My husband drops me at the entrance of the mall while he parks the car. As I wait for him, leaning on my crutches, I notice that men, women and children are all starring as they pass me by. One little boy even asks me about my big «booboo» while patting my casted knee. His mom, a bit embarrassed, apologizes for him, but I think it is kind of cute. At the information counter, I trade my crutches for a wheelchair. Tom props up my cast on the leg rest and we then begin our little ride. Again, people are starring at me, especially the men. They don't even try to be subtle about it, they just look at my casted toes with a huge smile on their face.

Suddenly, I have a great idea. «Tom, let's find one of those little shops that sell toe rings».

«Toe ring? You want to buy a toe ring?» Tom asks.

«Well, yeah. I think it would look great with the cast. Since my toes will be on display for months, might as well have them look their best».

Tom takes me to Eve's Garden and the salesgirl, who is about 16, watches me with wide eyes as Tom wheels me inside.

«Hi there. I'd like to see some toe rings please» I tell her, amused by her reaction. I can't blame the girl, this is probably the first customer she's had with a huge leg cast.

She comes back with three rings: one silver, one golden and one with small red dots on it.

«Which one do you like best?» I ask Tom.

«I like the golden one» he replies.

«Can you slip it on?». Tom kneels in front of me and very gently, slips the ring on my second toe.

I wiggle my toes as I admire my new piece of jewelry. «It looks nice. I'll take it» I say to the girl who still hasn't said one word. The trip to the mall lifts my spirit and even my leg seems a bit better today. I'm starting to get used to this big cast and I'm getting better moving around on my crutches.

The temperature is so great on Sunday that Tom and I decide to go for a «walk» in the park. We drive to Benson Park which is located just outside the city. We sit on the bench, in front of a small lake and watch the boats go by. My casted foot is resting in Tom's lap and he's gently stroking my toes. He seems to be doing that a lot lately. I'm not complaining, I think it's a very sensual gesture on his part.

«Are you OK honey?» Tom asks as he sees a sad look on my face.

«I'm all right. It's just that it is so gorgeous outside this time of year and I would give anything to be rollerblading» I say, watching the men and women skating by.

«I know it's hard for you baby. You know what? I'd give anything to be the one with the broken leg. I wish I could make it better for you...».

I know how he feels. Loving my husband as much as I do, I can't bear the thought of him getting hurt, experiencing pain as I have in the last weeks. It must be hard for him to see me hobbling around with a broken leg.

«Do you miss my leg?» I ask Tom.

«What?».

«Do you miss my leg? I know it's kind of weird but I miss seeing it sometimes, touching it. Never mind, it's a crazy thought...»

«No, it's not crazy at all honey. Yeah, I guess I miss it in a way. You know how much I love your shapely legs...».

«Is that all I am to you? A pair of shapely legs?» I ask Tom, pretending to be hurt.

«Of course not! I also like your perky breasts and your tight little ass and...».

«Stop it! You're incorrigible» I tell him making a motion to hit him with a crutch.

We laugh so hard that an ederly couple sitting near by turns around to look at us. Tom is now rubbing the ball of my foot. I close my eyes and take in this perfect moment. The sun is warm on my face and a slight wind is blowing in my hair.

Before going home, Tom and I stop by a small seafood restaurant. The food is delicious, the music very soothing and the wine is not too bad either. It is way past ten when we get back home. Still enchanted by this perfect day, we end up in bed.

Tom is slowly undressing me, wispering in my ear how desirable I am. He cups my breasts in his strong hands and a burning desire take over my body. For the first time in three weeks, I completely forget about the cast, the shattered bones in my leg and give into my husband's sweet caresses. Tom has always been a very tender lover, but since I got injured, he has shown me even more tenderness. I guess he's trying to tell me he's here to protect me from any more harm. Our love making is slow, and yet passionnate. When it's all over, we're both exhausted but so happy.

My heart is beating fast as Tom stops the car in the courthouse's parking lot. That's a good sign, it means I will be on my toes at all time. Tom has taken the morning off so he can see me make my opening statement. I have a hunch he also wants to keep an eye on me in case I do to much.

We arrive half an hour early, at my request. Before a trial, I like to go in the courtroom and visualize where the jurors will be seated and just have a «feel» for the place. This morning, my ritual is cut short when a court officer tells me that Judge Stanford wants to see me in her chambers.

Curious, I follow the man up to the judge's quarters.

«Come in Miss Bailey and please, sit down. I want to say that I was very sorry when I heard about your accident. How's your leg now?». Margaret Stanford is a woman in her fifties who is well-respected in her field. She's always been considered fair by all the lawyers who have one day set foot in her court. I'm touched by her consideration.

«It's a bit better, thank you for asking».

«I've called you up in here to tell you that I understand completely your situation and I don't intend to make it hard for you out there. So if you want to remain seated for your questionning and cross-examination, that'll be fine by me. Is there anything you need to make you more comfortable?».

