Greater Love

by Robert Whitlow

  “Did you used to spy on me?”

  “Only a few times.”

  “Have you checked your e-mail this morning?”

  “No, I don’t have any access at Mrs. Fairmont’s house.”

  “You should get online as soon as you get to the office. Vince received the bar results yesterday afternoon.”

  My stomach flipped sideways then wrapped in a knot.

  “Did he pass?”

  “Of course. Who would have any doubt about that?”

  I remembered how pale and sick Vince looked the first day of the test.

  “The list of everyone who passed was posted early this morning,” Zach continued. “I’m looking at it right now.”

  I took a deep breath. “Let me have it.”

  “Don’t be silly. You passed. So did Julie.”

  I let out a huge sigh of relief and raised one hand in the air while keeping the other on the steering wheel.

  “Thank you, Lord!” I exclaimed.

  “Yeah, I remember how I felt. Was it okay for me to tell you instead of letting you find out on your own?”

  “I’d rather get the news instantly instead of enduring the agony of opening the e-mail.”

  “Good. We should celebrate. Maybe the four of us could get together for dinner tonight.”

  “Four?”

  “Vince, Julie, you, and me. I’ll talk to Vince. You check with Julie and call me later.”

  “Where would you want to go?”

  “Vince and I will discuss it. I’ll pick up the tab.”

  “Okay,” I answered slowly. “We’ll talk this afternoon.”

  After we hung up, I checked the time. Daddy would be on his way to work, but I called Mama and shared the good news with her. She took it calmly, but when she told the twins I could hear their screams.

  “They’re happy for you,” Mama said. “I am, too. Do you want me to hold off telling your daddy?”

  I thought for a moment. Expecting the twins to keep a secret was unrealistic.

  “No. Let him know. I’ll phone tonight and give you a report about my first day on the job.”

  I PULLED INTO THE PARKING LOT WITH A SENSE OF SATISFACTION. As soon as I was sworn in by one of the local superior court judges I would, in one way at least, be as much a lawyer as Oscar Callahan or Joe Carpenter.

  The sign in front of the building still read Smith Law Offices. Now that Julie had passed the bar exam, it would be changed to Smith and Feldman. Whether my name joined theirs wasn’t a question that would be answered for a while. Sister Dabney’s prophecy about the three of us forming a cord of three strands might hold the promise of a partnership.

  It wasn’t quite eight o’clock, and no one else had arrived. I got out of the car, then stopped to laugh at myself. I might be smart enough to pass the bar exam, but I’d not arranged with Maggie to get a key to the office. There was nothing to do but wait. I walked slowly around the outside of the building, praying that God would bless all that I might do there. I was on my third circuit when another car pulled into the parking lot. A woman I didn’t recognize got out and gave me a puzzled look. She was in her mid-thirties with short hair dyed blonde.

  “Tami?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Shannon Carver.”

  “I drove to the office then realized I didn’t have a key,” I said.

  “No problem. A key is in a packet of stuff I have for you inside.”

  We walked to the door.

  “Maggie says you’re working as receptionist, secretary, and bookkeeper,” I said. “That’s a lot of jobs to keep straight.”

  “Is that what she says? Maybe I should ask for a raise.”

  I glanced sideways and saw she wasn’t smiling.

  “Will you always get here before eight?” Shannon continued as she unlocked the door.

  “Sometimes earlier. I’m a morning person.”

  “Ugh. I’m not, but I have to get up at the crack of dawn to get my kids ready for school and day care. It’s a thirty-minute drive from the day-care facility to school, then another fifteen minutes to the office.”

  Shannon wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. A single mother juggling responsibilities with children could be a more difficult task than performing the three jobs assigned to her at the office.

  Inside the office there were now pictures on the walls of the reception area and a nice area rug on top of the bland carpet. Brass lamps rested on shiny end tables. An attractive sofa and three side chairs surrounded a coffee table.

  “It looks better,” I said.

  “Yeah, it’s coming along. Opening a new law office is brutal.”

  Shannon’s office was behind the reception area. There was an opening in the wall so she would see when someone entered. Her desk was piled high with papers and files. At least Maggie appeared busy. A picture frame contained photos of two little boys taken at the beach.

  “Are those your sons?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “They’re cute.”

  “Not when they fight or refuse to eat their cereal. This morning combined a fight with a refusal to eat cereal, and the younger one ended up with a bowl of milk on top of his head. He had to take a second shower.”

  Ellie and Emma occasionally disagreed, but I couldn’t imagine one of them dumping a bowl of milk on the other’s head, even when they were younger. That level of anarchy was unthinkable in our household.

  “Sorry you’ve had such a rough morning.”

  “It’s typical. Here’s your stuff.” She handed me an envelope. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

  Shannon sat down and turned on her computer. I stayed by her desk.

  “Any idea when Maggie or Julie will be here?”

  “If you wait until I boot up I can check Maggie’s calendar. Julie comes in when she pleases. It depends how late she stays out the night before.”

  If Julie already knew the results of the bar exam, it would have been reason for a late-night celebration and morning hangover.

