She scrolled through her phone contacts, pressed Matthew’s number, and the phone rang once, then twice, then it was answered. “Matthew, I have wonderful news. The Superior Court just referred Jason’s case to a three-judge panel, to be decided in thirty days.”
“Thirty days?” Matthew groaned. “Why do we have to wait thirty more days? That’s so long.”
“I know that’s later than we hoped, but it’s the best we could have done in the circumstances.” Bennie understood his disappointment, since he was a father, and a layman. “The Superior Court never acts this quickly. They only rarely grant expedited appeals, much less schedule a special sitting, just for one case. The law has limits, Matthew.”
“I guess it’s better than nothing.”
“Yes, it really is.” Bennie didn’t bother to toot her own horn. She had made remarkable strides in a case that she only got a few days ago. “I’m hoping that the good news will alleviate the stress Jason’s been feeling, with his hair falling out—”
“Uh, well, Bennie, I did mean to talk to you about what happened at River Street yesterday.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” Bennie hadn’t forgotten it, but it wasn’t uppermost in her mind, since Judge Kittredge’s order. “I can explain—”
“You don’t need to. I heard about it from Jason. I called him last night to say good night.” Matthew’s voice grew tense, and Bennie knew she was in trouble.
“Matthew, I’m so sorry—”
“I was very shocked to hear what he told me. Is it true that you’re dating Richie’s uncle?”
“Yes, but—”
“You’re fired.”
“What?” Bennie absorbed it like a blow.
“You’re fired. You’re not my lawyer anymore or my son’s.” Matthew’s words spilled out, in agitation. “You’re sleeping with Richie’s uncle. That’s why you’re up here. That’s why you’re staying in Jim Thorpe. You don’t care about Jason at all.”
“No, that’s not true!” Bennie’s mouth went dry.
“How could you do such a thing? Whose side are you on? My wife must be turning over in her grave. Here I am, I’m scrambling to pay you, working a double, and you’re sleeping with the enemy.”
“Jason’s enemy isn’t Richie, it’s the Commonwealth—”
“That’s the problem with you lawyers! You want to talk your way out of this. You can’t. You let me down. You let Jason down. You don’t care about us. You tricked us. You’re a traitor.”
“I care about you both,” Bennie said, stricken. “I care about Jason. I love—”
“Jason told me what happened with that crazy mother, busting in to see you. She attacked you while you were there with my son! She beat up the guard! They had to call the cops and lock the place down! What if she hurt Jason?”
“I wouldn’t have let that happen.”
“Why did you get involved with these people? Mother and son, they’re cut from the same crazy cloth! The uncle’s prolly nuts, too.”
“He’s not, he’s a state trooper—”
“Defend him, why don’t you!” Matthew raised his voice, angry. “I don’t have time to argue with you, I have to get back to work. I’ll pay what I owe you, that’s it. Don’t you dare charge me for the time you spent in bed with the uncle, either.”
“Matthew, please.” Bennie felt desperate. “I’m this close to getting Jason out of prison. We’re on the one-yard line. Let me argue the case this month. Let me get in front of that panel and finish the job. I won’t charge you a penny. I can free him, I know it.”
“No, I’m done with you. I’m going to find another lawyer. One who knows what loyalty is. Send me his file or whatever you call it. Stay away from Jason.”
“Matthew, no, please. Let me just go visit him.” Bennie felt her heart break at the thought of leaving Jason this way. “I don’t want him to think I abandoned him. Let me say good-bye to him, not for my sake, but for his. He needs—”
“I have to get back to work. Leave him alone. Go back to Philly where you belong.”
“Matthew?” Bennie said, but he had hung up. She remained motionless, holding the phone and sitting on the bed. Sunlight filled the empty room, which had fallen silent. She tried to collect her thoughts, but they tumbled over one another, impossible to parse. Her heart ached, and she found herself shaking her head, saying no in answer to a question that no one was asking.