«Well, I still need to elevate my leg so if I could have an extra chair at my table, that will help a lot».

«Consider it done. Well, I'll see you in a short while Miss Bailey» the judge says.

By the time I get back to the courtroom, there is already a chair waiting for me. It is nice to know that in time of needs, people show so much consideration for others. That will probably be the lesson I'll have learned from that whole experience.

Sid is sitting at the table, waiting for me. He puts my crutches behind me and helps me sit down before the jury is called in.

«The court of the Honorable Judge Stanford is now in session». I get up on my good foot and I feel Sid's hand on the small of my back for balance. The judge sits down and asks the prosecution to go ahead with its opening statement.

I slowly get up on my crutches and hobbles toward the jury. At first, two or three jurors stare at my leg but pretty soon, I'm able to win them over by my strong statement. I talk for about an hour and when I'm finished, I'm glad to see that my leg is not hurting as much as last week. That's a good omen. I rest my casted leg on the chair as I listen to Bill Collins, the defense attornay, have his say.

An hour later, Bill sits down and Judge Stanford asks me to call my first witness.

«I call Detective Roy Simpson to the stand your Honor».

The detective's testimonial lasts two days. I want to make sure we cover everything, from the smallest object the police have found on the scene to the time of the murder. Detective Simpson has been with the Boston Police Departement for over 15 years and his work has always been meticulous. This case is no exception.

The next two days, I question the ME, Dr. Robert Clark. At times, his testimonial is down right gruesome. He informs the jury that before her death, the victim was severly beaten. During the autopsy, he found a broken jaw and cheekbone, two cracked ribs and a sprain wrist Mary Ferguson probably sustained while defending herself. She then was shot point blank in the face.

I shutter as I listen to Dr. Clark, wondering how a human being can be filled with such hatred feelings.

Right in the middle of the courtoorm, there is a big board with pictures of the murder scene pinned on it. Some jurors turn as white as a sheet when we unfold them. I hate putting them through this, but they have to understand the severity of the case.

So far, my leg is holding up OK. Each night, Tom ices my casted ankle and he massages my foot and toes. He read somewhere on the internet that it can help with blood flow and speed the recovery process. If it works, that's fine by me, but if not, I really don't mind those sweet foot rubbing.

My pictures is now appearing in every newspapers in town and there is also reports of the case on National TV. For the first time, I can see what I really look like hobbling on crutches, with a casted leg. I hate it though when the reporters calls me «the injured prosecutor», but after all these years, I have learned not to pay too much attention to them...

Friday, I call Loretta Walker to the stand. She's the next door neighbour who heard the Fergusons fight two days before the murder. She also heard the gun shot that ended Mary Ferguson's life. She's a very nice old lady. The first time we met, she told me I reminded her of her daughter who died in a car crash three years ago. As she sits down, I can tell she's a bit impressed by her surrondings. I decide to get up so I can be close to her.

Sid hands me my crutches and I feel every stare on me as I stand up on them. A sharp pain shots through my leg and I close my eyes for a few seconds.

«Miss Bailey, are you all right?» Judge Stanfford asks with a concerned voice.

«I'm OK, Your Honor».

«Very well. You may proceed».

I hobble slowly towards my witness and I can tell that Miss Walker is a bit concerned about me. I establish that she was home the night of the murder and that she heard the shot at exactly 9:05. Usually, she's out playing bingo every Friday night, but because of an electrical failure at the church, everything was cancelled.

I point out that Stanley Ferguson knew Miss Walker would be out and that he planned the murder that night so nobody could hear the shot from his gun. Their houses being the only two ones at the end of Chunsey Street, no one except Miss Walker would have been able to hear anything.

«Did M. Ferguson knew you would be out that particular evening?» I ask.

«Yes, because he used to tease me once in a while about it. He would say things like «I hope you win the big one tonight, Miss Walker» whenever he saw me leave for the church. He was always so nice to me» she aswers.

«Since your car is in the garage and you leave a light on everytime you go out, then he couldn't have known you had returned, is that right?».

«Yes, I guess».

The questioning lasts for the whole day and my ankle is pounding as hard as Judge Stanfford's hammer when she calls a recess for the weekend. I crutch back to my seat with a wince of pain on my face.

«Is your leg hurting baby?». I didn't see Tom come into the courtroom. I don't want him to know that my broken leg is throbbing again.

«I'll be OK» I say, putting back my papers in my briefcase.

Without a word, I follow Tom to the car. Painfully, I get in the SUV. When I look up, Tom is starring at me.

«What?».

«Nothing! I didn't say anything».

«No, but I can read your mind. You think I'm doing too much too soon. Don't worry baby, everything will be all right» I tell him, patting him on the shoulder. He takes my hand and gently kiss my fingers.

«What will I do with you Jennifer Bailey?».

«For the next two days, anything you want, mister» I reply with a wicked smile.