Read Family Counsel (The Samuel Collins Series Book 2) Online
Authors: Debra Trueman
I got to the office Monday morning with the intention of filing
a motion for continuance for Tuesday’s trial, but much to my delight, my
opposing counsel beat me to it.
“Good morning, sir,” Russ greeted me. “Watson’s attorney has
called twice already this morning. He wants to know if you’ll agree to push
the trial back.”
Watson was the plaintiff in a personal injury suit, and I was
representing the defendant, a national garden center.
“Call him back and tell him no,” I said.
“Right away, sir!”
He was already picking up the receiver and dialing when I went
in my office and closed the door. The intercom buzzed 30 seconds later. I
fully expected it to be the attorney calling to grovel, but it was Earl
Jefferson. I punched line 1.
“Earl. What’s up?”
“Mr. Collins, I got to talk to ya. It’s about sumpthin’
different though; it’s not about my case. I gotta see ya right now.”
Since I wouldn’t be in trial the next day, my calendar was
clear. “Sure, Earl. Come on over.”
As soon as I hung up, the intercom buzzed again. “Earl
Jefferson is here. He says he has an appointment,” Russ said
I met him in the reception area. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I called ya from the sidewalk,” Earl explained, as I led him
into the conference room.
“It’s my little girl. Her mama wants to take her away.” He looked so
distraught that I wondered if he was going to cry.
“Take her away where?” I asked.
“Little Rock.”
“Little Rock? Why Little Rock?” I asked.
“Says she’s gonna marry some guy and take my little girl with
her. You got to stop her. You can’t let her take my little girl.” He was looking
me in the eye, pleading for me save his world from collapsing underneath him.
“Is there any question that you’re the child’s father?” I
asked. The look he gave me made me flinch. “I’d be remiss as your attorney if
I didn’t ask,” I said.
“Yes. I’m her Daddy.”
“Your name is on the birth certificate?”
“Uh huh.”
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
“When does she plan on leaving?” I asked.
“By the end of the month.”
“Are there any geographic restrictions in your final divorce
decree?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, I’m going to need a copy of the divorce decree,” I
said. I sat back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling. There was a big
water stain I’d never noticed. “Here’s what we’re going to do,” I told him.
He sat forward in his chair and listened attentively. “First of all, we’re
going to get a temporary restraining order to keep your ex-wife from taking . .
. what’s your daughter’s name?”
“Destiny.” His face brightened when he said it.
I wrote the name down on my pad. “To keep her from taking
Destiny out of state until we can get an injunction. We’ll have a hearing.
And your ex is going to bring up anything negative she can about you. What
kind of relationship do you have with her?”
“Not good. But there ain’t nothin’ negative she gonna have on
me as a father. I been nothin’ but good to my little girl.”
“Then she’ll make up something. It’s not going to be pretty,”
I warned him. I put my pen down and looked at him. “How far are you prepared
to go to keep her from taking your daughter?”
He looked at me vaguely but didn’t answer.
“Would you want custody? If you could get it?
Now he did cry. “I’d give anything,” he said.
I reached back to the credenza, grabbed the box of Kleenex and
handed it to him. He blew his nose and apologized.
“No need,” I assured him. “Then that’s our ultimate goal.”
He looked at me in disbelief and smiled through his tears.
“I’m not saying we can get it. We probably can’t. But we’ll
sure as hell try.” And then a thought occurred to me. “When do you see
Destiny next?”
“Wednesday.”
“Why don’t you two come to dinner at my house?” I wanted to
see them interact. See what a judge or a social worker would see when they
were together.
He seemed surprised by the invitation, but he accepted anyway,
and he left my office in much better spirits than when he’d come in. Russ was
on the phone when I came out.
“Stand by,” he told the caller, and he put him on hold. “It’s
Watson’s attorney. I informed him that we were ready for trial. He says it’s
urgent that he talk to you.”
I couldn’t help smile. “Thanks. I’ll take it in my office.” I
stopped off in the kitchen and got a cup of coffee and a handful of Oreos, then
took my time getting back to my office. When he’d been on hold for almost five
minutes, I punched line 1.
“Samuel Collins.”