  “Maggie had several cases on a hearing calendar first thing,” Shannon said after a few moments. “She may have gone directly to the courthouse.”

  “What kind of hearings?”

  “DUI cases. Ever since Maggie ran an ad in the paper, the calls have been pouring in.”

  “She advertises for DUI cases?”

  “Yeah.”

  Shannon took a folded newspaper out of the stack on her desk. She opened it and handed it to me. In the bottom corner was an advertisement featuring the line “DUI??? Former Assistant DA Now Ready to Work for You.”

  “She prosecuted hundreds of them and knows the ins and outs of the system, which cops do a good job and those who are sloppy. It makes sense that she would flip to the defense side.”

  The phone rang.

  “That’s probably another one,” Shannon said, picking up the phone. “Smith Law Offices.” She listened for a few seconds. “Breathalyzer or blood test?” She was quiet again. “Okay. Who was the arresting officer and when’s your court date?”

  I made my way down the short hallway, the thrill of passing the bar exam slightly squelched by the reality that a law license could be used to represent people irresponsible enough to drink and drive and jeopardize the lives of innocent people.

  I passed Maggie’s office on the left. It, too, had been spruced up. The conference room on the right had two more pictures on the walls but was basically unchanged. It contained a simple table surrounded by six chairs and bore no resemblance to the splendid meeting room at Braddock, Appleby, and Carpenter with its shiny wooden table, thick carpet, and original oil paintings on the walls.

  My office was next. When I’d visited before, it had been an empty room except for a copy machine. The copy machine was gone, and in its place was a simple wooden desk with a secretarial chair behind it. A desktop computer and printer sat on a side table. The walls were bare. There weren’t any chairs in front of the desk. No bookcases, no cred
enza, no window to let in natural light. I entered slowly and sat down. I put the packet of materials on a used desk that had several obvious scratches. If God was going to help me build a law practice, we would begin at the most basic level.

  I turned on the computer and encountered an immediate problem. Access was password-protected. I started to go ask Shannon, then decided I should check my packet first. Inside was a copy of the employment agreement I’d signed, information about the firm’s health insurance policy, a holiday schedule, and the codes I would need to operate the copy machine, postage meter, and my computer. I entered the access information into the computer. As soon as I was online, I checked my personal e-mail and saw the heading regarding the results of the bar exam. Even though I knew what it contained, there was still an anxious moment as I clicked it open and read the congratulatory message. I printed out a copy and used it to cover up the worst scratch on the desk. I moved my phone a few inches to cover up another one. It took a few more minutes to set up my computer. As I finished, the phone on my desk buzzed. I jumped, the abrupt sound loud in the small room.

  “Tami, can you hear me?” Shannon asked.

  I picked up the receiver.

  “Yes.”

  “I think you have a client here to see you.”

  “I don’t have any clients.”

  “Were you expecting someone to come by the office?”

  “Nobody knows I would be here.”

  Shannon lowered her voice. “Should I tell them you’re not in?”

  Getting Shannon to lie about my whereabouts was not how I wanted to start my career.

  “No, I’ll come out.”

  Puzzled, I left my office and stepped into the hallway.

  I ENTERED THE WAITING ROOM. IT WAS SISTER DABNEY. DRESSED in a baggy brown dress with her gray hair unkempt and a frown on her face, she was inspecting the reading material on the coffee table. It was littered with gossip magazines, probably placed there for female divorce clients. I tensed for a sharp rebuke that would give Shannon something else to think about besides her sons fighting at the breakfast table.

  “This is the place of women?” Sister Dabney asked.

  “Yes.”

  Shannon was staring, not pretending to work.

  “Is she one of the lawyers?” Sister Dabney pointed her finger in the direction of the opening in the wall.

  “No, that’s Shannon Carver. She’s the secretary, receptionist, and bookkeeper.” I motioned to the woman preacher. “This is Ramona Dabney. I met her last summer. She has a church on Gillespie Street and helps a lot of poor people.”

  The woman preacher fixed her gaze on Shannon, who quickly lowered her head. My heart pounded as I waited for a public exposé of Shannon’s sins. Trying to explain to Maggie why her office worker quit within an hour of my arrival would be a challenge. Sister Dabney stood in front of the opening in the wall.

  “Would you take him back?” Sister Dabney asked.

  “Who?” Shannon responded with a puzzled look.

  “Your husband.”

  Shannon’s face went pale.

  “Do you know Peter?”

  “A new wind is blowing across his life. The changes are real. And the boys need him.”

  Shannon looked at me with desperation in her eyes. “Tami, this woman has no right to talk to me about my personal life!”

  “Is anybody in your life telling you the truth?” Sister Dabney continued.

  I stepped forward and lightly touched Sister Dabney on the arm.

  “Could we go back to the conference room?”

  Sister Dabney pushed a piece of stray hair away from her face. I led her down the short hall into the conference room, then closed the door after her. I stuck my head in Shannon’s office. She was dabbing a tissue to her eyes.

  “Are you okay?”

  She spun around. “I don’t want to talk to that woman again! When she gets ready to leave, tell me so I can hide.”

