Chapter 21

Monday,one week later

   Dear Drew:

Today marks a week since it happened, and I appreciate the shoulder. The first couple of nights were hell. I don’t think I had an idea how much this man had become a part of me. I went around the house and de-Evanderized it the day after the incident, and I thought doing that would make me feel better. I took a long ride in the country to clear my head and even wrote him a letter just to get the feelings out and never sent it to him. But none of that really helped.

I know I never told you what it was he actually said, but I haven’t told Jacqui either. One thing he said to this person on the phone is that I offered to give him a few dollars, when in actuality I offered to loan him the money. This is something I could never tell Jac, because she is so jaded about love and men. Yes, I feel foolish now looking back, but I guess for a moment I thought if I did loan him the money, it would bring back the old Evander. I felt if he was happy career-wise I could stop waiting, as your poem says, Until . . .

I called a friend who works in the state’s attorney’s offices and they picked Evander up Friday from his job. My friend told me the officer called him and said Evander was crying like a baby in front of all the customers. I don’t know why that didn’t bring me joy, but it didn’t. Then my friend told me that he doubted they could keep him in jail very long with the fraud charge, although he had priors I was not aware of. So he will be out to do what he did to me to someone else, more than likely tomorrow.

And then last night his mother calls me. She actually called the day after the incident and I never returned the call. When I saw her name on the Caller ID box I almost didn’t answer the phone. But just before the answering machine picked up I grabbed it. Mrs. Jones was nice to me, so in spite of her son. I thought I at least owed her the benefit of allowing her to tell me what was on her mind.

She didn’t do what I expected, which was to ask me to drop the charge. She just told me she was sorry for what happened. She adores her son and I guess he is a good son to her, and she told me more about his history with women. She said that if she had any idea he would pull the same scam on me, she would have told me. But she said she watched us together in Orlando and when she saw us kissing on her front porch she thought I could be the one that would allow him to heal some of the pain from the past.

Oh well, I did not mean to be so long-winded and I thank you for being there. It’s almost 6:00 A.M. and I have an appointment to meet with a gentleman about employment at 9:00. As I mentioned, of the three I spoke to in brief last week, I enjoyed the conversation with his company the most, and I think if today’s meeting goes well, I may decide to work with them. Say a prayer for me.

Until . . .

Betty

Betty looked at her watch and was happy to see that, just as planned, she was ten minutes early for her scheduled interview with Latrobe & Fitzgerald. As she sat with the latest edition of Time in her lap, she wanted to look at the small things she could not determine in her research of the firm. What time the partners arrived, how the attorneys interacted with the clerical staff, and whether the firm was any more integrated than the one from which she had just resigned.

After talking to other attorneys, her decision to work with Latrobe & Fitzgerald was an easy one. They were an up-and-coming firm, and although they did not have the national presence of Murphy, Renfro and Collins, they were well respected in the state. She could ask for and likely receive a larger compensation package with firms in major cities such as Atlanta, but since she had just purchased a home, such a move was not practical.

Betty noticed the decor was not as opulent as Murphy, Renfro and Collins. There were no silver tea sets in the reception area, no aroma of potpourri in the air, and the firm was on the second floor in one of the less prestigious areas of town. But as she waited to speak to the senior partner, it did not matter to her. Of the three firms she had seen, this was the only one to indicate that not only would they give her a partnership within six months, they were willing to commit to doing so in writing, according to the managing partner, Charles Fitzgerald. He had advised Betty that only a meeting with the senior partner, Benjamin Latrobe, stood between her and a new beginning with Latrobe & Fitzgerald.

As she sat thumbing through the magazine, she thought about DLastRomeo and how tempted she was to casually drive by his office just to see if this man looked anything like she imagined in her mind. But she could not, for fear that seeing him would in some way ruin the relationship she had with the friend she so badly needed in her life.

Moments after Betty declined a cup of tea from the office receptionist, the senior partner walked into the waiting area. “Benjamin Latrobe,” he said by way of introduction. “And you must be Betty Robinson.”

“Good morning,” she said as they shook hands, and then she reached down for her attaché case.

“Right this way, Ms. Robinson.” As they walked down the corridor he said, “So sorry I’m late. It was one of those mornings.”

“No problem,” she said as she glanced into each of the opened offices they passed.

“Well, actually it is a problem. I’m a real stickler for promptness and here I go getting off on the wrong foot in our first interview.”

They entered Mr. Latrobe’s office and Betty was surprised to see it was twice the size of Jack Murphy’s, decorated in redwood with classical music playing softly in the background. “May I get you a cappuccino?” he asked.

