Kenny smiled. “Good man!”
Phillip looked at him, and for a moment it was as if the years since law school had never passed. With real confidence, he set his starting date and started off toward home. He could do it! Given this opportunity with a good law firm, he could be a success! He would be able to give Ann everything she wanted; he would recapture the enthusiasm and energy he had felt when he had first married her.
As Phillip turned at Union Square, he glimpsed his reflection in a shop window and was momentarily taken aback. What a sight he was in his shabby suit with its baggy prewar cut! Across the square was Bullock and Jones. It was an expensive men’s store, but why not? He had a job, didn’t he? The time had come to start living like a human being once again.
Before he could lose his nerve, he walked inside. Turning to the racks of fine worsteds with an unconsciously professional air, he quickly made a selection and, before he knew it, he was in front of a three-way mirror in an impeccable three-piece gray flannel suit. He straightened his shoulders and instantly the suit fell into line: no need even for a tailor. He didn’t look bad at all, did he? In the well-cut suit, his thinness became an asset.
“I’ll take it,” he announced, suddenly decisive. “And six white button-down shirts.”
By the time he was through, he had acquired not only a navy rep tie and a discreet burgundy silk, but a pair of polished black calf wing-tips.
“I’ll need to set up a charge account.” After giving his home address, he listed his business with a touch of pride: Newman, Ross, Simons, and Newman.
As Ann heard the key in the front door, she hurried from the kitchen, stripping off her apron and smoothing her hair.
“Phillip …” She stopped trying to hide her surprise. “You’ve gotten some new clothes, sweetheart. How wonderful!”
“Ann, you’ll never guess. Kenny has offered me a position. I start work on Monday.”
“And you’ve accepted. Oh, Phillip, I’m so happy for you!”
They flew into each other’s arms and hugged each other tightly.
Kissing her, he whispered, “Ann, darling, I love you so. You’ve been so patient with me. Now everything will be fine, I promise.”
Laughing, crying, Ann hugged him again. “Sweetheart, I know you’ll be great.”
“You know, I was a bit surprised. Kenny hadn’t given any hint he was thinking of hiring me before today.”
“He was probably waiting for you to get your strength back,” Ann said quickly.
“I suppose that was it,” Phillip agreed, a trifle doubtfully.
“Well, I always knew you were a genius, Phillip, and I guess Kenny knows it too….”
That night, when for the first time since his return, Phillip was able to make love to her, she was certain they were embarking on a bright new future.
Chapter Twenty-Two
WHEN PHILLIP LOOKED AT his wife pouring out his coffee the next morning, he knew that he could conquer the world with one hand tied behind his back. The feeling of euphoria sustained him all the way to the office. Even the elegance of the Mills Building on Montgomery Street, in the heart of San Francisco’s financial district, failed to shake his self-confidence.
It was only when he actually stood in front of the huge, gleaming wood door of the fifth floor office that he began to tremble slightly. Taking a handkerchief from his back pocket, he wiped his forehead. His newly born confidence was replaced by the familiar terrible feelings of inadequacy. But he had come too far to back down now.
He took a deep breath and opened the door. The receptionist seemed startled by his appearance. It’s the scar, Phillip thought without emotion. That’s just something I’ve got to get used to.
“Good morning,” he said evenly. “My name is Phillip Coulter.”
Unexpectedly, she smiled. “Mr. Coulter—how nice to meet you. Mr. Newman is expecting you.”
Rising from her desk, she escorted him down the hall to Kenny’s luxurious office. His friend was talking on the phone.
“They’ll settle for fifty thousand. We’ve snowed ’em with so much paper, they don’t know what hit ’em … they won’t be able to afford to keep fighting us.”