Bennie knew Jason would be hurt, and he’d see it the way Matthew did, believing that Bennie didn’t care about him. She didn’t know what to say or what to do. She couldn’t see Jason, and she couldn’t call Declan. She had won in court, but it didn’t matter. A wave of despair washed over her. She had no reason to be in Jim Thorpe any longer.
It was time to go home.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Bennie opened her front door and let herself in, exhausted, cranky, and depressed. She’d thought of nothing but Jason and Matthew the whole ride home, kicking herself. She dropped her stuff on the floor, slid out of her coat, and hung it up as Bear ran ahead, leaving pawprints on the mail, scattered on the floor. She left it lying there and walked to the kitchen. Bear trotted over, his bowl in his mouth, but she took no pleasure in his trick, scooped out some kibble, and dumped it into the bowl.
She went to the cabinet, slid out a glass, and filled it with water. It overflowed quickly, but she let the water run. She couldn’t stop her thoughts from coming, or her regrets. She’d never been fired by a client, much less one she cared so much about, and as a result, she had jeopardized the well-being of an innocent child. She knew, down deep, that the loss she felt was more than professional. Losing Jason was something palpable, an emotion given flesh, and it was something like a mother’s love.
She turned off the water and took a sip, then dumped it out, disgusted at herself. She’d always put her client’s interests first, even above her own. The one time she’d let herself follow her heart instead of her head, she had lost. And so had Jason and Matthew. She tasted bitterness on her tongue, and she knew it was guilt. She bore responsibility for whatever happened to Jason from now on. She’d been so close to saving him; she had nobody but herself to blame for losing him. She looked down at the empty glass, and on impulse, threw it full force at the far wall, where it shattered, raining broken glass.
Bear startled at his bowl, and Bennie realized that she’d just done the stupidest thing ever. If the dog walked in the glass, he’d cut his paws. She cursed herself, got the dustpan and hand broom from underneath the sink, then began cleaning up the mess she’d made for herself. She was wondering if her life had just become too literal, when the phone rang in her pocket. She set the dustpan down, then reached for the phone to see that it was Declan.
“Hi,” Bennie answered, cheered. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going, that’s all I can say.” Declan sounded tense. “I don’t have long to talk. I wanted to give you the heads-up.”
“Great, yes, go ahead.”
“Doreen wouldn’t agree to anything. She denies ever hurting the boys. She thinks she doesn’t need a psychiatrist and neither do they. She took back everything she said about Richie. She won’t let me hire him a lawyer or psychiatrist. So, it’s on.”
“Oh no.”
“We filed our papers. Doreen’s lawyering up. I have to testify tomorrow. The boys were taken out of the house to be examined by doctors. They also have to be seen by psychiatrists. It was tough. They freaked.” Declan’s tone sounded pained. “Christmas Eve is tomorrow night. They want to know if Santa’s still going to come. The timing couldn’t be worse.”
“But it couldn’t be helped, either.”
“Right. I know. So tonight we’re going to prepare my testimony. I’ve testified before, but never against my own sister. I hate that I have to call her an unfit mother in public.”
“You’re doing the right thing, Declan. You’re all in. That’s what’s so great about you.”
“By the way, my lawyer’s heard of yo
u. He says you’re famous.”
“Hardly. What’s his name?”
“David Zilkha. We have to meet with our psychiatrist, too. We’re putting on an expert.” Declan paused. “Did you hear anything from the appeals court on Jason’s case?”
“Oh right.” Bennie had almost forgotten. “Good news. The judge sent the case to a panel of the Superior Court, to be decided in thirty days. It will be excellent precedent for Richie.”
“That’s great, congratulations!” Declan brightened. “I’m so proud of you. You must be so happy.”
“Not exactly.” Bennie hated to break it to him, when he had so much else on his mind. “I got fired. I’m not on the case anymore. Matthew found out about what happened at River Street, and he wasn’t happy.”