  “All right.”

  I returned to the conference room. Sister Dabney had placed her large black pocketbook on the table. I sat across the table from her. I realized that I’d forgotten to bring a legal pad to take notes but didn’t want to leave her alone to get one.

  “Why are you here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

  “Why are you here?” she responded evenly.

  “This is where I’m going to work unless I get fired because you scared the receptionist to death.”

  “Repentance leads to life. The wages of sin is death. The choice is hers.”

  I took a deep breath. “That approach to people doesn’t always work.”

  Sister Dabney leaned forward. “My way of plain speaking is better than standing by silently while someone’s life is ruined. When the Lord gives me revelation, I have to speak it or pray it.”

  “Why didn’t you just pray it?”

  “Because I know the difference. We can’t judge the effect of a word at the time it’s given. It’s like a seed that needs time to grow and mature. Then its fruit can be judged.”

  Sister Dabney was speaking calmly, and it was hard to disagree with her reasoning. However, the emotional impact of her methods was hard to accept.

  “Well, you’ve spoken to Shannon. Is that why you’re here?”

  Sister Dabney leaned back in her chair and seemed to relax. “No, I came to see you. I spoke into this situation for you and want you to get started with a firm foundation.”

  “Rebuking Shannon made it shaky, not firm.”

  Sister Dabney’s eyes flashed with fire.

  “I’m sorry,” I added hastily. “I’m used to being different myself and having people react negatively to me. It’s just that you’re more different than I am.”

  The fire faded from the older woman’s eyes.

  “That’s true. And you’re not supposed to copy me. But there will come a time when you will know what the Lord wants you to do before it happens, and you’ll need to be ready to cooperate with the gift.”

  I believed in foreknowledge. Mama knew she was having twins long before the doctor confirmed there were two babies in her womb.

  “Is that how you knew I’d arrived in Savannah?”

  “No, I looked up Mrs. Fairmont’s phone number and called before I left the house.”

  I cracked a smile. At least the woman preacher needed to use a phone book.

  “You can also be called to a situation without advance warning,” Sister Dabney continued. “The main thing is to walk in God’s way.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And it’s important that the firstfruits of your work as a lawyer be offered to God.”

  Sister Dabney stared at me for a few seconds without speaking. I suddenly had an idea why she’d come to see me and decided to test my new insight.

  “If you want me to help you, I’m sure I could do it without charging anything. I mean, I’d have to talk to the other lawyers in the firm, but when I explain—”

  “No, the Lord was my lawyer when the other law firm sued me last summer,” she said, interrupting me. “I’m going to stick with him.”

  “Okay,” I said, slightly embarrassed. “Maybe I can help someone who goes to your church.”

  Sister Dabney paused. “We’ll see. The work of the kingdom is based on a sacrifice that costs you something. Don’t forget.”

  “I won’t.”

  I excused myself from the conference room to warn Shannon that Sister Dabney was coming out. The secretary was staring at photos on her computer monitor. I caught a glimpse of her sons and a man I assumed was her husband before she quickly closed the screen.

  “She’s going to leave now,” I said.

  “Then I’m heading to the break room,” Shannon said briskly. “I hope you don’t have any other clients like that woman. Strange people have come in here, but she is the most bizarre—” Shannon didn’t finish the sentence.

  I escorted Sister Dabney to the door. Before leaving, she turned to me. />
  “Are you coming to the church on Sunday?”

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to commit to Southside Church without praying about other options.

  “There’s a reason you’re supposed to be there,” Sister Dabney continued.

  “Should I come alone?”

  “No, the purpose of the meeting is to share the good news with as many people as possible.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there.”

  I watched Sister Dabney walk slowly across the parking lot. As she reached her vehicle, I saw Julie speed into the parking lot. She hopped out of her car and watched intently as Sister Dabney got in hers. A few seconds later Julie burst through the door.

  “Was that who I think it was?”

  “Probably.”

  “What was she doing here?”

  “She came by to see me.”

  “And ruin my day,” Shannon added through the opening in the wall.

  “I thought you were in the break room,” I said.

  “I peeked and heard you tell her good-bye.”

  “Did Sister Dabney let out one of her bloodcurdling yells?” Julie asked. “Remember when she did that during her deposition in the Paulding case?”

  “Yes,” I said wearily. “I was there and told you about it. Other­wise, you might not know about it. She didn’t do any yelling this morning.”

  “But she told me I should get back together with Peter,” Shannon said. “Without any idea what he did to me.”

  “She asked you if you would take him back,” I corrected. “Maybe he’s changed.”

  “Do you know what Peter did?” Julie asked me.

  “No.”

  Julie turned to Shannon. “Tami means well, but remember what I told you the other day. She comes from an extremely religious background, maybe even a cult. If you approach her ideas from a sociological point of view, it can even be interesting to listen to her. Just don’t take her opinions too seriously. That’s how we survived working in the same room together last summer. I didn’t agree with her; she didn’t agree with me. But Tami’s beliefs won’t keep her from being a good lawyer. She’s got this schizophrenic ability to separate her legal reasoning from her attachment to the Bible.”