As Phillip waited, the thought flashed into his head that this was all for his benefit. Kenny could put his caller on hold for a moment, couldn’t he? But then he decided there was no reason Kenny should play wheeler-dealer for him. A moment later Kenny said, “Got to go now. Speak to you later.” He hung up, a broad smile on his face. “Phil! Sorry to keep you waiting, old buddy. I was talking to Sam Levy. You’ll meet him one of these days. We’ve got a settlement cooking on a big case.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Well—welcome aboard! Come on, I want you to meet the rest of the gang. We’ve got a conference in five minutes you can sit in on.”
At first Phillip felt ill at ease, sitting at the big oval conference table, but after a while the arguments began to make sense and he became absorbed in the pretrial planning.
As the conference broke up, the other lawyers briefly greeted him. One of them said, “So you’re the new clerk, eh? Don’t let them work you to death.”
Phillip felt a burning sense of humiliation. With all his experience, he was coming in as a beginner. Kenny hadn’t spelled it out, but Phillip had assumed that he was being hired as an associate. Now he realized that he and Kenny hadn’t even discussed salary, let alone his title. Well, he was sure Kenny hadn’t intended a slight. Perhaps within a few months, if he did well, he would be given some trial work.
His next shock was his office. After Kenny’s, with its paneled walls and plush red carpeting, Phillip had expected that his own, though smaller, would be attractive. Instead, he was shown to a dingy cubbyhole with a linoleum floor.
He did his best to keep his face impassive as Kenny said, “The library is down the hall. Do you work on a typewriter?” At Phillip’s nod, he continued. “We’ll try to get you one. Meanwhile, I’m sure our other clerk will share with you.” He paused. “Do you have any other questions?”
“No.”
“Good.” Kenny clapped him on the back. “It will be great having you here.”
Phillip sank into the desk chair and lit a cigarette, trying not to let the small space make him feel claustrophobic. He knew he was going to have to control his resentment, but for the moment he wondered how he could endure such humiliation. Who was Kenny to lord it over him?
Phillip tried to remind himself that he was lucky to have a job at all. Two days ago, he was unemployed, almost unable to leave his house. Face it, Phil—you were floundering and Kenny gave you a break.
He began to leaf through the file on his desk. His eye caught a novel procedural motion and he soon found his old interest in civil procedure reawakening.
Before he knew it, the secretary was rapping on the door, asking if he wanted a sandwich sent in. Phillip looked at his watch and realized with a start that it was long past lunch.
“Pastrami on rye if you don’t mind, Nancy.” He smiled. “I’m just going to work straight through today.”
By five o’clock, Phillip was certain the job would work out. It was good to put his legal training to use again. He could become a success. He knew he could.
That evening, as Ann listened to Phillip’s account of his first day, she decided she would never doubt God’s mercy again.
As time passed, he became more assured. He turned out briefs, memos, and motions, always carefully researched and written, always on time. Often, he worked late in order to finish some project, and Ann became accustomed to hearing the phone ring at five minutes to six. She would pretend to be disappointed, but in reality she rejoiced at this evidence of Phillip’s determination. He was bound to get ahead, working at this rate. So far, he earned a pittance, but they could manage for the time being, especially if he received a raise in the near future. Perhaps they could move to a bigger apartment, maybe a new dress or two for herself….
Phillip himsel
f felt more and more confident with every assignment he completed. His moments of panic and self-doubt came less and less frequently, and he was certain that he would soon be ready for trial work. In fact, he was less nervous now about appearing in court than he had been before the war. After facing the likes of Nakanishi and Oto, a mere judge and jury held little terror for him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
IN THE MONTHS THAT followed, Phillip was in his office promptly at nine every morning. At first, he was busy catching up on new laws and concepts, but one day, after he had been with the firm for some ten months, he broached the subject with Kenny.
“You think that you’re ready to go into court?” Kenny’s tone held disbelief.
“I think I am,” Phillip said as firmly as he could.
Kenny hesitated, then spoke with care. “Phil, listen. You’re my buddy and I hate to be the one to say this to you. Less than a year ago, you were an emotional basket case. I just can’t believe that in less than a year you’ve recovered enough to face a jury. That’s a hell of a lot tougher than just grinding out paperwork.”
