— “Yes, Your Honor.”
Andrew Vance stood and approached my mother without a hint of a smile. Professional, direct, lethal.
— “Ms. Sterling, you were eighteen when Allison was born?”
— “Yes.”
— “And you voluntarily left her with your parents when she was three months old?”
— “Well, it wasn’t exactly like that…”
— “Yes or no?”
— “Yes, but…”
— “Thank you.”
Andrew Vance pulled out a large printed calendar.
— “Your father kept meticulous records. According to them, during Allison’s first year of life, you visited her four times: Christmas, Easter, her first birthday, and one random Saturday in July. Is that accurate?”
Diane’s face flushed.
— “I had a lot going on. I was young. I was trying to support Steve’s career.”
— “Of course. Let’s talk about that. Your husband was a professional baseball player, earning a significant income. Correct?”
— “Yes.”
— “According to tax records, over his career, he earned over a million dollars, and yet you required monthly financial assistance from your father.”
— “We had expenses.”
— “Expenses that a million dollars couldn’t cover?” Andrew Vance pulled out bank statements. “Your father transferred $1,500 to you every month, starting from Allison’s infancy, for over twenty years. That’s nearly $400,000, Ms. Sterling. What was that money used for?”
Palmer jumped up.
— “Objection. This is irrelevant.”
— “The plaintiffs claim they deserve a share of the estate. I am establishing what they have already received,” Vance countered.
— “Overruled,” the judge said. “Answer the question.”
Diane shifted in her seat.
— “Living expenses. Rent, food, normal things.”
— “Were you working during this time?”
— “Sometimes. Retail jobs.”
— “And your husband?”
— “He tried several business ventures after his career ended.”
— “’Tried’?” Vance repeated. “A sports bar that lasted eleven months. A coaching company with zero clients. A memorabilia shop that went bankrupt in two years. And every time one failed, your father provided extra money on top of the monthly allowance. Correct?”
— “He wanted to help…” Diane said weakly.
— “He wanted to help you become independent,” Vance corrected. “But instead, you became dependent. In the last ten years of his life, how many times did you see your father?”
— “I… I don’t know. Several times.”
Andrew Vance pulled out another document.
— “According to his calendar—eight times in ten years. Less than once a year.”
A silence fell over the courtroom.
— “And you call that the behavior of a devoted daughter?”
— “I was busy. I had my own life!” Diane protested.
— “’Your own life’,” Vance repeated. “Did that include calling him on his birthday?”
Silence.
— “I’ll take that as a no. Father’s Day? Christmas? Cards? Gifts?”
— “Sometimes,” Diane whispered.
— “Right, sometimes. Ms. Sterling, when was the last time you saw your father before he died?”
A long silence…
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