WRONGFUL DEATH
The AIDS Trial
A Novel by
Stephen Davis
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2006, 2010 by L & G Productions, LLC
Chapter One
October, 2011
"Grayson, please eat your cereal."
Sarah tries to help her seven-year-old by putting a spoon filled with something that slightly resembles oatmeal into his hand and guiding it toward his mouth. Grayson only clamps his lips tighter and turns his head away until she gives up, hands him the spoon, and goes back to the counter to finish making lunches.
"And Peyton, you have to eat something."
"I told you, I can't eat in the morning, Mom. I'm already too fat! And please tell Grayson to close his mouth when he eats." The eleven-year-old shoots a nasty look at her younger brother. "That's disgusting!"
Grayson takes another spoonful of cereal, puts it in his mouth, looks directly at his sister, opens wide and lets some more dribble out onto his chin. Then he smiles with that devilish look in his eyes.
"Mom, he's doing it again!" It isn't a whine from Peyton as much as a plea for help.
"Grayson, stop it please...and eat your cereal, don't play with it."
Matthew, the oldest at thirteen, finally shows up for breakfast, sees his little brother spewing cereal out of his mouth like a volcano and gives him a gentle slap across the top of the head to try to make him stop.
"Mom, just once can't we have bacon and eggs, or waffles, or anything that normal people have for breakfast? Do we always have to eat so...healthy?" Matthew knows he isn't going to get an answer, or if he does, it would be the same one he always gets to that question. Peyton doesn't wait for a response either.
"Mom, can you take me to get my piercing this afternoon?"
"Oh, Peanut, I'm sorry. Probably not today." Sarah winces at the disappointment that makes its way across Peyton's face, overshadowing her normally cheerful and captivating smile. "I just can't promise anything today. I doubt it...I might have to be in court all day."
Sarah puts down the almond butter knife for a moment and looks out her oversized kitchen window into the perfectly manicured desert garden. It's hard to tell whether she's frustrated, confused, anxious, or simply thinking about the big day ahead.
"Bill, is that coffee ready yet? I really need..."
Before she can finish, Bill reaches around her with a full cup, putting it gently into her right hand and kissing her on the cheek at the same time, whispering in her ear, "It's a big day for you. Good luck!"
Sarah turns and kisses him back, blows away the steam rising from the cup, and then carefully takes a sip.
"Thanks."
She glances at her watch.
"Oh, my God. I just can't be late today! Kids, please help me out."
Bill takes the knife from her hand, unties her apron, and starts shooing her out of the kitchen.
"We'll be fine. This is important, so you go, now. I can finish their lunches." When Sarah resists, he insists. "Go ahead, get out of here. The kids and I will manage somehow."