“I think I can handle it, Kenny.”
Kenny stared hard at him, his expression sober and concerned. Finally he spoke. “I think we’d better give it a little more time, Phil. You’ve got plenty to keep you busy right now, don’t you?”
Phillip nodded, uncertain how to press his case further. If he couldn’t win an argument with his only real friend, how could he take on hostile counsel?
“All right,” Kenny said when Phillip didn’t reply. “We’ll talk more about this later.”
It was a dismissal and Phillip turned and left without speaking. It never occurred to him that Kenny subconsciously might not have wanted him to succeed. Kenny still remembered envying his friend’s background in high school, his startling good looks, his quick brilliance, even the fact he was a war hero. Now, though Kenny didn’t realize it, he tended to block Phillip’s progress in the firm, and since the other partners knew the two were lifelong friends, if Kenny said Coulter wasn’t ready for a promotion, they continued to hire from the outside.
Each time Phillip accepted the decision, but after another eighteen months, he confronted Kenny again.
“Kenny, when you hired me, very frankly I was just happy to be working again, and the salary was unimportant. Lately, though, I’m having a harder and harder time getting along on my paycheck. Even more, I feel I’m ready for more responsibility. I’m capable of more. I want to be considered for an associate’s position, at least.”
Kenny hadn’t expected Phillip to put it to him so bluntly.
“Well, it’s not that your name hasn’t come under consideration, Phil …”
“You mean that I’ve been considered and rejected? Would you mind very much telling me why?”
“Phil, litigation is our specialty, and all of our associates have to be able to perform well in open court. I don’t want to upset you, but quite frankly no one feels you’re quite ready for that.”
“How can anyone tell what I’m capable of? You’ve never let me go into court at all, not even on the most minor matter. I couldn’t be more under-challenged.”
Kenny regarded him kindly. “Phil. This is between friends?”
“Of course.”
“Phil, I’ve seen you when you’re tired or under stress. Your limp is more noticeable. Your face shows the strain. For God’s sake, look at your hand—it’s shaking.”
Phillip looked down. Was his hand shaking? He hadn’t noticed it. But it was true that his limp worsened when he was tired. Once again, he felt helpless to protest that he was perfectly fine. He obviously didn’t look it, and appearances were what counted in a courtroom.
“Okay,” he said at last. “I’ll accept that verdict for the time being. But I’d like to go on record as saying that I can’t go on indefinitely like this.”
“If you feel you can find another place where you’ll be happier …”
A moment of panic struck Phillip. He couldn’t afford to go without even one paycheck, and if he looked as bad as Kenny seemed to imply, he might not find anything else.
“I wasn’t threatening to quit, Kenny,” he said quickly.
Kenny idly toyed with a paper on his desk. “I’ll tell you what, Phil. Let me see if I can’t get you a raise. Perhaps that will help.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
In the weeks that followed, Phillip tried not to let Kenny’s opinion get to him, but doubts started to haunt him. He found it harder to be enthusiastic about his assignments and he no longer volunteered for extra work.
Ann was happy to find him on time for dinner and was not concerned about his salary. She assumed that all lawyers were underpaid until they made partner. She refused to even consider the possibility that Phillip might fail. In fact, the only cloud on the horizon that she saw was Eva’s failing health. Each week Eva seemed to fade a little more. Simon and Ann did everything they could to tempt her to eat and to distract her during the long days. Ann had given up her part-time job and devoted herself to Eva’s comfort, but as the holidays rolled around, Eva became less and less responsive, until one January morning she slipped into a coma. By the time Phillip could race home from the office, she had died.
Ann could not believe how much she would miss her mother-in-law. The years of worry during the war had brought them closer than most real mothers and daughters. Now she felt almost as bereft as Simon. Phillip at least had his work, but Ann and Simon found their days had lost their focus.
Ann was so upset that she didn’t notice that her period was late by nearly two months. For another three weeks she was so afraid she might not be pregnant that she postponed calling the doctor. When she finally went in and had the test, she practically held her breath until he called her with the news.
