The She-Hulk Diaries (26 page)

I cleared my throat and the woman’s eyes opened. “Hello, Mrs. Bertoli. I’m Jennifer Walters from Quintal, Ulrich, Iverson, Ride, and Cooper. We spoke this week.”

“Ms. Walters,” she said. “Nice of you to come. Mavy, wake up.”

The little girl’s eyelids fluttered open. Her dark brown eyes looked too big in the tiny face, but I saw a spark of interest when she noticed me.

“Hello, Mavis, I’m Jenny,” I said, using my childhood nickname.

“You’re so tall, like a giant!” she said, and her mother said, “Mavy!”

“That’s all right,” I said. “Mavis, you’re right. I’m very tall. If you need something off a top shelf, just say so. I can’t climb a beanpole, though, because I’m afraid of heights. Don’t tell anyone, because it’s a secret.”

When Mavis giggled, her narrow chest shuddered, and she coughed.

I said, “How are you feeling?”

She looked at me hopefully and said, “I want to go outside and play.”

I saw Mrs. Bertoli’s panicked expression and said, “Mavis, it’s sooo cold outside that my teeth chattered so hard I thought they would break into a million pieces.” The girl laughed, and I added, “I’m a lawyer, Mavis. That means that I’m telling your story to a judge. I’m going to try to stop the people who gave you the bad heart, so they don’t hurt any more children.”

“Then can I play outside?”

I glanced at Mrs. Bertoli, who shook her head, and I said, “You’ll have to ask your doctor. But I’ll do whatever I can do to help you.”

Mavis turned her head to the windows and looked out at the stormy day. She said, “That’s what
everyone
says. All I want to do is go outside again.”

“Mavis, I need to talk to your mom for a minute.”

“Will you come back, Jenny?” she asked.

“Yes, sweetie, I’ll come back and visit when I can. Is there anything you’d like?”

“I like story time. You can come and help read with Mr. Biggie. Then we play make-believe.” Her eyes brightened for a moment, and she said, “I live in a castle. There’s a magician and a big moat and a dragon that breathes fire! Mr. Biggie is a giant even bigger than you. He can be your giant husband!”

“How exciting! We can have giant babies and put them in giant cribs made from giant tree logs. I love stories with castles and dragons. You can tell me all about it at story time.”

Mrs. Bertoli and I went into the hallway. She was probably close to my age, but her hair had gone gray and she had purple bags under her eyes.

“Mrs. Bertoli, I’d like to do a videotaped interview with Mavis for the trial. I’ll keep it brief, because I don’t want to wear her out.”

“She’d like the company,” Mrs. Bertoli said. “She gets bored staying in bed day after day.”

“My paralegal, Donner Hightower, will schedule it. Can you tell me anything more about her situation?”

Mrs. Bertoli repeated the report: Mavis had had an operation to correct a minor congenital heart defect. In the hospital, she caught an infection that damaged her heart. ReplaceMax heard about her case and thought she’d be a perfect candidate for one of their cloned organs. They told the Bertoli family that Mavis would not have to endure any tissue rejection and promised her a happy childhood.

I asked if Mavis was eligible for another transplant, and Mrs. Bertoli told me that she wasn’t strong enough to survive the operation.

Mrs. Bertoli said, “When she first got the ReplaceMax organ, it was like a miracle. She became healthy within a week, but it didn’t last. It was a dirty trick giving us hope.”

“Mrs. Bertoli, why haven’t you retained a law firm to sue ReplaceMax? I’m sure that QUIRC could take on your case.”

She shook her head. “Ms. Walters, my husband had a breakdown and left us. My parents passed away. I’ve lost my job and can’t pay my rent. Those things don’t seem to matter because all I can think of is my baby. I get through each day for her, and when this is over, I’m going to leave the country, find somewhere warm where no one knows me, and try to go on. Fighting a court case, what good will it do me? Money won’t save my Mavy.”

My throat constricted and I nodded my head. “If you change your mind, please talk to me.”

Mrs. Bertoli gripped my arm and looked me in the eye. “I don’t want their money, but I want them to suffer, Ms. Walters. Make them suffer for what they’ve done to my baby. Make those bastards pay.”

I asked if she’d considered applying for a suspended animation slot.

She gave me a look that could have fried bacon and said, “That’s living death. Not for my child.”

Re: living death, I wished I could have been in suspended animation for the fifty minutes at lunchtime that I had to spend with Dr. Rene Alvarado.

He gave me a tofu-and-edamame-eating smile and said, “Jennifer, I’m glad you found the time to resume your mental health treatments.”

“It’s Ms. Walters, Rene.”

