“Yes, your honor,” Jack mumbled.
“Final matter. Does either side believe it will file a motion for summary judgment?”
Mike did not expect to file a motion and hoped Jack would indicate he wouldn’t file one either. To Mike’s disappointment, Jack informed Jeri the defendant intended to move for summary judgment and argue the court should dismiss the case because, he claimed, Mike would not be able to prove the department store did anything wrong legally.
When he heard Jack’s intention, Mike inwardly groaned, not because he was especially worried the court would dismiss the case, but rather because of all of the work Mike would have to do to prepare a brief opposing the motion.
After hearing Jack’s intention to file a motion, Jeri ruled all briefs would be due six weeks before trial so she could hold argument two weeks later.
“Hey guys,” Jeri said in a light-hearted tone, “I’m glad we are going to be spending so much time together. I think we will handle this without much trouble, don’t you?”
Sounding more hopeful than he was, Mike offered his agreement.
Jeri tried to end the phone call on a positive note. “I guess I will see you guys again for argument on the motion. Looking forward to it.” Jeri clicked the ‘Goodbye’ button on her phone, ending the conversation. Mike swiveled his chair and inspected his law diploma. He thought about how law school now seemed so distant.
Chapter 30
March 5, 2018−Four Years after Graduation from Law School
“Are You A fucking idiot?” Ed Wagner roared in the direction of the floor to ceiling window overlooking the Chicago skyline, yet clearly directing his venom towards Jack.
Jack believed the pending question was rhetorical, so chose not to respond, allowing Wagner to continue his tirade. “I am trying to teach you how to play the game−how to be a player, but you are fucking it up. Wendell’s could be an amazing client. They have four hundred and fifty locations nationwide with annual revenue of thirteen and a half billion dollars. They get sued in commercial claims, labor disputes, workers’ compensation—so many ways. They want us to advise them on how to manage their property portfolio, tax issues, benefit analysis. We could receive fifteen million in fees every year from this client. All they want us to do is handle one little PI case properly and you are trying to piss it all away.”
Wagner turned toward Jack, who saw his mentor’s face was now a bright shade of red with the sweat stains under his armpits creeping down to his waist. Running his hands through his thick, closely cropped hair, Wagner took a deep breath and walked towards the couch where Jack was seated. Wagner’s face briefly contorted in a smile before the scowl returned.
“How are we going to solve this problem?” Wagner demanded.
Jack wanted to appear confident and in control. “I think I can still settle this.”
A nasty smirk stretched across Wagner’s face. “You are not in a position to settle at this point. You are facing a trial in a few months. Maybe opposing counsel is a friend of yours, but you didn’t teach him how to dance. From what it sounds like to me, he is in control and not you.”
Jack wanted to disagree, but decided not to interrupt. “Let’s see,” Wagner continued, “the client again raised the reserves on this case to the ridiculous figure of six hundred and fifty thousand, which in my estimation would be a huge windfall for the plaintiff. Unfortunately, you don’t know if there is any chance they will take your offer. If you can’t convince them to take the money, you will have to take your chances in front of a jury. Are you prepared for that?”
“Absolutely,” Jack said, his voice sounding more exuberant than he hoped.
Wagner turned his back to Jack again and walked back to the window. He began to speak again in a more measured voice. “Let’s go through this from the beginning. Our client likes you and wants to let you run with the case. However, I am concerned you are blowing this, but they, for whatever reason, still think you are in control. It’s good, but if we can’t settle this for less than the shitload of money they allocated to settlement or at least bring a verdict in under that figure, we are screwed. I know these guys and if you don’t satisfy them, they will pack up shop and take their business to another firm and we will lose the chance to bill them for millions of dollars every year. You understand what’s happening here?”
“Yeah, I better settle this.”
“Let me paint a clearer picture for you.” Wagner turned to stare directly at Jack. “If you get this case resolved and the client remains happy, you will likely be a partner within a couple of years.” An enormous smile appeared on Jack’s face as he pictured himself in a corner office receiving all of the perks of a shareholder of the firm.
“Before you stain your pants fantasizing about your huge paycheck,” Wagner stated, “let me finish what I was saying. If you are not able to keep our client happy, you are done here. It will be ‘pack your bags and be on your way’. You will be walked out the door with no recommendation and you will be forgotten by the time you board the bus to travel home to mommy.”
The images in Jack’s head of luxury goods and other trappings of wealth immediately morphed into images of walking into small law offices and begging for a job. This was the first time since he began school that his view of his legal career did not involve an upward trajectory with accompanying financial rewards.
Jack stood and took a step forward. “I know what to do and please don’t worry, I will handle it−no matter what.”
Wagner nodded paternally. “I think this talk has been a benefit for both of us. I’m glad we are on the same page.”
Recognizing his cue to leave the office, Jack turned and left. As he was walking down the hallway, he felt bile burn in the back of his throat.
Chapter 31
April 24, 2018—Five Years after Graduation from Law School
STEPPING FROM THE elevator, Mike tried to appear inconspicuous, carrying the oversized green dinosaur, stuffed and dressed in a suit and tie he had purchased the day before. Mike walked down the brightly lit corridor, his stride impeded by the five-foot animal he attempted to grasp in his left hand while carrying his briefcase in his other.
