To cool off and clear his mind, he decided to walk over to the courthouse. He didn’t have any business to take care of, but he stopped at the clerk’s office to review the file in the Colfax litigation. Date-stamped five minutes before his arrival was the answer and counterclaim filed by Nate Stamper. Ray flipped through the paperwork. It contained standard denials of everything except that Colfax was a corporation doing business in Rusk County. The rest of the allegations were “vigorously denied and strict proof thereof demanded.” The counterclaim for costs and attorney fees would only become a problem if Corbin and Ray weren’t able to at least present a case that would get them past summary judgment and in front of a jury.
Thinking about the cost of obtaining expert witness testimony brought Ray back to how he felt when he left the office—where was the money going to come from?
Still not ready to go back, Ray walked over to the courtroom. He slipped in unnoticed and took a seat. It was a criminal calendar call and motion day, and Brett Dortch was standing in the spot Ray had occupied for the previous six years. Judge Ellington was presiding on the bench. Steve Nelson was nowhere to be seen. Not surprisingly the DA had passed off his duties to Brett without any mentoring.
Ray settled in. Brett was doing his best, but the ability to handle a calendar call and respond to the infinite variety of unexpected issues in motion practice required the skill of an orchestra conductor, and Brett was still learning to read sheet music. Ray watched as a hearing on a motion to suppress evidence painfully unfolded before him. Only Judge Ellington’s seasoned hand on the rudder of justice kept the state’s case from crashing into the rocks.
After the case was finished, the judge called the next case, then suddenly slumped over onto the bench. Ray jumped to his feet as the elderly bailiff made his way over to the judge.
“Someone call 911!” the bailiff shouted out.
Ray made the call as he rushed toward the front of the courtroom. The panic-stricken bailiff was holding Judge Ellington’s head in his hands.
Corbin heard the siren but remained at his desk. The local hospital was six blocks away, and it wasn’t unusual for an ambulance to scream by the office. But the siren didn’t fade into the distance. It was soon joined by another. Corbin stepped over to a window that faced the street and moved aside the blinds. Both ambulances were parked next to the courthouse, which could mean a lot of things. The possibility of violence by an irate litigant or criminal defendant flashed through his mind. He left his office and went into the reception area. Janelle was already standing in the open front door.
“Any idea what’s going on?” Corbin asked.
He brushed past Janelle and stood on the sidewalk to get a better view. The absence of police vehicles calmed his first fears. While he watched, medical personnel exited the side door of the courthouse with a figure on a stretcher and loaded it into one of the ambulances. The siren was still screaming as it left the area. Corbin was about to turn away and go back inside when he saw Ray come out the same door of the courthouse as the stretcher.
Corbin crossed the street without checking for oncoming cars, and a honking horn caused him to jump out of the way of an approaching vehicle. The driver raised one of his hands in exasperation, but Corbin ignored him and walked rapidly toward his son.
“It’s Judge Ellington,” Ray said. “He collapsed on the bench.”
“Any idea what’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure, but it looked serious. The EMTs put him on oxygen, and from what I could tell he wasn’t responding to their questions.”
Roxy knew she was going to be late for work and didn’t care. Peter waited while she showered and dressed, then they drank coffee together on her little patio.
“If I’d been at church maybe none of that would have happened,” Peter said.
Roxy shook her head. “I’ve been more of a crybaby around you than I have in my entire life. One sympathetic look from you when the tears started to flow would have breached the dam.”
“It sounds like it had already been breached.”
“True,” Roxy agreed. “It was totally embarrassing.”
Peter took a sip of coffee. “So while you were getting dressed I thought some more about your tears and what they might mean.”
“Decided to play counselor and amateur psychologist after all?”
“If you don’t want to hear—”
“Ignore me,” Roxy interrupted. “I’m acting like this because I’m feeling insecure and vulnerable, which is exactly opposite of how I want to feel. I’m listening.”
“Are you sure?” Peter looked skeptical.
“Yes. I mean it,” she reiterated, speaking rapidly. “And I won’t get mad if you say it has something to do with releasing the pain caused by my father that I’ve kept bottled up all these years and softening my heart so I’m willing to consider that God loves me even though I’m not sure he exists.”
“Yeah,” Peter said, wide-eyed. “That’s what I was going to say, only you did it a lot better.”
“Well, let’s do this,” Roxy said as she shifted in her chair with nervous energy. “I’m ready.”
“For what?”
“To move on to the next thing. Currently I’m stuck wondering when I’m next going to burst into tears. What if it happens in court? Or worse, in a trial strategy meeting with Mr. Caldweller? It’d be easier to explain an emotional breakdown to a judge than to him.”
“What is the next thing?” Peter asked, the amazed look still on his face.
“I don’t know.” Roxy threw up her hands in exasperation. “But you got me started down this road with your incredible, sensitive comments, and you can’t leave me like this. It’s not right!”
THIRTY-NINE
Corbin and Ray returned to the office together. The sight of Judge Ellington leaving the courthouse on a stretcher made Corbin pensive. The same thing could unexpectedly happen to him at any time. He listened as Ray told Janelle what happened.
