“We’re assigning Linda Freeman to the account. The partners feel Mrs. Reed does better when she can communicate her needs to a woman.”
Not Libby. Linda.
Again she swallowed the taste of disappointment.
“But—”
Hershel held up a hand, stopping her. “I know; she’d left the firm and you had every right, but it irritated the others.” He left the words hanging, leaving her to speculate.
Libby had a good idea what he was telling her. Basically her chances of being asked to return to the firm had been dashed because she’d taken the initiative and contacted the elderly woman on her own. A sickening feeling tightened her stomach.
Hershel’s eyes held hers. “I tried,” he admitted.
Libby nodded, letting him know she understood. Managing a weak smile, she whispered, “Congratulations. I think Linda will do a great job.”
Hershel smiled back encouragingly. “Starting your own practice is a big challenge, Libby. I don’t doubt that you’ll make it a success.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re a good attorney.”
Libby looped the purse strap over her shoulder. “My best to the other partners,” Libby murmured.
By the time Libby was outside the Four Seasons she felt like kicking something. It was apparent that Sarah, the paralegal she had once considered a good friend, had been more than willing to relay information to one or more of the partners. No wonder Libby hadn’t heard from her.
When she checked her messages later that afternoon, Libby saw that she had a missed call from Martha Reed. She phoned back right away.
“I’m so sorry to disappoint you, my dear,” the dignified woman apologized. “I talked over the decision with my children. They all know how much I’ve enjoyed working with you. However, they’re concerned, as I am, that you don’t have the backing of a larger firm.”
“I understand,” Libby said, although it was difficult to hide her feelings.
“And then several of the partners and Hershel came to the house and made their plea.”
“What made you decide to go back to the firm?” Libby asked, curiosity getting the best of her. She couldn’t imagine what the partners could have promised. Mrs. Reed had been adamant that she was ready to move on. The firm had already failed her twice.
“Frankly, they made me a very attractive offer.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, and really, they made it impossible to refuse. They agreed to cap my fees.”
Libby had guessed that the incentive must have been something along those lines. Considering the money Mrs. Reed brought into the firm, the partners must have been desperate not to lose her. Losing clients was never good, especially influential ones like Mrs. Reed.
“I do wish you the very best, my dear,” the charming lady told Libby.
“I know you do. And if you ever feel that you want my legal advice please feel free to contact me.” Libby enjoyed Mrs. Reed and would do anything she could to help her.
Right away she called Phillip, but his cell went straight to voice mail. Thankfully Robin was available. She met her at the Starbucks closest to the courthouse. They each ordered a skinny vanilla latte and sat in the corner with their heads together.
Robin listened intently as Libby relayed the events of the afternoon.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Her friend was outraged on Libby’s behalf when she told of the meeting with Hershel and what she’d learned about Sarah. “I hardly know what to say.”
“I thought of her as a friend.” Libby remained stunned. “Sarah’s the only one who knew I intended to speak to Mrs. Reed. It had to have been her.”
All Robin could do was shake her head.
Libby was tired of all this. It’d been a busy week. It seemed like more had happened in this one week than in the last five months combined.
“How are you?” Libby asked her friend. Her true friend. She knew it’d been difficult for Robin to return to work, especially when it meant seeing Roy Bollinger every day. Only later did Robin tell her about Roy’s visit to the condo the day she’d phoned in to work sick.
“I’m okay,” Robin said without meeting Libby’s eyes.
Libby cocked her brow, unsure she should believe her.
Robin lowered her voice. “I saw Roy at the office.”
“Did you speak?”
Robin shook her head. Her eyes softened as she spoke. “But I wish we had.”
“Oh, Robin.”
“It’s better this way. I just never believed he’d be interested in me and now that he is …” She left the rest unsaid.
“Just remember what you’ve told me all through this long period of unemployment.”
“What?”
“That eventually everything will right itself.”
“I said that?”
Libby grinned. “Any number of times.”
Robin smiled, too. “I didn’t know I could sound so wise.”
But she was wise, wonderfully so, and Libby treasured her.
Chapter 28
Libby sat in her small office and arranged her desktop. Everything was neat and orderly, just the way she liked it. She’d already gotten two business calls. One she’d rejected outright. It was from a friend of a friend who was looking for an attorney to get him out of a speeding ticket—his third that year. Libby happily referred him to another attorney.
The second call showed promise. The referral had come from Abby Higginbotham at Seattle General. Libby made an appointment to visit the couple the following afternoon to talk about estate planning and setting up a trust fund for their two grandchildren. They had already talked to a number of financial advisers but were looking to get advice from someone who didn’t have anything financial to gain from their investments.
Libby phoned the hospital to thank Abby.
“Hey, no problem. They’re friends of my husband’s family. Really wonderful people.”
They chatted for a few more minutes and exchanged a bit of hospital gossip. Libby ended the call when she was buzzed by her shared receptionist.
“Yes,” Libby said.
“There’s someone here to see you. She said she didn’t have an appointment.”
