’t want to make it.”

“Why not?” Judge Wapner asks, clearly about to lose patience with this entire ordeal.

“When I suggested that she write a statement in rebuttal and remorse for the part she played in the affair with Samuel Auerbach, she seemed compliant. However, her words were in direct opposition to that thought, your honor. When I advised that I would not allow her to present her ill-thought words to the court, she became violent.” He touched the side of his cheek where a host of scratches appeared on the surface of his skin. Some were superficial, but the others were deep enough to still be bleeding.

“Do you have that statement at hand, Mr. Fisher?”

“I do, your honor.” Wordlessly, he handed her the wrinkled paper. It was evident he was still holding it when she attacked him. “Please be advised, your honor, that the sentiments of my client in no way reflect my own.”

The judge perused the handwritten missive a couple of times, before setting the document aside. She says, “Mr. Fisher, I certainly understand your reluctance to read such filth within my courtroom. However, for the benefit of the court and to paraphrase the clear message given within the letter for the record, as some of it is just too vulgar to repeat, Ms. Peterson has stated that she will not willingly surrender the money that Mr. Auerbach had given her, friend-to-friend. She also stated that the both of them were saddled with non-communicative and inattentive partners, and were only seeking companionship. Therefore, anything monetary or other tangible goods she’d received from Mr. Auerbach should be seen as gifts. She also blamed their affair on the fact that Amanda is barren, and Samuel had told her many times how he would love to see her ripen with his child, although he wanted her and Brian to raise the baby. That is all I will give the record about her testimony, although the entire litany will be put into evidence at the close of this case.

"Now, that said, Mr. Fisher, I am awarding the plaintiff with the thirty thousand dollars as requested. Based on witness testimony, including the audio confession of Craig Taylor and his involvement with Lindsay Peterson, and the actions of your client, herself, the court sees no reason to delay this case for an indefinite period of time, as it is evident that Miss Peterson hoped it would. Therefore, I will allow her power of attorney to be executed by Melanie Marcus. Ms. Marcus, please see that a cashier’s check is issued within the hour to Ms. Amanda Auerbach, along with all affiliated court fees. Case dismissed!” She banged her gavel, and leaves the bench.

As they gather their things, I just have to ask, “What the hell was in that letter?”

Mr. Fisher looks decidedly uncomfortable as he tries to formulate a palatable answer. As he mulls it over, I can tell that no matter which way he spins it, the whole matter is still leaving a bad taste in his mouth. “Simply put, she insulted everyone within the courtroom. For Ms. Jennifer Taylor, she is a frigid bitch, whose husband was so desperate for ass that he was more than willing to engage in statutory rape to get away from her frostbitten twat. Cynthia Moore is a jealous cunt, who wanted to ride Brian Kinney’s dick but was never woman enough to take what she wanted the way Lindsay did. For Amanda, she said that the barren bitch should just kill herself, and as for her ex-wife, Melanie was just a low-class way to pass the time, who was easily manipulated and molded to the point where she might make someone a halfway decent doormat.”

I watch as they all absorb Lindsay’s insults. Some just look confused, but remarkably, all are pretty much unbothered. When I ask why, Mel tells me, “It’s just her lashing out at us because we all have the power she’s always wanted, but that her pussy couldn’t buy.”

Jennifer Taylor adds, “While we all are successful women in our own rights, we did it honestly and under our own steam, whereas every scheme she tried, from the time of her teens until right at this moment, has backfired and it soon will again…”

“Especially with that baby she’s carrying. Brian already said that he wasn’t going to play faux daddy. I think with your appearance here, Sam, her play for emotional extortion just took a nosedive. The fact that you got snipped after kid number twelve put the kibosh on any future hopes of getting a rich man to take care of her,” Cynthia says.

“And the child, right?” Mr. Fisher asks.

“No,” Mel answers, shaking her head. “Lindsay is all about acquisition. It was the reason she was so adamant about Brian being the father of Gus. But then her plans backfired when Justin appeared under that streetlight the night our son was born. Her continued machinations to get rid of him just assured that Brian would not only never be hers, but that she’ll get to watch from the confines of a nine-by-nine as the three of us co-parent Gus and live our lives happy and out loud. I can’t think of a better plan of revenge than that. As Brian says: The best revenge is to live well, and look fucking fabulous doing it.”

Jennifer smiles, “Well, my son-in-law is indeed a brilliant man.”

And I can see exactly why Lindsay was jealous of the woman and her son. It didn’t help that she gave birth to the brilliant young man, who is still working his way back into the art world after the grievous injury to his head and hand. I've seen his work prior to the prom incident, and some of the more current stuff like the cover of the Rage series. I was both surprised and pleased that he seems to be returning to the craft he was simply born to do. Add that to the fact that his mother, Jennifer Taylor, never let the bitter ending of her marriage stress her to the point of retreating out of the upper echelons of society, where Lindsay longed to be, and there is no question that Miss Peterson will be stewing in her rancid juices for many years to come. Well, I can’t say that I’m sorry for her, or sorry that I ever met her. That would be negating everything that’s happened to my life before or since I did. To that end, I’m going to decide to follow the tenets of Brian Kinney, the man who Lindsay always quoted when she wanted to drive home a point. I’m going to start living again, but this time I'll be living in the solution and not the problem, which is all I've ever seemed to do when I wasn't creating. With Lindsay in jail indefinitely, this is a perfect time to do just that!