Declan groaned. “No, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes it was.”
“No, let it go. I’m trying to. I’m hoping Matthew gets another lawyer right away, and practically all they have to do is show up. Jason will be free, and the decision will be controlling for Richie’s case, as well. That’s what really matters, that these kids get out.”
“Babe, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, really. The lawyer doesn’t matter, justice is what matters, right?”
“Excuse me, hold on a sec.” Declan paused at the sound of talking in the background.
“Declan, if you have to go, I understand.”
“I do. Sorry. I don’t know if I’ll get to call you tonight.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll talk when you can.”
“Good night,” Declan said, then hung up.
Bennie hung up the phone, slipped it back into her pocket, and resumed cleaning the broken glass. It reassured her to know that Declan had gotten the twins to safety, but it didn’t help Jason and Matthew. Her guilt and sadness returned, and all she wanted to do was shed her bra and street clothes, put on her sweats, and read in bed until it was time to walk the dog and go to sleep.
So she did.
* * *
The next morning, Bennie woke up refreshed, trying to put Jason out of her mind as she showered, changed into a comfy sweater and jeans, made some coffee, then walked to work with the dog. The sun was high and the wind chilly, but not brutally cold, and her house in the Fairmount section was only a half an hour stroll from the office, down the breezy Benjamin Franklin Parkway that ran from the Art Museum to Philadelphia’s City Hall. Red-and-green decorations and Hanukkah lights festooned the flagpoles along the parkway, and holiday traffic was unusually congested.
Bennie reached Center City, where last-minute shoppers carried bags bulging with gifts, and she remembered that she owed Declan a Christmas gift. She headed toward Walnut Street and lingered at store windows, forgetting that she hated to shop. She had only one gift to buy, and it was for a man she had fallen in love with, so maybe she liked shopping, after all. She ended up at the Burberry store, found her way to the men’s department, and picked a gray cashmere scarf, then trotted to her office with her bag.
“Hi, Bennie!” Marshall looked over from her desk, having been talking to an older African-American woman in a blue wool coat. She was petite and attractive, and bifocals couldn’t hide her bright brown eyes, slightly hooded. Her hair was short and tightly coiled, interspersed with fine gray strands.
“Good morning, all.” Bennie walked over, and Marshall gestured to the woman.
“Bennie, this is Yvonne Walker. She wanted to speak with you about a new matter, but I didn’t know you were coming in today.”
“I changed plans, sorry about that. Hello, Yvonne.” Bennie extended her hand, and they shook hands while Bear sniffed Yvonne happily, always glad to meet a new client.
“What a nice dog!” Yvonne smiled, patting Bear. “He must be well trained to be able to come to the office with you.”
“He knows the owner. How can I help you?”
“I was just telling your receptionist that I lost my job, last month. They fired me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Bennie couldn’t help identifying with Yvonne, but didn’t say so.
Marshall interjected, “This is quite a story, Bennie. Wait’ll you hear.”
Yvonne smiled, warming to her topic. “I was a claims adjuster at Graham Hill Trust. You know the insurance company?”
“Yes, I do.” Bennie knew GHT as a Fortune 500 company based in New York, with offices in major cities around the country, including Philadelphia.
“I was terminated because of my age. So were my two best friends. We’re in our sixties, the oldest people in the department, by far.” Yvonne pursed her lips, which were lightly lipsticked. “The VP called it a reorganization, but all he did was reorganize us out. They replaced us with younger people, and our performance reviews have been wonderful. We’re not about to take that lying down. We’re the Stitchin’ Bitches.”
“What?” Bennie smiled.
“It’s a quilting club. That’s what we call ourselves. GHT insured many businesses in lower Manhattan and the home office got hit with a flood of claims after 9/11. Ever since then, they’ve been watching the bottom line. ‘Nobody gets bonuses for paying claims,’ that’s what they say.”
