The Living Room

by Robert Whitlow

  “Yes, sir, but I appreciate you letting me know. It takes some of the load off my mind.”

  “At least you feel better,” Mr. Phillips grunted. “Now, get back to work.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  When Amy reached the door to her office, Mr. Phillips called after her.

  “Amy!”

  She turned around.

  “Have I been in one of your dreams?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Good. Keep it that way.”

  Amy finished the day without seeing Chris, but the compassion she felt in her heart for the young lawyer never left. Several times she found herself offering up a quick prayer for him and his wife, Laura. She continued to pray during her drive home.

  It was an afternoon when Megan was going to watch Ian, and they were at the kitchen table doing their homework when Amy walked through the door. Ian had taken his arm out of the sling and was resting it on the table.

  “What’s for supper?” Ian asked as soon as Amy came through the door. “Megan is starving me.”

  “Only because I wouldn’t let you climb on top of the counter to get into Dad’s stash of candy and offered you fruit instead,” Megan replied.

  Megan sounded almost exactly like Amy.

  “Megan is right,” Amy said. “If you don’t want to snack on something healthy, you can wait for supper. I’m fixing spaghetti and salad.”

  “I’m done.” Ian closed his book. “Call me when it’s time to eat.”

  Ian ran out of the kitchen. Amy knew he would bound up the stairs two steps at a time.

  “Thanks for watching him,” Amy said to Megan.

  “He’s a good kid, most of the time.”

  Amy gave Megan a puzzled look. Megan closed her book and snapped the cap on top of her highlighter.

  “Are we doing anything as a family Friday night?” she asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I’d like to get together with friends.”

  “Where?”

  “At Mr. Ryan’s house. We’re going to make homemade pizza with all kinds of cool toppings. Then he’s going to show old videos from when he was a teenager and went surfing and snowboarding.”

  “How big a group will be there?”

  “It depends on who ends up coming. You know how people are. They’ll say yes then bail if something they think is going to be more fun comes along. But I think this will be cool.”

  “How many people did he invite?”

  “I don’t know, but it was probably a bunch. He’s superpopular.”

  “Any other adults?”

  “Please, Mom, I’m not hiding anything from you. Is it okay if I go? Alecia’s mother is going to pick me up and bring me home, so there’s nothing you have to do but say yes.”

  “Let’s check with your dad.”

  Megan crossed her arms in front of her chest.

  “Which means I have to be cross-examined all over again.”

  “He may have questions I didn’t think of.”

  Megan stormed out of the kitchen, leaving her schoolbooks behind. Amy took the ground beef out of the refrigerator and turned on the skillet. Staring at meat as it cooked in a pan seemed like a nice thing to do. The meat might spatter a bit, but she could always adjust the heat and avoid getting burned. Interacting with Megan was not so easily controlled.

  After supper, Amy, Jeff, and Megan sat around the kitchen table, and Megan repeated her request in a humble tone of voice.

  “Sounds fine with me,” Jeff said.

  “Thanks, Dad.” Megan cut her eyes at Amy. “I knew you’d understand.”

  “So long as you’re home by eleven o’clock,” Jeff added. “There’s no reason for you to be out any later than that.”

  “Eleven o’clock?” Megan responded. “The party won’t start breaking up until at least midnight.”

  “Party?” Jeff asked.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, I don’t, and whatever you want to call it, your time at Mr. Ryan’s house ends at eleven o’clock. If Alecia’s mother lets her stay later than that, I’ll pick you up. Agreed?”

  “Okay, I guess that’s better than having to miss it.”

  Megan left, and Jeff turned to Amy.

  “We can’t keep her in a bubble,” he said, “and a teacher-sponsored event is better than a lot of the alternatives. Mr. Ryan seems like a nice guy who is genuinely interested in his students.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Amy agreed reluctantly.

  Jeff logged on to the computer, and Amy went upstairs to the writing room. She stared at a blank screen for a few moments before setting her laptop aside. Taking paper from the top drawer of her desk, she wrote Ms. Burris a note briefly explaining why she had to cut off contact between the two of them. Amy hoped Ms. Burris would receive the news with grace. With a sigh, she folded the note and put it in an envelope to mail the following day.

  Returning to her computer, she read the last few pages she’d written in Deeds of Darkness. When composing the first draft of a novel, Amy worked carefully and deliberately. Reading her words, Amy felt herself being drawn into the story. She reached the final line and immediately knew what she wanted to write about next. An hour and a half later she saved her work and turned off the computer. It had been a much more productive evening than she would have guessed possible when she climbed the stairs.

  “You know one of the things I miss most about going back to work?” Amy asked Jeff as they were getting ready for bed.

  “Helping me with the yard?”

  “No, but I’ll plant flowers as soon as it’s warm enough.”

  “Will you water them?”

  Amy took care of indoor plants but had a well-earned reputation of allowing outside flora to wither in the summer heat.

  “Probably not, but you’ll show me how much you love me by doing it for me.”

  “If that’s your love language, I’ll buy the biggest watering can on the market and fill it up to the top.”