“Thanks,” she said, “but no, thank you.”

“Are you sure? We also have Jamaican Blue Mountain and tea.”

“I’m sure,” she said as she sat in front of his desk. “But I appreciate it.” As he sat behind his desk Betty said, “Mr. Latrobe, there’s a question I have been dying to ask. Are you related to the famous nineteenth-century architect, Benjamin Latrobe?”

Latrobe looked at her with surprise. “How did you know that name?”

Betty smiled. Her research had paid off. “I was just curious. I remember his work from a class I took in college, and since you are from the Northeast, I thought there might be a connection.”

Laughing, he said loudly, “You’re hired!” And then as his chuckles decreased he added, “You know, you are the first person to mention his name to me since I’ve been down here, and we’ve lived in Florida for going on forty years.”

“Well, he did great work. You should be very proud.”

“We are,” he said, looking at Betty a little differently. “We are indeed.” And then his eyebrows settled as he said, “Ms. Robinson, I’ve talked extensively to Mr. Fitzgerald about bringing you into the firm. I must say he is very enthusiastic about adding you, but I will be very up front with you. We are not in the practice of bringing in associates with the promise of guaranteeing in writing they will be a partner. Actually you would be the first.” He paused to look again at Betty’s résumé and smiled. “But I will hasten to add that rarely have we had the opportunity to bring in an attorney at your age with these credentials.”

“Thank you.”

Betty quietly watched as he once again reviewed her career on paper. He placed the lone piece of paper in the center of his immense desk and removed his gold-framed glasses. “Ms. Robinson, I will be candid with you if you don’t mind.”

“By all means.”

“I was a good friend of Jack Murphy’s. Although I did not know you, I had heard him mention a hotshot new attorney. I know the caliber of attorneys Jack attracted, so there is no doubt in my mind that if you were to join us, you could pick up the ball immediately and run with it. I must also say I spoke to Mr. Collins and Renfro. Collins was a little on the fence about you in some aspects, which I can understand. If I had invested six or seven years in an attorney only for her to practice elsewhere, I might not give her a ringing endorsement either. But let’s face facts. Renfro, as you can imagine, was not on the fence at all. Now, I know Franklin. I have had him and both his former and new wife over to the house. He has his ways, and I have an idea of how it might have been for you to work with him. But I need to talk to you about that case. I know you are not at liberty to go into detail at this juncture, but I need to know more about why you resigned.”

Betty did not answer immediately as the right response formed in her mind. And then as the senior partner leaned forward on his elbows she said, “First of all, Mr. Latrobe, I appreciate the fact that you would put this issue on the table. The sole reason I joined the firm was because of Jack Murphy. It was not because of money. It was not because of the prestige. It was because Jack was simply the lawyer I wanted to become. He spoke to our law school once,” Betty continued, “about a case where he defended this lady and she needed what little money he won so badly he refused to subtract his fee. So instead she paid him in—”

“Campbell’s soup,” both attorneys said together.

“Once I was there when she brought him his lunch,” Mr. Latrobe said. “I think she did that every Wednesday until she died, even though Jack told her to stop.”

“That’s the attorney I aspired to be. I know making money for the firm is important. Don’t get me wrong. But so is fighting for people who have been wronged.”

Silence swelled and was broken as Mr. Latrobe said, “I can appreciate that, Ms. Robinson. But looking at your résumé, I noticed you also logged some serious pro bono hours.”

“Yes I did, sir. When I was in college and the president of the Black Law Students Association, one of the things I preached to them was about never forgetting the small people who sometimes could not afford justice. People like a lady I defended earlier this year by the name of Consuela Lopez.”

“I’m familiar with Mrs. Lopez,” he said, and leaned back in his chair. “If the truth be known, I think she visited our firm for representation and we just did not have the resources to take the case. I read that Midway has decided not to appeal the verdict.”

“Correct, sir. Here is a woman whom no one in our firm wanted to touch because of the particular situation surrounding the accident. But she deserved a voice, and I am very proud of the fact that her voice was heard.”

“But our number one obligation, Ms. Robinson, is returning a profit to our partners. While that may sound boorish on the surface, it’s reality. Once that is done, then we can do all of the other wonderful things to correct the ills of the world. I am not against pro bono work. I know we are all obligated to doing some of it. And yes, I, too, feel an obligation to give fair representation to all. We all do. But I can assure you when Jack started that firm he would not allow an associate to log this many hours. It’s just not feasible, especially in today’s economic climate.”

Betty remained silent as the wheels spun in her head.