“Ugh, for 9/11? Have a heart. Haven’t those people suffered enough?”
“Precisely.” Yvonne arched a perfect eyebrow. “So we want to sue them and we have proof. You see, the three of us were on a conference call last month, when two of the bosses called. They told us we have to step up denials.” Yvonne sniffed, indignant. “We finished the conference and we were about to hang up, but then we heard them talking about us. They thought we had hung up already, but we heard everything they said!”
“What’d they say?” Bennie asked, intrigued.
“The boss said to the VP, ‘I cannot wait to get rid of those old bags. It’s like having three grannies on the phone!’”
Bennie gasped.
“That’s not all!” Yvonne’s dark eyes flared. “The VP said, ‘I think it’s about time we checked our bags, don’t you think? Let ’em go next week!’ Then they started laughing!”
“My God.” Bennie could imagine how hurtful that would have been, but it was also home-run evidence of discriminatory animus. “Did anybody hear this, besides the three of you?”
“Yes. Raymond did, a young adjuster. I told him to write it down. I thought it would come in handy if they fired us. Pretty good for an old bag, huh?”
“Ha!” Bennie laughed, feeling her juices start flowing again. She knew employment law like the back of her hand. She was back in Philadelphia in her own law firm, legally and physically on terra firma. She needed to move on from Jason and Matthew.
“So, will you represent us?”
“Happily,” Bennie answered. “Let’s get to work.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Bennie worked in the conference room, drafting a Complaint in Yvonne’s age-discrimination case. She barely noticed that darkness had fallen and it was Christmas Eve, in a city twinkling with holiday lights. In fact, she didn’t even realize she had missed dinner until Lou materialized in the doorway with an aromatic bag of takeout.
“Special delivery from Lou the Jew,” he said, entering the conference room and setting the bag down in front of her. “Thai red curry. Vegetarian.”
“How nice of you! How did you know I was here?” Bennie looked up from her laptop, and Bear stretched and walked over to Lou, wagging his tail.
“Marshall told me you came in and she knew you’d work through dinner.” Lou eased into a chair, sinking into his best camel overcoat, which he had on with a tie and jacket.
“You’re dressed up.” Bennie pulled the bag of Thai food over, realizing she was hungry. Bear came around her side of the table, evidently coming to the same conclusion.
“Going out to dinner with one of my buddies and his wife. She likes fancy places, so I have to wear a noose.” Lou tugged at his tie.
“What are you doing here? I heard you won. I thought you’d be celebrating with Sergeant Right.”
“Nah. It might be a few weeks before I see him again, which sucks.”
“What happened? I got a minute.” Lou cocked his head in an encouraging way.
“He got held up on some family stuff, and I got fired, so nobody feels like celebrating.” Bennie reached into the bag and took out the warm white container, small enough to be rice.
“Who would fire you? After you won?”
“Thanks, but let’s not go into it.” Bennie dug her hand in the bag and pulled out the bigger container, which had to be the red curry.
“So you’re not working on the juvenile case?” Lou gestured at the laptop, Xeroxed cases, notes, and empty coffee cups littering the conference table.
“No.” Bennie tried not to think about Jason. She had spent much of the day pressing him to the back of her mind, with varying degrees of success. “I took an age case that came in today. It’s just what the doctor ordered. I get to sue a company that thinks it’s okay to deny 9/11 claims and make middle-aged women feel like crap.”
“God’s work.”
“Right.” Bennie popped the top of the curry, releasing an aromatic blend of Thai spices, then reached in the bag for a plastic fork. “I have a great strategy for this case. It’s reminding me of what a legal genius I am, thus restoring my sagging ego.”
Lou smiled. “What’s the strategy?”
“Our facts are so good that instead of doing the typical bare-bones complaint, I’m writing the most specific complaint in history, but I’m not going to file it.” Bennie took the Styrofoam plate out of the bag, then forked out some rice, making a carbohydrate nest.