“Do you need any help?” a kind voice asked from behind the nurse’s station. Conscious of his awkward situation, Mike indicated he could manage his load. This did not dissuade the young LPN, who came out from behind her post and grabbed the dinosaur before Mike could offer further protest. The nurse placed both of her arms around its neck, and gave it a quick kiss on the cheek.
“This is clearly a full-service hospital. Thanks for the help. I probably would have dropped the poor dinosaur five times before I got to the room,” Mike said.
“Which room are we headed to?”
“My Uncle Stan’s room.”
“Stan Rotmen? He’s my favorite. I’m so happy he’s ready to leave the hospital, but we’re going to miss him. He’s such a sweetie.”
“Everyone says the same thing, but he’s actually quite the bastard,” Mike said.
“I doubt it. You can’t fake being so nice with IVs sticking out of you.”
Holding the stuffed dinosaur in front of her, the nurse asked why he was in a suit.
“I would think that should be obvious, but perhaps you’ve only seen my uncle in his hospital-wear−not flattering. He’s kind of like you,” Mike said, “he also wants to help people. You wear a nurse’s uniform when you treat your patients, but my uncle wears a suit when he helps people solve their problems. So, I wanted to tell him I’m tired of seeing him in those ugly hospital outfits and everyone is looking forward to him getting back to the office.”
“What a kind thing to say. But why a dinosaur?”
Mike blushed a little. “I tease him−that he’s a dinosaur. I consider it a compliment. He does things the old-fashioned way, like treating people with respect, listening to people, and
being honest−stuff a lot of younger people have difficulty with these days.”
The nurse held the stuffed animal in front of her face as they walked, speaking directly to it. “You are going to a wonderful home. Stan is certainly a sweetie and his nephew appears to have many of the same traits.” Initially taken aback by the compliment, Mike was at a loss for words as they turned into the hospital room.
“There’s my favorite nurse,” Stan said while sitting up in his bed. “Finally, the two of you have met.”
“Sort of, Uncle Stan. She agreed to help lug your present into the room, but we actually never introduced ourselves.” Mike turned to the nurse, extending his hand. “Hi, I’m Mike, Mike Reigert.”
“And I’m Megan O’Malley. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mike Reigert.” She shook his hand and approached her patient, who rested the dinosaur on his lap with its short arms around his neck. “Mr. Reigert, now is not the time to be playing with dinosaurs. We must take you downstairs for your final tests so we can release you this afternoon.”
“You’re making me so happy. Seeing my favorite nurse and my nephew with this amazing dinosaur just makes me smile. I ache and I’m exhausted, but get me out of this place and into my own bed and I will be even happier. I can’t wait to get back to work in a couple of weeks.”
Megan swiftly transferred Stan to a waiting wheelchair. As she wheeled Stan out of the room, she casually said to Mike, “I need to drop him downstairs and then come back up here to change some sheets. I hope you will still be waiting for your uncle.”
Mike was not sure exactly what she meant, but nodded to indicate he would remain in the room. He noticed Megan’s small frame and the bob of her red curls as she wheeled Stan out of the room. He made a mental checklist of things he could do to make sure that he was still there when Megan returned, no matter how long it took.
After twenty minutes of sitting in an uncomfortable chair, trying to review a deposition, Mike startled when Megan returned to the room. With high-speed efficiency, Megan began to break down Stan’s IV tower and remake the bed. Mike admired not only the precision with which Megan made her hospital corners, but also the manner in which she filled out her green nurse’s uniform, and the spirit which she brought to mundane tasks.
“Do you do this to everyone’s room when they leave? I’m not much at changing linens,” said Mike, cringing when he realized how trite his questions sounded.
“Oh good, you do actually speak. I thought you were going to let me finish everything I had to do without saying a word.”
“I was trying to think of a witty opening line.”
“Perhaps you should take a little more time to come up with one.” Megan’s comeback would have stung except for the way her eyes sparkled at him when she said it. He fumbled for some other area to discuss, but was momentarily flummoxed.
Megan continued with her tasks, and as she finished turning off the monitors behind the bed she said, “Mike, I have lots of other patients to deal with. I would love to chat, but I must attend to another in about two minutes. I think I should be direct. Your uncle’s raved about you since he got here. I’ve wanted to meet you in person, but I usually pull the early shift and you come to visit your uncle after work. Today when you came with the stuffed dinosaur, I thought it was so damn cute. So, Mike, would you like to go to lunch sometime?”
Megan’s directness nearly floored Mike. Once again, he had trouble formulating a response. He nodded and as he did Megan handed him a piece of paper saying, “My cell number is on here. Call or text me and we can meet. I think it would be fun.”
Before Mike could respond, Megan threw the old sheets in the used linen hamper and walked out of the room. Taking a deep breath to modulate his heart rate, Mike immediately entered Megan’s number in his cellphone.
Chapter 32
May 5, 2018—Five Years after Graduation from Law School
THE SUN SHONE onto the hillside, warming the grass and creating a glow around the neighboring trees. A bevy of children played on the jungle gym rising from the foam padding, their screams and laughter converging, background noise for the entire park.