“If he’s had a heart attack or stroke, what will they do about the cases on his docket?” she asked.
“Judge Perry will take them,” Ray said, then turned to his father. “Including the lawsuit you just filed against Colfax.”
Ray’s comment jerked Corbin back from thoughts about his own mortality. The demise of the claim for the two boys was a more imminent possibility.
“All the more reason why I need to get an expert on board as soon as possible,” Corbin said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
At noon Corbin’s stomach growled. He was hungry but there was something he wanted more than food. The beast within was off its leash and out of its cage. A glass of mountain water along with a bowl of red beans and rice at Red’s sounded better than an aged steak topped with sautéed mushrooms accompanied by a glass of fine red wine. Corbin licked his lips. His mouth felt bone dry.
He got up from his desk and went into the reception area. The door to Ray’s office was closed, and Janelle was already on her lunch break. Corbin had his hand on the handle for the front door when a voice stopped him.
“Could we have lunch together?” Ray asked, sticking his head out the door of his office.
“I have plans,” Corbin said.
“If they include red beans and rice, I’m up for that. And I have some good news.”
Corbin had to conduct a split-second evaluation of the situation. If he blew Ray off it would send a clear message that Red’s bootleg liquor still held the reins, which would affect his access to Billy.
“Sure,” he said. “I should have checked with you anyway.”
Corbin tried to mask his grumpiness as they walked down the street. Ray talked about several cases he’d been working on since returning from the courthouse, including one that he hoped to settle by the end of the week.
“I saw your note that we might be able to recover $10,000 total,” Ray said as they waited for a light to turn. “I talked to the insurance adjuster and believe she’s going to offer $4
0,000. That means our fee will be $10,000.”
The news was good enough to slightly improve Corbin’s mood. They arrived at Red’s and sat in a booth Sally usually served. The waitress appeared with two regular waters and raised her eyebrows at Corbin.
“Anything else to drink for you gentlemen?” she asked.
“I’ll have sweet tea,” Ray added.
“Naw, I’m good,” Corbin grunted.
“I can see that,” Sally replied. “Ready to order your food?”
After she left Ray rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. “Thanks for letting me spoil your party,” he said.
“What party?” Corbin replied, feigning ignorance.
Ray gave a slight smirk that made Corbin wish his son was still young enough for a spanking. They sat in silence until Sally returned with the food. Ray bowed his head and said a blessing, which made Corbin think about the prayer he’d uttered sitting on the front steps of his duplex.
“I prayed the other day,” Corbin said. “It’s part of my work on the second step of AA.”
“Can you tell me more?”
Corbin relaxed and shared with Ray what he’d been learning. Repeating it outside the walls of an AA meeting room made it seem more tangible. Ray listened as intently as a juror in a murder trial, which encouraged Corbin to keep going. He finished the bowl of red beans and rice without noticing whether it was a good batch or not.
Ray had a questioning look on his face.
“Go ahead and ask me,” Corbin said.
Ray took a sip of water. “Dad, do you remember your first drink?”
Corbin didn’t have to search the ancient files of his memory to locate what had been a life-altering moment.
He nodded. “Yes, I do. I was barely fifteen. A friend and I snitched a bottle of whiskey from his father’s liquor cabinet and went behind a barn to try it out. When the liquor hit my brain, it was like a light switch flipped on—a switch I didn’t know existed.” Corbin paused as in his mind’s eye he returned to the scene. “I felt fully alive for the first time in my life. I saw things more clearly; I could talk without getting tongue-tied; I believed I could do anything I wanted to do. I’ve always hoped the next drink would take me back to the place that whiskey took me. Sometimes it did. Most of the time it didn’t.”
During the walk back to the office, Ray couldn’t get his father’s words out of his head. He repeated them to Cindy as soon as the two of them were alone at the kitchen table later that evening.
“It was a very strange feeling,” he said. “As if I was talking to the real man for the first time in my life. He’s spent our entire relationship hiding behind a curtain, pretending. Today at the lunch table he gave me a peek of who he is and what’s made him that way.”
“Like the Wizard of Oz.”
“I wish it were that benign.”
“I didn’t mean to make light of it,” Cindy replied. “What’s next?”
Ray leaned back in his chair. “I’m not sure. Today I forced my way between him and a stiff shot of moonshine at Red’s, but that’s not possible on a 24–7 basis. I can only hope that he’ll continue with AA.”
“Hasn’t he stopped drinking?”
“I think so, but I think it’ll be better if he tells me about his progress on his own terms. Otherwise it will seem like I’m pressuring him.”
“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing with him and Billy? And why you grabbed him before he slipped out of the office to drink at lunch?”
“Yeah,” Ray admitted.
“And both of those were the right thing to do. Don’t get too passive. For a lawyer you sure do try to avoid conflict.”
“ ’Cause I’m a peacemaker,” Ray said, then leaned forward to give Cindy a quick kiss. “And a lover.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then show me your love by helping me clean up the kitchen. I ran out of energy late this afternoon but wasn’t able to grab thirty minutes for a short nap.”