  “You’re sweet.” Amy smiled. “But I was thinking about Natalie. I really enjoyed sitting at the coffee shop and talking to her after the kids went to school. We could relax and people-watch without having to worry about the clock.”

  “I can’t help you there.” Jeff paused. “But why don’t you meet her for lunch once a week or so? You’d have to make it short, but it would be better than nothing. I’m sure Natalie misses you, too.”

  Amy glanced at the clock on the nightstand.

  “She and Luke go to bed later than we do. I’m going to call her.”

  Natalie was surprised at Amy’s late-night phone call but quickly agreed to meet with her the following day.

  “I’ll pick you up,” Natalie said. “Since you only have thirty minutes, there’s not enough time to go to a restaurant, so I’ll bring you something to eat.”

  “No,” Amy protested. “I’m not trying to turn you into my private caterer.”

  “Hush. Where can we go that’s quiet?”

  “How about the park across from the Presbyterian church? I go there a lot by myself and eat in the car.”

  “Drive-in, takeout dining it is. I’ll see you tomorrow. And thanks for calling. I’ve missed you, too.”

  When the lights were turned off, Amy lay on her back in the darkness. She wanted to see Natalie and was glad it worked out for them to get together. But in the back of her mind, she knew she was also trying to compensate for the loss of Ms. Burris. The older woman had been in her life only a short time, but it was amazing how many times she’d thought about a phrase Ms. Burris shared with her. One thing Amy intended to do was encourage Natalie to continue her own relationship with the elderly woman. Natalie could then tell Amy about it.

  A secondhand drink of godly wisdom was better than no drink at all.

  The following morning Amy finished organizing Mr. Phillips’s mail and was transcribing letters when she looked up and saw Chris standing in her doorway with a stack of files in his arm
s. Nothing about his face revealed the trauma of the past twenty-four hours. Amy pulled out her earbuds.

  “Mr. Phillips wants to go through these files,” Chris said, putting them down on the corner of Amy’s desk.

  “He mentioned that to me yesterday.”

  Chris glanced past Amy’s shoulder toward Mr. Phillips’s office.

  “He’s not in yet,” Amy answered the unspoken question.

  “Then you know what happened in the Westside Lighting case?”

  “My door was cracked open, and I overheard your conversation with Mr. Phillips.”

  Chris hung his head for a moment, then cut his eyes to the side.

  “I had no idea,” he said.

  “But I did, and I told Mr. Phillips I should have mentioned it to you.”

  Chris looked up in surprise.

  “How?” he asked.

  Amy knew an apology would be small consolation to the young lawyer, but it was all she had to offer. She told him about her dream. He listened without showing any emotion.

  “I should have said something to you,” she said, “and I’m sorry.”

  “What did Mr. Phillips say?”

  “Not much about the dream. He believes you should have reviewed the financial records more closely.”

  “Yeah. When I was hired, I emphasized my background in economics and financial matters. That came back to bite me big-time in this situation.” Chris lowered his voice. “I guess you can’t tell me whether I’m going to lose my job?”

  “No, but the fact that you’re still here this morning is a good sign. The firm hasn’t fired a lawyer during the years I’ve worked here, but when a staff member is let go, it always happens fast.”

  Chris pointed to the files on the corner of the desk.

  “There’s work that needs to be done in these cases, but I’m locked down until I’m told specifically what to do.”

  “Mr. Phillips’s calendar for the morning is blocked out for ‘Review of CL Files.’ He’ll probably want to go over some things with you in person later in the day.”

  “I’ll be here,” Chris said, “unless I’m escorted off the premises.”

  Chris turned to leave.

  “Oh,” Amy said. “I finished your chart of the parties and witnesses in the Dominick estate litigation. There’s a copy on Mr. Phillips’s desk, but I made another one for you.”

  Chris unfolded the chart. Amy had printed it out and taped the chart together so it could be hung on the wall.

  “I like this,” he said. “We may do a version of this as an exhibit for the jury. It’s hard to follow all the players without a roster.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.”

  Chris paused. “What do you think about that case?”

  “I was shocked that Mildred Burris and Sanford Dominick were engaged. She was a client of the firm for years, and I’ve met her several times. I never would have imagined them as a couple.”

  “Did you ever talk to her about Dominick?”

  “No, there was no reason to.”

  “Does she trust you?”

  “Uh, I guess so.”

  “Would you be willing to talk to her about the case?”

  Startled, Amy said, “I can’t. Mr. Phillips ordered me to cut off personal contact with her until the case is over, and I put a note telling her that in the mail room this morning. He was concerned about a conflict of interest or ethical problem.”

  “There’s no conflict of interest because she’s no longer a client of the firm. And she’s not a party to the litigation.”

  “But she may be a witness to the will prepared by the lawyer from the eastern part of the state.”

  “Which still doesn’t mean we can’t conduct informal discovery.” Chris paused. “How did you feel when Mr. Phillips ordered you not to have any contact with Ms. Burris outside the office?”

  “He’s the boss.”

  “Sounds like a slave boss. Anyway, I wouldn’t expect you to disregard what he told you unless he changes his mind.”

  “I wouldn’t feel right trying to trick Ms. Burris into giving me information.”