“Samuel, it’s Vince Vanelli. I’m filing a motion for
continuance in the Watson matter and wanted to see if you’d consent to filing
it as an agreed motion.”
“Well, I guess I’m going to have to fire my secretary. Because
I specifically told him to call you and tell you that I’m ready for trial.”
“Oh uh . . . well uh . . . no. Someone did call. You have a
male secretary?”
“Let me tell you where I’m coming from, Vance.”
“Vince,” he corrected.
“Right. You sued my client; not the other way around. Now, as
I see it, if you weren’t going to be ready for trial, you never should have
sued in the first place. The truth is, your case sucks. You took a half-dozen
depositions and you still don’t have shit.”
“Well uh . . . that’s uh . . .”
“I’m going to oppose your motion,” I told him.
“Are you willing to talk settlement?” he asked.
I leaned back in my chair. It was a dangerous habit I’d had
for years, but it was too hard to break. My client had authorized me to settle
for $30,000, just to get rid of the case, but I didn’t want to be the one to
bring up settlement. I punched some numbers into the adding machine so Vince
could hear me calculating.
“Five thousand,” I said.
“Five?” he said in disbelief. “We couldn’t accept that.”
“I’m going to impeach every witness you call. Your client’s a
criminal. His friends are all drug dealers and prostitutes.” I thought of
Rafael Mendoza for the first time since we’d made land and remembered I needed
to find him a lawyer. “Did you know that your star witness was just arrested
on child porn charges?”
I heard Vince gulp.
“It’s in today’s paper. Let’s see,” I rummaged around my desk.
“Here it is. Page 3A. Even got his mug in here. Damn he’s ugly.”
“I uh . . . I haven’t seen that.” Vince sounded flustered.
“Fifty thousand,” he countered.
“We might as well go to trial. If they’re going to pay $50,000,
they’d rather pay it in attorney’s fees. Out of principle,” I added. “Seven
and a half. That’s as high as I’m authorized to go.”
“That doesn’t even cover my costs,” he whined.
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you deposed six
people.”
“Thirty-five thousand. That’s as low as I can go. I don’t
even know if my client would take it.”
“Well, I know mine won’t pay it. File your motion and I’ll
file my opposition.”
Vince breathed out heavily. “Let me talk to my client,” he
said in resignation. “I’ll call you back.”
It took less than 30 minutes for Vince Vanelli to get back with
me. He tried to sound upbeat, but I could tell he was nervous.
“We’ll agree to $30,000.”
I made a clucking noise with my tongue like I was considering
his offer. “Nine Thousand. I’m going to say that’s our final offer.”
“Can you go $10,000?” he asked hopefully.
“Nope.”
There was a silent pause. “Nine,” Vince agreed. “But we’ll
need to finalize it by week’s end.”
“I’ll send the settlement documents over tomorrow, and we’ll
have the check to you on Friday. I’ll let you call the court.”
And just like that, my calendar was free for the week, which
was just as well, because I’d be putting in some time on Earl Jefferson’s
custody matter.
In a way, that was my least-favorite type of case to handle. I
shied away from matters involving kids. It was just too hard to distance
myself from the case. Too personal. But I had to help Earl. I’d heard him go
on and on about his little girl and I knew that he lived and breathed for the
kid. It would kill him to have her snatched away.
I took off early on Wednesday and called Maddie to see if she
needed me to pick up anything from the store for our company.
“What company?” she asked. I got a sinking feeling.
“Earl Jefferson and his daughter,” I said, with an unspoken
duh
.
Sometimes when I screw up with my wife, I go on the offensive,
hoping that with all those kids to contend with, she’ll think she screwed up. She
didn’t fall for it for a second. “You never told me anything about that.”
“I did too,” I said, but I wasn’t sure I had.
“
Sam
-uel,” she said.
“I invited Earl Jefferson and his daughter over for dinner tonight.
I need to see them interact – for the custody hearing that’s eventually going
to come about. I could have sworn I’d told you,” I said as convincingly as
possible.