“No, Mrs. Coulter, there’s no mistake about it. You’re going to have a baby. In September, I’d say.”
Ann’s joy was shadowed only by the fact that Eva was not there to share it. This was the miracle for which they had both prayed. Ann could hardly wait for Phillip to come home.
When he opened the door that night, she flew into his arms.
“Heavens, did I forget something?” Phillip laughed. “A birthday? An anniversary, perhaps?”
“A birthday in September. Oh, Phillip, we’re going to have a baby.”
Ann had not seen Phillip so unreservedly happy since the early days of their marriage. Even Simon lost the sad, drawn look his face had worn since Eva’s death.
Phillip now worked with renewed ambition, while Ann and Simon spent their days readying the apartment for the child.
On September 6, 1949, Ann gave birth to a baby girl. They named her Eva Louise, but she almost immediately became Evie. Simon wept unashamedly at the sight of the baby. It was as though his beloved Eva had been reborn in the granddaughter she hadn’t lived long enough to see. Simon had almost willed himself to die along with Eva, but looking down at Evie, he now felt he had a reason to go on living. In that moment, a blind adoration for her was born in him that would endure for the rest of his life.
When Phillip was finally allowed to see his daughter for the first time, he was overwhelmed with a love like no other he had ever experienced. If he did nothing else in life, he could be proud of fathering this beautiful baby. “Evie,” he whispered, giving her the necklace she would always wear, “you are my future.”
From that moment, Evie became the center of Phillip’s world. Although Ann, too, had longed for this child, vowing never to allow her to be abused the way Ann had been in her childhood, Phillip felt that his life had been transformed. His days were filled with happy expectation of the moment he could pick her up, and his nights no longer were troubled by horrible dreams about the war.
As she grew from tiny infant to plump smiling baby, he insisted on feeding her dinner and playing with her on the living room floor.
From the very first her face lit up at the sight of Daddy. Ann watched the tw
o of them with an occasional stab of jealousy. It was wonderful, of course, that Phillip took fatherhood so seriously, but there were limits. After all, wasn’t she the one who spent her days taking care of Evie? Yet the minute Evie saw her father’s face she had eyes for no one else. Ann didn’t understand that deep down inside herself there dwelt a lonely child who wanted to be indulged and pampered just as Evie was.
Still, her twinges of jealousy were short-lived, and she laughed at her own foolishness. Phillip was a perfect father. When Evie had colic, he walked the floor with her, soothing her cries. When she fell down, he put on the Band-Aids. When she had a high fever at the age of one, Phillip stayed home from work for four days fussing over her like a mother hen.
“Darling, can they do without you for this long?” Ann asked, worried that he was taking advantage of Kenny. “Evie’s not in any danger.”
“Why don’t you let me worry about that, Ann?” he said, a trace of irritation in his voice.
How could he tell her how unimportant he was to Newman, Ross, Simons, and Newman? They could probably hire a second-year law student to do what he did. Nothing had really changed since his conversation with Kenny. He had gotten a small raise, but he had not been assigned more challenging work. From time to time he thought of leaving, but he was always stopped by the thought that if he couldn’t make it under Kenny’s aegis, then he’d never make it elsewhere. Without realizing it, he was beginning to see himself the way Kenny did.
It hurt him to think that Evie couldn’t have every material thing she might want, and in an effort to compensate, he smothered her with love and spent whatever extra money he could scrape together on her. Nothing was too good for Evie Coulter.
Chapter Twenty-Four
IT WAS DECEMBER OF 1952. Evie was three years old, and positively enchanting. For the first time she was old enough to understand what the holiday was about, and the only thing she could talk about was “Santy Claus.”
For the last week, Ann and Phillip had been promising to take her downtown to Macy’s to see this magical figure in person, to sit on his lap and tell him what she would like for Christmas.
Seasons of the Heart Page 13