“Ah, sure.” A client was a client. Libby left her desk and opened her office door to find Casey Goetz sitting in the waiting area. The teen flipped through a magazine until she noticed Libby.
“Casey?”
“Oh, hi.” Casey set aside the magazine, stood, and, with an I-told-you-so smile at the receptionist, followed Libby into the office. “Mom said you’d gotten your own office. Cool.” She looked around the room and nodded as though she approved.
Libby had been talking to Ava every couple of days on the phone just to make sure everything was okay. Ava’s doctor appointment was scheduled for early the following week—the earliest date the social worker had been able to get.
“Casey, this is a nice surprise. I understand you’re here on official business. What can I do for you?”
Casey looked surprised, as though it should be apparent. “I’ve come to hire you.”
Well, this was certainly interesting. Libby sat down and Casey took a chair, too. “Are you having legal troubles?” Libby asked, half-joking.
“No, I’m actually here on Ava’s behalf.”
“Of course.” Libby was grateful that Ava had a friend like Casey. She knew they chatted nearly every day after Darlene Carmichael left for work. “How can I help you … and Ava?” Libby inquired.
Casey sat up straighter. “We talked and Ava has decided that she wants to give the baby up for adoption.” She reached for her purse and took out her wallet. “Ava thought it might cost money. I have my allowance saved up so I told her I would pay you … if necessary.” She held on to her purse with both hands.
“Has Ava’s grandmother accepted the truth that Ava’s pregnant?” Libby asked.
“Not yet.”
Well, Mrs. Carmichael would be facing facts
soon enough.
“Can you help Ava with the … adoption?”
“What I can do,” Libby said, “is refer her to an agency.” She’d thought the social worker might have brought up the subject, but now she realized that the woman wouldn’t be able to do that until after Ava’s condition had been confirmed.
“How much will that cost?” Casey had her hand on her wallet, ready to take out the cash and pay Libby a retainer.
“Actually, that service is free.”
“Free?”
“Referrals are free,” Libby emphasized. She was touched by Casey’s resourcefulness.
“Oh.” The teenager’s shoulders relaxed, as though she was relieved.
“I can make a list of phone numbers for Ava or even make the calls myself on her behalf.”
Casey nodded. “I think it would be best if you made the calls; Ava feels it’s best for someone else …” She hesitated, and then added, “to take the baby.”
Libby was relieved by Ava’s decision. She realized it must have been a difficult choice for the young teenager. As Libby and Ava talked regularly, she was surprised Ava had asked Casey to approach her about this, especially in light of the fact that they’d even discussed Ava’s options concerning the baby.
“How’s Ava doing?” Libby asked. She’d talked to her the day before, but Casey might have an entirely different perspective.
“Okay, I guess, although she doesn’t leave the house now. She says you’ve brought her books and yarn and stuff and … and I think that’s great. Ava needs you.”
It was funny that Casey should say that, because Libby was thinking how much pleasure she got in helping the teenager. Ava reminded Libby of herself at that age—uncertain, lonely, and lost. They talked quite a bit about what it meant to be without a mother. Libby hoped to encourage Ava.
“Ava trusts you. She’s hoping …” Casey looked away and didn’t finish the sentence.
“What is she hoping?” Libby asked.
Casey squared her shoulders. “When Ava said she wanted to give her baby up for adoption she also said she felt odd giving her baby to strangers.”
“I agree that it’s a difficult decision.” But certainly it was the right one. The teen was little more than a child herself. Taking on the responsibility of raising a baby was beyond Ava’s emotional and mental capabilities, Libby believed.
“It was hard for her.”
“I know.” Libby would phone Ava again in the morning and together the two of them could go over the list of adoption agencies. “I’ll talk to Ava about this myself,” Libby promised. “She doesn’t need to worry about her baby. She’ll have the opportunity to read over the profiles of the families looking to adopt. The social worker will help her and she can actually choose the family.”
“She can choose herself?” Casey’s eyes brightened. “That’s great, because she already has someone in mind.”
Ava hadn’t mentioned this to Libby. “Really?”
Casey beamed at her. “Can you call her?”
“You mean right now?”
The girl nodded.
“Is she expecting my call?” Libby didn’t want to risk the possibility of Ava’s grandmother picking up the phone.
“She was hoping you would call. She asked me to talk to you first about the adoption because she was a little afraid of what you’d say.”
That was odd, because Libby had tried to steer her in that direction as much as possible. The choice had to be Ava’s, but Libby felt it was important for the girl to understand everything that would be involved if she decided to raise the baby on her own.
Casey stared pointedly at the phone. Libby reached for it and punched in Ava’s number. She must have been sitting right next to the phone because she picked up on the first ring.
“Hello,” came her tentative greeting.
“Ava, it’s Libby.”
“Is Casey with you?”
“She is.”
“Did she talk to you about the adoption?”
“She did,” Libby assured her.
“What do you think?” She sounded so tense, so uncertain, which was understandable, Libby supposed.
“I think that’s a wise decision for you and your baby.”
“Oh, thank you,” Ava breathed, and it sounded as if she was about to burst into tears. “I was afraid, you know, that being single you wouldn’t want my baby.”