“Maybe you did tell me,” she said tentatively. “Anyway,
there’s plenty of food. I’m doing a roast. But get some kid drinks and maybe
some popsicles or ice cream bars or something.” She raised her voice sharply, “Max! Stop that!” and then she told me, “I have to go.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Uhgh. Oh, Max!” She sighed heavily. “He squirted syrup on
Morgan’s head. I’ve got to go.”
“Hello?” She hung up on me.
* * * *
The thing with Maddie is that she’s not into expensive gifts. Other
than her enormous wedding ring which I’d picked up from Moretti’s, our local
resident jeweler, she’s not that big on diamonds; she’s perfectly happy driving
her mommy van; she’s not into designer clothes. Which is okay, but it makes it
difficult to shop for her. I actually have to put thought into it when I want
to surprise her. On this occasion, I had to drive to find what I was after.
By the time I got home, Earl and his kid were due to arrive in 45 minutes. My
family minus Morgan met me in the driveway.
“Who’s that balloon for?” Oliver asked. “Hey, it’s got candy
tied on the end!”
“It’s for your mom,” I said. “Here, you can give it to her.”
I handed him the balloon and Max climbed into the car. He sat on my lap and
blasted the horn, a daily ritual that would piss me off if I was a neighbor.
“World’s Greatest Mom?” Maddie read the balloon. “Almond Joy? What’s
this for?”
“No reason. Give these to your mom,” I told Max, and my son
climbed down and held out the offering to Maddie.
“Thank you, Max.” She planted a kiss on his cheek and looked at
me, astonished. “I love these! Oh, they’re beautiful. Mexican Hats, and
Indian Blankets, and . . .” She went on to name every damn flower. “Thank
you.” She hugged me tight and I nuzzled my face into her neck. She always
smelled good.
“I’m not positive I actually told you about having company,” I confessed.
Maddie laughed. I love my wife’s laugh. “Whale, you can
forget all you want if I get presents like this out of it.”
“Can we eat your candy bar, Mom?” Oliver asked.
I told him
no
before Maddie could say yes, but before he
could protest, a Prius pulled into the driveway.
“Who’s that?” Oliver asked.
“He’s early,” I told Maddie, in case she thought I’d screwed up
on the time too. I turned to Oliver. “It’s the tall guy from my office and
his daughter. You guys can play together. They’re eating with us.”
The four of us walked out to greet our guests as Earl un-wedged
himself from behind the wheel. I was amazed he could actually fit in the car.
He inclined his head toward the Prius.
“I got my sister’s car for a while,” he said. “She needs my truck.”
Earl was beaming, obviously proud to be introducing his daughter. “This here’s
my little girl, Destiny.”
She had her Daddy’s gray eyes, but that was where the
similarity ended. She was a tiny little thing, with braids sticking out all
over her head and a little red bow on the end of each braid that matched her
red dress and red socks. She carried a hideous looking doll that looked like a
female Chucky, a Barbie lunch box, and a ratty old blanket that was ripped at
one end and frayed at the other.
“I know how to skip,” she informed Oliver.
Oliver turned to Max. “She can skip!”
My number two son wasn’t as enthusiastic about the skipping; he
was enthralled instead with her hair. He reached over and touched one of the
braids, then he pulled off a bow and stuck it in his mouth before Destiny could
get it back.
Destiny sat on Earl’s lap, slurping a juice box while we waited
for the potatoes to cook. She was as chatty as one of my kids; not the least
bit shy, but not wanting to leave her dad’s side either. After some time, she
invited Oliver and Max to join her on Earl’s lap, and while there was plenty of
room for all three of them, I felt like the hostly thing to do was to intervene
on his behalf. Maddie beat me to it.
“Why don’t you show Destiny the game room?” she suggested, and
with a little coaxing from her father, Destiny followed my boys back to the
kid’s wing. Earl’s face turned serious as soon as she was out of the room.
“She was there by herself when I got there today,” he said
angrily.
“What?” Maddie and I exclaimed in unison.
“Home alone,” Earl said. “You know. They done made a movie
about it.”
“But she’s only three years old!” Maddie exclaimed. “Where was
her mother?”
“Done went to the store.” He pronounced it
stow
. “Left
her there by herself asleep.”
I was pissed, but I tried to keep my cool. It wasn’t my place
to call his ex-wife names. Maddie, on the other hand, had no bones about
letting her feelings be known.