A football field’s length away from the playground was a secluded location shaded by three sprawling oak trees. A gentle breeze caressed the two lone figures sitting casually on a tartan blanket. Scattered containers of food and a near empty bottle of wine littered the blanket. Mike tilted his head backward to allow the wind to rush over his face. Megan rested on her side, her hand supporting her head, as she and Mike took a brief respite from their conversation.
Mike pointed out two birds making large, swooping circles in the sky. “Look they are coming right for us,” Mike yelped.
“Stop it. They are just having fun. So, tell me what do you like to do for fun on dates?”
“That’s a loaded question,” Mike responded. “I haven’t had a lot of fun dating recently.”
“I can’t believe that. I’ve found you rather easy to talk to. Even when you called me that first time when I was just getting off my shift at the hospital you were easy to talk to. What problems have you had dating?”
“Since I’ve moved to Pottstown it’s been a series of interesting experiences to say the least. The first time I went to dinner with a woman here within ten minutes she told me we couldn’t go out because I didn’t fit her picture of long-term dating material. Another time, a client of mine tried to fix me up with his neighbor. I met her at a bar and she was really nice. Only problem was she was twenty years older than me. She played billiards like a pro, but we didn’t have much in common.”
Megan laughed. “I think I can match what you have to offer. I met this guy at a friend’s house. Funnier than anybody I had met before. When he picked me up at my apartment, he saw a picture of me with another woman. He told me how hot the other woman was. I told him it was my mom. I kicked him out when he asked me for her number. Seriously.”
“Maybe it hasn’t worked out well for me so far, but I like meeting people and I keep trying. Gives me some good stories.”
“Hopefully you won’t get too many of those stories from today.”
“I doubt it.”
Megan looked at the spread of empty containers covering the blanket. “You must have spent all day putting this together. It’s impressive.”
Mike looked down and then glanced into Megan’s green eyes. “I wanted to make it different, but we had never talked about what you liked to eat, so I just got a variety of spreads, salads, and fruits. I figured you would like something. Speaking of recent dates, last week I had dinner with a woman. I ordered a hamburger and listened to her chastise me the whole meal about my food choices and the benefits of a vegan lifestyle.”
“You won’t get that from me. You pretty much could have brought anything and I would have eaten it. There aren’t many things I won’t eat. I’m no vegetarian. In fact, my dad has always called me a ‘foodasaurus’. He thinks it’s funny.”
“It is,” Mike said while surreptitiously looking Megan over in her casual shorts, denim top, and sandals. “Plus, nobody would ever guess how much you like to eat.”
“Thanks. You know we are way past that hour time limit we put on this picnic.”
Mike looked at his watch. “Wow, we blew way past it.”
The sun was beginning to fall behind them and the children abandoned the jungle gym as evening approached. “I’m going to take a risk and declare this picnic a success,” Mike said.
Megan took a sip of the wine they’d been drinking stealthily out of blue Solo cups. “We may not agree on the definition of success, but throwing together some food you bought at the supermarket hardly counts as successful,” she teased. “Until you spend some serious money on me, don’t think about success.”
Mike guessed she was joking, although given his recent track record with women, he was not totally sure. “I want at least one more chance t
o impress you.”
“Fine.” Megan stifled a fake yawn. “I will allow you one more opportunity.”
Mike clutched her arm and said, “I’m not kidding. I want to take you out again.”
Smiling, she answered, “I’m not kidding either. I would love to go out with you again.”
Chapter 33
May 11, 2018—Five Years after Graduation from Law School
THE BEDROOM, NEAT and tidy, held a hodgepodge of collections. On the shelf over the bed, staring open-eyed towards the ceiling was an assortment of dolls, looking worn, but obviously loved through overuse. Tacked to the closet door were three band posters evidencing a hard rock phase that coincided with high school and the corresponding pot experimentation period. Barely visible in the closet were a series of t-shirts emblazoned with slogans that seemed so important in college. Shirts she had received as a member of the Young Republicans Club and the Sierra Club. Next to the bed was a bookshelf containing law books arranged by year including Prosser on Torts, Kamisar’s Constitutional Law casebook, and the other books necessary to gain an education and ultimately a degree in law.
Stacked neatly next to the legal casebooks were a series of binders holding notes, course outlines, and other school materials. She had not touched any of these resources since graduation, and likely she would never utilize them again. But she wouldn’t sell the books back to the bookstore or destroy the binders and class scribbles because doing so would implicitly suggest the years in law school never happened or at least weren’t so significant.
Not much had changed in Jeri’s bedroom since she left for school. Sandy Richards didn’t need the extra room, and hadn’t changed it. Every now and then Jeri’s mom would wander into Jeri’s room, sit quietly on the bed and marvel at how quickly time passed. She would rub her hand on the quilt Jeri used starting in fifth grade and remember how Jeri would clutch it trying to force herself to go to sleep when the issues of the day like why Martha Kellerman dumped her as a friend or why Mrs. McClelland refused to raise her score on the science fair project raced through her head.
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