  “That’s not the goal. But it would be helpful to have an idea what took place between Ms. Burris and Dominick both in the past and more importantly prior to his death. I don’t want another repeat of the Michael Baldwin fiasco.”

  Amy hesitated.

  “At least don’t send the note until I can talk to Mr. Phillips about it,” Chris said. “If he changes his mind, he’ll be upset that you already closed the door on communication.”

  Amy felt trapped. Mr. Phillips was capricious enough to react exactly the way Chris suggested.

  “All right. I’ll retrieve the note and hold it for now.”

  “And let me know if you have any insight into that case or any other. I’ve learned my lesson and promise not to give you a hard time about it.”

  After Chris left, Amy went to the law firm mail room. The note was still in the bin for delivery to the post office. She took it out and stuck it in her purse.

  Exactly at noon, Natalie sent Amy a text that she was in front of the office to pick her up. Amy logged off her computer. She passed Janelle’s desk on the way out the front door.

  “If Mr. Phillips asks about me, I’m out to lunch with a friend,” Amy said to the receptionist.

  “He’s been in a meeting with the other partners most of the morning,” Janelle responded in a low whisper. “Something big is going on. Do you know what it is?”

  “Yes, but I can’t say anything about it.”

  “They’re not going to lay off staff, are they? I’ve been here the least time of anyone.”

  “That’s not it. Besides, you do a great job. I wish I could talk to people on the phone as easily as you do. Several clients have mentioned to me how pleasant you are, and you route the calls very efficiently.”

  “Really?” Janelle brightened up. “No one’s ever said anything like that to me. I mean, Ms. Kirkpatrick gave me a little bit of positive feedback at my review but nothing specific.”

  Amy left the office, glad she could at least brighten Janelle’s day. Natalie was parked behind a Mercedes owned by one of the partners.

  “I have a special surprise for you,” she said when Amy opened the passenger door. “Get in.”

  “Something smells good.” Amy glanced over her shoulder into the backseat. “I thought you’d whip together a salad, but you’ve been baking.”

  Natalie pulled away from the office and drove to a red light. The park was to the right, but when the light turned green Natalie took a left.

  “This isn’t the way,” Amy said.

  “It is for where we’re going.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Be patient.”

  Natalie took two more turns. Amy suddenly realized what she had in mind.

  “We’re not going to Ms. Burris’s house, are we?” she asked in alarm.

  “And we’re almost there.”

  Natalie turned onto Ms. Burris’s street. Her house was the second one on the right. Amy held out her hand.

  “Stop!” she said. “I can’t see her. At least not until some things at work are cleared up.”

  “What in the world are you talking about?”

  “It’s confidential, but Mr. Phillips made me promise not to have any contact with Ms. Burris.”

  Natalie pulled the car to the curb.

  “He can do that?” she asked incredulously.

  “Maybe not legally, but I have to agree to what he says if I want to keep my job.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Does Ms. Burris know we’re coming?” Amy asked.

  “Of course she does. I wouldn’t barge in unannounced. She thought it was a wonderful idea. I could tell when you called me last night that you were stressed out, and I thought this would be a good way for you to be encouraged.”

  “You could hear the stress in my voice?”

  “Of course. You hide what’s going to hap
pen in one of your books a lot better than you do your own feelings.”

  Amy took the note she’d written Ms. Burris from her purse and showed the envelope to Natalie.

  “I wrote this last night telling Ms. Burris I couldn’t see her. I was going to mail it today. One of the things I wanted to ask you to do was to keep meeting with her. Some of the bits of wisdom she comes up with really stick with me, and I thought you could share what she said with me.”

  Natalie shook her head. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

  “Totally. I promised Mr. Phillips.” Amy hesitated. “But the reason I didn’t send the note in the noon mail was because one of the other lawyers talked to me this morning and wants a chance to try and change Mr. Phillips’s mind.”

  Natalie, who had picked up her cell phone to call Ms. Burris, dropped it in her lap.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I can’t tell you why the other lawyer wants to talk to Mr. Phillips, but he does.”

  “I’m not following this. I thought lawyers were supposed to be logical.”

  “And they aren’t afraid to disagree. The goal is to argue until the best idea wins out.”

  “Where does that leave us?” Natalie asked. “I have a meat pie with a puff-pastry topping in the backseat that isn’t going to be fit to eat if it isn’t hot.”

  Without saying another word, Amy grabbed her own phone from her purse and punched in a number she knew by heart but rarely called. She silently prayed the person would answer. As soon as the call went through, she started talking rapidly.

  “Mr. Phillips, this is Amy. Do I have your permission to eat a quick lunch with Ms. Burris at her house? A friend set it up without knowing there might be a problem. We’ll only be there a few minutes, and I promise to be completely discreet. It would be socially embarrassing to cancel without an explanation or to give one with my friend present.”

  Amy had never delivered such a fast speech to the senior partner. Usually she chose her words carefully and spoke slowly. Mr. Phillips didn’t immediately respond.

  “We’re parked outside Ms. Burris’s house, and I would appreciate an answer now,” Amy concluded in a rush.

  “Go ahead. But avoid any topics related to firm business.”