“Want your baby? Me? You’re talking about me adopting the baby?” Oh my.
“Yes,” Ava breathed.
“Ava, there are any number of families who are eager for an infant. Remember how we talked about this? Some couples have waited years for the opportunity to adopt a child.”
“You did tell me that, but I don’t want just anyone to have my baby.”
This wasn’t making any sense.
“They’re strangers,” Ava insisted. “I want my baby to go to a good home, to someone I know will love her. I think of the baby as a her because I want a girl more than I want a boy.”
“Anyone who adopts your baby will love her,” Libby promised.
“Would you?” Ava asked.
The question gave Libby pause, and she realized in a sudden rush of emotion that she already did. “Yes,” she whispered and she sincerely meant it. She would love Ava’s baby.
“Then I want you to adopt my baby.”
The words should have rocked Libby’s world, turned it upside down. But after the initial shock of it, Libby realized they hadn’t. She remembered holding the Wilson baby and thinking that the baby could have been hers. The rush of regrets that had overcome her in those few moments had multiplied a dozen times when she’d realized that Baby Wilson was her ex-husband’s son.
“You want me to adopt your child?” Libby asked, to be sure she understood Ava’s wishes.
“Yes, you. I know you’ll love her. I know you’d be a good mother because … because you’ve been such a good friend to me. You’ve been like a mother to me. I … trust you more than I do anyone else in the world, even more than my grandmother. Please, say you’ll adopt my baby, Libby. Please.”
Chapter 29
Libby didn’t know how to answer Ava. The idea of raising Ava’s child was obviously a huge thing to contemplate. Her first impulse was to explain how impossible it would be for her, especially at this juncture in her life. The objection barely surfaced before it quickly dissipated. On the surface of things this was an idea that made no sense. She was just starting up her own law firm and would need to devote her energies in that direction.
But slowly, gradually, her thinking came around to the place her heart had gone immediately. This baby belonged with her. She would love Ava’s child and build her life around this baby.
Phillip phoned Sunday morning to ask if she’d like to take a drive up to Paradise on Mount Rainier. In all the years Libby had lived in the Seattle area she’d never once visited the national park or been to the lodge there, although she’d heard great things. Phillip told her he’d booked lunch reservations for them and that he thought it was time they talked. Libby agreed. The ride would give them privacy to discuss in more detail what had happened between them and how they wanted to move forward.
Instead they discussed Ava.
“You’re sure about this adoption idea?” Phillip pressed when Libby admitted she was leaning toward raising this child as her own.
“Yes … and no.”
Phillip chuckled. “Sounds like you really haven’t decided yet.”
“I have,” she countered, and smiling added, “at least for now.” Then, because she felt she needed to explain, she said, “One of the lessons I’ve learned this year has been that getting a life really means developing relationships. It’s more than joining a bowling league or working out at the gym. It’s about opening up my life and my heart to others.”
“A baby?”
“A very special baby. It started the moment I held the Wilson boy. I realized that under different circumstances he
could have been my son with Joe. My heart felt that need, that desire for a child, but deeper than any other emotion, the need for a family. When I learned the infant in my arms was actually Joe’s son … it felt as if my entire world had imploded. That day was pivotal for me.”
Phillip reached for her hand. He kept his eyes on the road, but the tightness of his grip told her he’d been affected, too.
“From that moment forward I started to build my own family. Now I have the opportunity to add a child to my life. I realize sacrifices will need to be made, but I’m willing to make them. Ava’s baby will give me purpose beyond my work, and will help broaden my world. And I want to give this baby a home, and love.” Already her heart was linked with Ava’s child. It was almost as if this was meant to be.
“Is there room in that assembled family for growth sometime down the road?” Phillip asked. He briefly took his gaze off the narrow, twisting mountain road.
Her mind spun, and responded with a question of her own. “Would you like there to be?”
“Very much,” he admitted.
Libby sighed.
They spent a wonderful day together. After a leisurely lunch at the lodge they hiked the trails leading up to the tree line, resting in a meadow filled with blooming wildflowers. They kissed and held hands on the trail on the way back to the car. As Phillip drove back to Seattle, Libby realized anew how much she wanted this incredible man to be part of the family she had formed for herself.
On Monday morning Libby felt great. She was on her way back to her apartment after her regular morning workout, eager to shower and change clothes in order to get to her office. She wasn’t in a rush, though, the way Robin always was, the way she’d been at one time herself.
Libby had to give her friend credit. The truth was, Robin didn’t appear as driven as she had in months past, either. Libby wondered if those changes had been inspired by what was happening in her own life. She certainly wasn’t the same woman who’d walked out of the law offices of Burkhart, Smith & Crandall last March. And frankly, Libby was glad of it. She’d gotten the butterfly tattoo on a lark and yet it had come to symbolize the profound changes taking place within her. It had come to represent the faith she had in herself to be a whole person and not just a driven attorney who used work as an excuse to avoid emotional entanglements.
Starting Now Page 23
