Chapter 10.
Language Barrier
“I’m Maddy Young. I’m the new public defender.”
The receptionist eyed me curiously. Like she was trying to tell if I were trying to pull one over on her. Trying to tell if my fingers were crossed behind my back. She was a different receptionist than the last time. She had brown hair. Fifty-ish. Not pretty. Not ugly. She had gigantic breasts—like two little Jupiters—testing the limits of a rose-colored blouse. She said, “Mr. Palace didn’t tell me anything about a new hire.”
I told her that I’d been hired the day before. She didn’t appear to be buying what I was selling. Finally, I said, “Can you just call Mr. Palace?”
She threw me a look of supreme annoyance and picked up the phone. After a moment, she said, “Mr. Palace . . . Hi . . . I have a Maddy Young here . . . Maddy . . . Young . . . That's right. Claims you hired him . . . un-huh . . . un-huh . . . un-huh . . . will do.”
She put the phone down. She shook her head and said, “Mr. Palace says that we don’t hire hardened criminals. Now please leave.”
I took a step backward. Then another. I was turning towards the door when I noticed the receptionist’s face in my peripheral. There was a crack in the dam. I turned just as the dam burst. Her face exploded into a smile and she yelped, “I’m just kidding honey! Mr. Palace put me up to it.”
She was in a fit of laughter. I could see the tops of her boobs jiggling up and down. She’d probably have a bruise on her chin come tomorrow.
A door buzzed.
She waved me through and said, “You can go right through there. He’s expecting you.”
I tried to smile. Tried to laugh. But it was hard with the hummingbird where my heart should be and my stomach in some sort of complicated sailor knot. I walked through the door, trying to shake off the embarrassment. The receptionist was standing there. She pulled me into a hug—the gravitational pull of her two planets sucking my face in like a wayward piece of space jetsam—and said, “Oh, you poor thing. I’m sorry. Really, I am. Oh, you’re shaking.”
I pried my face from her bosom and said, “I’m okay. That was a good one.”
She moved her hands to my waist and said, “I’m Rebecca.”
I stuck out my hand and said, “Nice to meet you.”
She shook my hand, then ushered me down the hall. “Go, go. He’s waiting.”
I started towards JP’s door, smoothing out my shirt as I walked. For the record, I didn’t own anything that would fall into the category of “nice.” Not a single collared shirt. No dress pants. No dress shoes. I hadn’t even thought to go shopping last night after I’d left the jail, but then again I was a bit preoccupied with the whole Isaac being a Born thing. But, more on that later. Anyhow, I was wearing blue jeans and a neatly ironed hooded sweatshirt and freshly polished Converse. Perfect dress for a concert or a skateboard competition, but quite ridiculous when reporting for your first day as a lawyer.
I knocked on the door. By this time, my autonomous nervous system had stopped freaking out. The hummingbird was dead. The knot loose.
JP’s booming southern drawl told me to come in.
I pushed through the door.
JP was sitting behind his desk. But he wasn’t alone. Sitting in the chair opposite was a little girl.
Berlin.
⠔
I wasn’t a half step into the room, when Berlin bolted up from the chair and ran to me. Her hair was in pigtails and she was wearing lime green overalls. She wrapped her hands around me and buried her head into my stomach.
I rubbed her back and said, “I thought you were gonna be mad at me.”
She looked up. Shook her head. Her eyes were the same color as her overalls. I ran my hand over one of her pigtails. I told her I liked them.
She laughed and said, “Thanks.”
Our reunion was cut short when JP boomed, “What in God’s name are you wearing?”
I looked up.
JP was holding his cigar in his right hand. His eyes were wide. Soaking up every inch of my thirteen-year-old skater ensemble.
I unlatched Berlin from me and took a step towards him. “Sorry. I forgot that I don’t own any nice clothes.”
He was shaking his head from side to side. He jammed the cigar back in the crook of his mouth. He rummaged around in a desk drawer for a moment, then extended his hand. He was holding a business card. He said, “This place is a couple miles from here. Guys name is Bernard. Great guy. Doesn’t like the ladies so be careful. Get fitted for three suits. Tell him to charge it to my account.”
I took the card. Thanked him profusely.
He nodded for me to take a seat. I did. Berlin sidled up next to me. I noticed that at some point she had put on a huge purple backpack.
JP said, “Now let’s get down to business.”
He pushed a couple documents in front of me. Told me to sign a couple places. Initial here and here and here. Sign a couple more times. Then he signed some stuff.
I said, “All this stuff just to become a lawyer?”
He looked at me. Then his eyes moved over my shoulder. I glanced at Berlin. She was a statue.
JP laughed and said, “No, all this to become a father.”
⠔
I was officially the legal guardian of Berlin Evangeline Rose.
I should have been mad at Berlin for duping me. I should have been scared shitless about being responsible for another human being when I could barely take care of myself. I was neither. Oddly enough, for the first time since I’d arrived, I was happy.
⠔
I signed paperwork for another five minutes. This round having entirely to do with becoming the newest Denver County Public Defender. When I was finished JP said, “A couple more things.” He reached into his briefcase. He handed me a set of keys and said, “Don’t fuck this up.”
They were the keys to his Jag.