“Dr. Alvarado,” he said.

“You see how annoying it is when someone purposely uses a more casual address to diminish status in a relationship,” I answered with a fake smile.

“It interests me that you consistently describe yourself as shy, yet you’re always combative in our sessions.”

“This is a meeting that serves no purpose,” I said, and then he said blah blah blah, and I said “My life is excellent,” and he said blah blah blah, and I looked at the time and said I had to attend to something important.

“Jennifer—
Ms.
Walters,” he said, irked. “Your mental health is important, and you can’t begin to resolve your rage issues and your bifurcated personality disorder until you first acknowledge that there is a problem.”

“Rene—Dr. Alvarado, if I had half an hour to examine your life and your business, I would discover innumerable legal problems that I’d believe were urgent. If you met my salon-owning friend, she would tell you that you need critical hairstyle intervention, stat!” I was happy to see his hand go to his messy wavy mop. “The point is that everyone sees the need for his or her service. As I advise my clients, ‘When you are offered an unsolicited service, ask yourself whether you would have ever sought the service on your own, and if it has any demonstrable positive outcomes.’ ”

I stood up. “There will be no charge for my legal advice, Dr. Alvarado.”

“I didn’t ask for your legal advice, Ms. Walters.”

“Exactly. I’ll call you to schedule an appointment when my calendar opens up.”

As I was leaving, I heard him saying, “I’ll have to report this to the Avengers Council!”

Got home so late that I ate yogurt and filled the whirlpool bath. As I sunk into the hot water, I thought about Sven and how stunning and elegant he is. Dahlia called while I was pumicing my heels.

So I did, and afterward instead of screaming “OMG! amazing!” she said, “Hmmm.”

Dahlia hmmmed again.

We bickered a little longer before she had to get ready for her date with someone she called a “musician slash performance artist slash pretentious pretty boy.” I asked why she kept dating these guys, and she said, “He’s very pretty
and
I plan to do a lot more than admire him with big moo cow eyes. Besides, you know I don’t want a guy who interferes with my work, and these guys conveniently evaporate with the morning dew.”

We said good-bye, and I was glad I could just baste in the water.

Dahlia is wrong. My feelings for Sven are developing at a mature Cary Grant/Kate Hepburn pace.

I slumped deeper into the tub, which was big enough for me to stretch my legs, and remembered Fringe Theory’s “Love/EVOLution”:

Slept in until 7:30 and made it to my 8:00 a.m. class with Azzan. Afterward, I went to five different Joocey Jooces and gave each of the clerks a clean thermos.

They all said the same thing: “It costs more if you bring your own container.”

I told them I was saving them money by providing my own container, and they said that they believed in spreading the PLAY NICE! logo.

Then all of the clerks offered—with a big smile—to pay the difference themselves. Which was too nice, so I paid the extra charge and left big tips.

I took the thermoses to the Mansion and was happy to discover that Ruth was there. “Ruth, what are you doing here on a Saturday?”

“Catching up on things, Jen. Don’t worry, I’m taking Monday off. It’s so great to see you! What do you have there?”

“They’re fruit smoothies from Joocey Jooce, but something may be in them.”

“Their smoothies are so terrific!” She opened one and smelled it. “Yum, raspberry. Sure, I’ll have these checked by the lab. Any rush?”

“Within the week is fine. Thanks, Ruth.”

“I’m glad that Shulky was able to handle the last situation,” Ruth said. “We only got a few bills for the destruction of the front door and for the hole in the wall. She’s becoming so OMG! diplomatic.”

“She kind of is, isn’t she?” I said. “You might want to mention that to Dr. Alvarado.”

“Or you can, since you’ll be seeing him soon,” Ruth said. “I hope you don’t mind, but he called yesterday and I scheduled an appointment. It’s on your calendar for next Saturday morning right after Krav Maga.”

“I’m very busy, Ruth…” I began, trying to think of a good excuse.

“Lots of doctors and psychiatrists have private entrances for confidentiality with patients. You can ask Dr. Alvarado if he knows of anyone giving up a place.”

Instead of saying that I didn’t want to live in a commune or an ashram, I thanked her. I’ll cancel the session later.

Drat. Ruth called and said that the Joocey Jooce samples don’t show any traces of drugs or chemicals.

I advise my clients, “If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, you can make a preliminary determination that it may be a duck, but it’s best to have an unbiased second opinion.”

I called Amy Stewart-Lee. She only spent a few minutes catching me up on the latest cases at the DA’s office before she told me that she was seeing Nelson again. She praised Nelson’s kindness, his intelligence, and sweetness, and how he treated her like a lady. Then she asked me how I met him.