Either way, the money phase of the trial has begun, and Kay's lawyers, Solovay and Scott Greathead, are slowly starting discovery into the Lowinger family businesses. The other side vows to appeal at the same time that a source close to them suggests that Edith's assets could conceivably be manipulated so that she technically leaves nothing to any of her grandchildren.
Meanwhile, Kay's matrimonial case against Lou is still slogging along in the Westchester courts; the trial date is set for January. It's easy to imagine the dickering extending well into the twenty-first century. "I am sure you will all be back here in the future, no matter what the verdict is," Judge Kapnick told the lawyers at the end of the trial.
The three children are more estranged from their father than ever. The oldest child, for one, remains mystified about her grandparents' motives. Until this month, she'd never even seen a photo of her own grandfather. "My dad used to mimic Chinese and Japanese voices," she says. "Whenever I'd ask him why his parents do these things, he'd say, 'My parents saved lives in the Holocaust. You can't say such things.' Maybe they're so hurt because their son married a Korean that they have broken three people because of it. The last time I met with my grandmother was four or five years ago. She said, 'You're not Korean. You're a Jewish-American girl.' That'll mess you up."
With his medical training completed and no full-time job, Lou has been showing up for classes at the Weist-Barron acting school in midtown. One October night, a few weeks after the verdict, he asked a fellow student out for a cup of coffee. "I said, 'Actually, I don't have the time,' " the woman remembers, "and he said, 'Sure you do.' "
Lou placed his hand at the woman's elbow and escorted her to Starbucks. They were there about ten minutes, enough time for him to try all the old moves. "He told me that he had memorized days of the calendar," she says, "and that I could name any date and he'd tell me what day of the week it was, going back 300 years. I said I used to be a flight attendant, and he said, 'When I was younger, my family business took me to the Orient, and I used to fly all over the Orient.' " No mention of another flight attendant from long ago.
He told her he was a gynecologist, specializing in emotional problems. "And then he said, 'By the way, do you mind if I tell you what I see in your eyes?' " She let him. "He said he could tell that I was a very sad person, and that I needed a lot of guidance -- and that what I should do every day is say to myself, over and over, I'm a special person. He told me that I didn't have anything to do with my childhood, and that the only important thing was to do what you wanted to do in life. This was all in just ten minutes."
Then Lou said, "Now I want us to have dinner." "I said, 'I don't know about that.' " He asked her out again as he drove her home, and she agreed, but she canceled a few days later. He's called her four times since then.
"Every now and then in the car," the woman remembers, "he turned to me and said, 'Now, who's a special person?' "