“Having said that, Ms. Robinson, I must tell you there is nothing that I can foresee which would prohibit our scheduling a time on Thursday to look at numbers. I already knew you would be an asset before we met this morning. And I have no problem with guaranteeing your partnership with a few minor stipulations regarding billable hours, et cetera. But I think if the numbers are in the ballpark, we can put together a compensation package for the partners to vote on Friday,” he said, with a smile returning to his voice. “If all works out, we can have you become a part of our team on Monday morning.”

Betty lowered her head thoughtfully and noticed she was still holding her keys. She saw that one of Evander’s keys was still on the circular ring. Staring at the key, Betty said just above a whisper, “You know, sir, the day I drove to court for the verdict on that Lopez case I was scared to death. I could hardly sleep the night before. I knew no one expected me to pull it off.” She returned her eyes to Mr. Latrobe as her voice gained confidence. “But I did. I won that case, and for one moment, the system worked. I know that sounds Pollyannish, but it made me proud. And it made me even happier to see Jack’s face after I won. But you know something? After that case, all of my joy left. All aspects of my life were exactly where I wanted them to be, yet I could barely smile. I was not excited about my career as a litigator. But you know,” she said, leaning back into the burgundy leather and rubbing her finger over the serrated edge of Evander’s house key, “I’m excited now. I really am. Not because I’m joining you here at Latrobe & Fitzgerald. Because sitting here today . . . while talking to you . . . I’ve decided to establish my own firm.”

As his smile disappeared Mr. Latrobe said, “Are you serious?”

Betty nodded her head. “Actually, Mr. Latrobe, I don’t think I’ve ever been more serious in my life. I mean this is why I could not enjoy my success before. Because I knew I would have to put up with the normal office politics. I understand, but I didn’t become an attorney to return a profit to the partners. And the only way I can avoid it would be to start my own firm.”

“Ms. Robinson, may I ask you a simple question?” Benjamin Latrobe put on his glasses and leaned back in his chair. “How will you start a firm? I know you are an extremely bright woman, but are you aware of how difficult it is on this side of the desk?”

Looking him in the eye, she said, “I have no idea, sir. I have no idea how I will put this together and once again I’m scared to death. But for the first time I’m in control, and I think the risk is worth the reward.”

Several minutes later Mr. Latrobe and Betty emerged from his office laughing and were greeted by Charles Fitzgerald. “Good Morning, Benny. Good Morning, Ms. Robinson. Sounds like you guys had a great meeting.”

“Good morning,” they both said as the laughter died away.

“So are we at a point were we can present something to the partners? This lady’s not going to break us, is she, Benny?”

Betty smiled and looked at Mr. Latrobe as he said, “Well, Chuck, we’ll talk.” And then he looked at Betty and said, as they shook hands, “Betty, I think you are a fine woman. I was impressed after talking to Chuck about you, but even more so today. You’ve got guts. Most people are afraid to do what you are about to do. I can’t tell you how many associates I have who I know would do well on their own. But they lack courage and that’s why most people settle for mediocrity in life, because they’re afraid to take a chance. I started this firm with Chuck thirty years ago, and no one thought we could do it. But you’ve got what my grandmother in Tennessee called gumption. You’ll do fine, and if you ever need me . . . you have my personal number. Call me.”

“Thanks, Ben,” she said, and then shook Mr. Fitzgerald’s hand. “Thank you, too, sir. It was a pleasure.”

“A what?” Mr. Fitzgerald said as he looked back at Mr. Latrobe. “What do you mean, what she’s about to do?”

“Chuck, we’ll talk. Betty, good luck,” he said as Betty turned to walk away.

As she passed a trash can she tossed Evander’s key into it as she heard Mr. Fitzgerald say, “But I thought it was a go. What happened?”

Betty sat in her home office in front of her computer making notes on her yellow legal pad. From the funds she had in her 401K investment portfolio and personal retirement, she could start her firm without the necessity of going further into debt. She had put together a list of fifty potential clients she had worked with or met while at Murphy, Renfro and Collins, and she had called her friend Agnes Murphy for sage advice. Everything looked so good as she glanced at the numbers on the pad she wondered aloud, “Why didn’t I do this years ago?”

The phone rang, and as she blindly placed her hand on the receiver she looked at her Caller ID box and noticed the call’s origination. Alachua County Corrections. As the phone rang for the second time Betty took her hand from the receiver. So much was happening that she did not want to revisit the event of the previous week. The phone rang for the third time as she stood and walked away, but on the fourth ring she lunged for it and answered. She was going to be strong and face her fear this time.

“Hello,” she said with no emotion in her voice.