“Sit in the den and relax while I work,” Ray said, standing up.
“I’m a submissive wife,” Cindy replied with a smile. “You won’t get an argument from me.”
Instead of heading home at five o’clock, Corbin drove to the hospital to check on Judge Ellington.
“He’s in ICU,” the volunteer at the desk told him when Corbin asked for the room number. “No visitors except close family members are allowed.”
Corbin took the elevator to the ICU, which was on the third floor of the small hospital. He knew the judge had a son and a daughter who were in their thirties, both of whom lived in the Atlanta area. As he stepped off the elevator, he saw a man who resembled the judge, and introduced himself. It was indeed Judge Ellington’s son, there with his wife.
“How is he?” Corbin asked.
“Too soon to know,” the man replied. “He had a cerebral hemorrhage. The neurosurgeon says it depends on the amount of bleeding, where it’s located, and whether they can get it under control. My mom’s with him now.”
Corbin stayed for a few minutes then left. He was walking down the hallway when he heard someone call his name. Corbin stopped, and Jimmy Broome came up to him.
“What brings you up here?” Corbin asked.
“Judge Ellington.”
Corbin told Jimmy what he’d learned about the judge’s condition. “How do you know him?” Corbin asked when he finished.
“He’s one of the main reasons I started going to AA. It was part of my sentence when I had my second DUI. I was looking at six months of jail time that would have cost my job and who knows what else. I’d been to AA a few times before the arrest, and my sponsor came with me to court. The judge knew him and gave me one last chance. So far I haven’t blown it.”
“Who was your sponsor?”
Jimmy mentioned a man Corbin knew slightly.
“I didn’t know he was an alcoholic.”
“He’s been sober for over thirty years. He agreed to sponsor me when I was less than thirty days into the program.”
Jimmy had to be at least fifteen years younger than Corbin, but in some ways he seemed older and wiser. An idea crossed Corbin’s mind.
“Would you consider being my sponsor?” he asked.
“Why would I want to do that?”
Corbin jerked his head back in surprise. “Because I asked you, I guess.”
“That’s not why you get a sponsor. There’s only one reason for that.”
Corbin thought for a moment. “Because I want to stop drinking.”
“Yeah, that’s why AA exists. To help one alcoholic at a time find the path to sobriety. If that’s what you want, I’d be honored to sponsor you.”
Corbin heard a sound behind him, and they moved out of the way as a man about Corbin’s age was rolled by on a gurney. There were tubes coming out all over the man’s body. An IV was attached to his arm, and there was an oxygen tank affixed to the rolling bed.
“I’m not as sick as that guy,” Corbin said when the man continued down the hall. “But I know I’m going to need help to beat this thing.”
“You’re both right and wrong,” Jimmy replied. “You’re right that you need help, but you’re wrong about your condition. Like the rest of us in AA, you’re way sicker than you realize.”
“Okay.” Corbin nodded.
“Okay, what?” Jimmy asked, looking directly into Corbin’s eyes.
Corbin took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’m powerless over alcohol and my life has become unmanageable. I want to stop drinking.”
Jimmy smiled and took his cell phone out of his pocket.
“Great. As your sponsor I’m here for you 24–7. What are all your contact numbers?”
Roxy made it through the day without manifesting the emotional meltdown she’d feared. That included a two-hour meeting with Mr. Caldweller during which two other women, a paralegal and an associate more junior that Roxy, fought back tears when confronted with their failures in a recent round of discovery disputes in a hotly contested case
. Caldweller had prepared a PowerPoint presentation that illustrated their mistakes. It was a brutal beatdown that grew worse as each slide came into view.
“The public thinks trial is the focal point of litigation,” Caldweller growled when he finished going over the final slide. “But discovery is where the main battles are fought and the war is won or lost. And it’s a war of attrition. Our client pays us to make the other side pay more to their lawyers than they pay us. Can you remember that in the future?”
“Yes, sir,” the associate responded, her voice quivering slightly.
“You’d better.”
Roxy listened stoically. When Caldweller’s attention turned toward her to discuss the Boren litigation, she found herself strangely calm. She went over what she’d done in discovery per his instructions to make things tough for the other side in hopes that the case could be settled.
She could feel the animosity radiating toward her from the female associate who’d just been chewed out. Caldweller listened without interrupting until Roxy finished.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” he said to the room. “How many of you were taking notes?”
No one raised a hand. Caldweller paused as if gathering momentum for a volcanic eruption. Even Roxy found herself holding her breath. The senior partner put both hands on the table and scanned the room.
“That’s all for today. You can leave.”
Everyone stood up, and then Caldweller spoke again.
“Roxy, stay for a minute. I have another matter to discuss with you.”
FORTY
The following morning Ray again went by the post office to pick up the mail. Included in the stack of bills and letters was the answer filed by Nate Stamper in the Colfax litigation. Ray knew what it contained and didn’t bother to open it. Back at the office the phone rang. Janelle wasn’t there yet, so he answered it.
A House Divided Page 28