“Whale, she’s an unfit mother. That’s horrible. That’s,
that’s . . . that’s criminal! What if that little girl had awakened, all by
herself? Why, she’d be scared to death, bless her heart.”
“She did,” Earl said. “She was awake when I got there. And
when her mama came back, she acted like it ain’t no big deal, leavin’ my baby
girl there all alone. Said she dunnit before and ain’t no harm come from it.”
“There are laws against that,” I said, sounding very pompous.
“You can’t leave a 3-year-old at home by herself. What if the house caught
fire?” I decided that tact is highly over-rated. “Your ex-wife is an imbecile!”
When Earl didn’t argue, I continued. “We’ll definitely use this to our
advantage. If we can prove she’s an unfit mother, you’d stand a good chance of
gaining custody.”
After my outburst, things were quiet. Too quiet. I decided I
better check on the kids. I could hear Oliver and Destiny talking before I
reached the door.
“It tastes the same,” Oliver said.
“Yeah,” Destiny agreed.
We don’t keep food in the game room. I thought back to Max
almost eating the cat turd, but when I walked in the door, I discovered that
they weren’t eating. Oliver and Destiny were sitting cross-legged facing each
other, licking each other’s arm.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
They hadn’t seen me come in, but neither seemed fazed by my
entrance. Oliver offered me Destiny’s arm.
“Taste this,” he said. He licked his own arm then licked
Destiny’s again. “They taste the same!” he declared.
“I’ll pass,” I said. “Keep your tongues in your mouths,” I
told them, then I clarified, “Your own mouths.” I told it like it was when I
got to the kitchen. “They were tasting each other’s arms,” I said, and Earl
and Maddie laughed.
Earl and I drank a beer while Maddie put together a salad, and we
talked more about both of his cases, when sounds from the baby monitor
interrupted us. It started in whispers.
“That’s Morgan,” Oliver said quietly. “She’s our baby sister.”
“Can I touch her?” Destiny whispered back.
“Yeah, but not on her hands.” He sounded just like Maddie.
It got quiet again, then the monitor filled with static.
Someone had turned it off. Maddie and I exchanged a look.
“Not good,” I said, and we both took off for the kid’s wing
with Earl following.
“We won’t put it on her hands,” Oliver was saying, but before
we got to the nursery, Max stepped into the hall.
Maddie gasped and instinctively stepped backwards. I ran right
into her and Earl almost fell over the top of me. The little picture from
Earl’s toothpaste tube popped into my head. All I could see of my son’s face
were the whites of his eyes and his white teeth.
“What did you do!” Maddie exclaimed. She picked up Max and we
turned into the nursery where there was more light. “What in the world?!”
My boys were covered in black marker, or at least I assumed that’s
what it was. And they were going to work on Morgan.
Maddie yelled, “Noooooo!”
Oliver stopped mid-mark and turned around. It was hard to tell
if he felt guilt or remorse because he looked so ridiculous. There was a small
circle of white around each eye and it gave him a look of perpetual surprise.
“Don’t draw on your sister!” Maddie said, and she turned back
to me and whispered, “Get the camera.”
I think Earl was too shocked to say anything. My kids’ antics
had rendered him speechless. As I ran for the camera, I could hear Maddie
telling Earl, “Don’t worry; they’re washable.” I assumed she meant the
markers.
When I got back, Oliver was explaining, “We want to be like
Destiny,” he pouted.
Dinner was delayed for the next half-hour while Maddie and I
bathed kids, and when we were done, the only evidence of the fiasco was the big
black ring around the tub. By the end of the night, I’d seen enough of Earl
and his daughter to know that the two had a strong bond and a loving
relationship. Clearly, there was an attachment on the child’s part, and I was
confident that we could make the case that Earl’s removal from Destiny’s life
would be detrimental to the child. He had been in the girl’s life since she
was born, and according to what Earl reported, he was one of the few constants
in her life.
They stayed until almost 8:00 and when they left, I felt a
little guilty for taking up Earl’s night with his daughter – like he’d missed
out on some of his precious time with her. I’d just have to make damn sure
that we prevailed in his case, so it wouldn’t be an issue.