“Betty, thanks for answering. I know you know it’s me, so please don’t hang up.” Betty remained quiet as he said, “This is my last quarter to make a phone call. I tried to call you at work today, but that bitch Carol lied and said you don’t work there no more. Betty? Beep? I know I was wrong. I’ve thought about nothing else all weekend. I’m not calling you to forgive me, because I know it’s too soon for that And I know I don’t deserve that I just wanted to call to say . . .” And then he lowered his voice. “I love you. Beep? You there?”

Betty refused to give him the satisfaction of saying a word.

“You’ve got to believe me, baby. You even heard me tell Martin that when I was on the phone that night.”

Quietly Betty said, “You said you had feelings, Evander. That we were just kicking it.”

“Beep, it’s the same thing. Men don’t go around telling other men they’re in love! Understand?” Betty held her tongue as he raised his voice. “Betty? Beep? Like I said, I know I was wrong. Looking back, I can see that now. But today I spoke to the PD’s office because I couldn’t afford an attorney. They sent this kid here who must be no more than twenty years old. His name is Karl. Karl Guillaume. But everyone in here calls him Karl Guilty because he never wins a case. Beep, I know I was wrong. I admit that, but I need a fair shake in court too. Just like anyone else. Betty? Are you there? Betty,” he said after a pause, “I know you have friends in the court system and I know you can get me out of this mess. If you want me out of your life, although I think we can get over this, I’ll leave. I made a mistake. Have you ever made a mistake? Honestly, Beep. I’ll even pay you back the money on the gas card.”

Betty closed her eyes and whispered, “What gas card?”

“Anyway, Betty . . . Beep, this is no place for me. You know I’ve never been in a place like this before. I mean I’ve been charged, but I was never booked. About an hour ago, Betty”—he paused as she heard tears thicken in his throat—“two or three guys came after me in the shower. They wanted to—”

“Two or three guys? You don’t remember how many?”

“Okay, dammit! It was one, Beep. But damn, the brother was huge and he tried to take advantage of me. Someone tossed me this sawed-off mop handle and I hit him. Actually, I knocked the shit out of him, and they tell me as soon as the paperwork goes through, I’ll be in lockdown. The only way I’m making this call is because a friend of mine works here. Betty, I know I was wrong, but you can’t let them send me away for this. Beep, please!”

Betty leaned back in her chair and said softly, “Evander? Let me get this straight, because I want to be fair to you. You may not believe it, but I really do. You deserve that much because I know deep inside you’re a sincere person. But what you did hurt me more than anything I can ever remember. So let me repeat what I believe you are saying. Okay?” Betty paused, remembering the time when she’d asked him in her bedroom, “Evander? Will it always be this good?”

“Okay here goes,” she said. “You violated me, right?”

“Well, Beep, I wouldn’t call it . . . well, yeah, I guess . . . yeah, I was wrong.”

“Okay. And now you want me to get you out of jail for something you did to me?”

“Baby, please. See, actually, I found out they couldn’t hold me on the first charge, but they can send me away for a criminal assault charge.”

“I see.”

“Betty? Please don’t make a decision now. I know you are a fair person and I know you are not vindictive. I know you are bigger than that. But please, baby, just think about it overnight. What I did was wrong and I’m prepared for the consequences, whatever they may be.”

“Evander, as long as I’ve known you, I’ve known the very gentlemanly, kind side of you. And God only knows there are too many black men in jail today. But do you realize that in this entire conversation you have not once said the words . . . ‘I’m sorry’?”

“Beep, I did. I said it when you picked up the phone. I’m sorry. See? I’ll say it again. I’m sorry and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.”

Softly Betty said, “When I sat in my car that night I tried to blame myself for what happened. I kept asking myself over and over again, what did I do wrong. Why couldn’t I make you happy?” And then with a pause to gather her composure she said, “I tried to tell myself that it had to be fifty-fifty. That it took two to tango. But that night was the first night I could understand how abused women might feel. Monday night was the first night I truly understood how those women felt in the class action suit. When someone takes something away from you that even money could never replace. I also understood something my foster mother told me years ago. Sometimes in order to live, a little bit of you must die. That never made any sense to me . . . until that night. A part of me died on the floor of that room, Evander. But somehow I know it has made me stronger. It gave me the strength to make other changes in my life. So as I sat in my car thinking about you and all the good times we had . . . about the first time you sent me flowers and when you gave me the keys to your house . . . when I sat there thinking about the trip to Orlando, all I wanted to hear from you was an apology. All I wanted was for you to say, I’m sorry.”

“Betty,” he said contritely. “Again, baby, I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Betty smiled sadly and said, “You know, Vander? I thought that would make me feel better. I guess once again I was wrong about you. Good night.”