by E M Bannock
That was the hardest part about being away from him. They spoke on the phone a couple of times a week. Hearing his voice was a comfort, but she missed the touch, feel, and smell of him, and especially the physical closeness of sex.
Through the years of marriage they always kept the spark of excitement alive in the bedroom. Both were still adventurous and, between the two of them, it was just about anything goes. If they liked it, they added it to their repertoire. If they didn’t, it was a one-time deal. They had tried almost all the positions of the Kama Sutra. Some they passed on because it seemed that only contortionist could get into the twisted positions. They experimented with toys of all kinds, a little SMDS, role-playing, and porn.
They weren’t afraid to masturbate in front of each other. In fact, Zoey found that particularly erotic. She loved watching Mickey’s muscular arm pump as he slid his hand up and down on his erect shaft. She loved seeing the pleasure on his face when his eyes closed, concentrating on his gratification. Perspiration beading up on his forehead as he bit his lower lip and exploded in orgasmic bliss.
Her sexual recollection was interrupted by the buzz of the intercom on her desk. She picked up her phone. “What is it, Annette?” she asked.
Annette Barrand was her personal assistant and office manager. She had applied for the position right after graduating from Oakland Community College with an Associate degree in Business Administration. She was born and raised in the general vicinity, and had a feel for the people who lived there.
Annette was plain-looking by most standards, with wavy, dirty blonde hair that swished around her face like a gentle breeze. It was never really quite styled, it just hung there. It brushed past her shoulders and fell wherever it pleased. It suited her. She had sparkling blue eyes that made you feel you could trust her. She dressed modestly, but with no particular flair for style or femininity. She usually wore slacks. Although meticulous in her looks, she was not pretentious. She didn’t wear makeup, just a little lipstick to give her face color. She was rather tall, at least 5’9”. Annette spent a great deal of time at the gym and was in prime shape. She could take care of herself.
Annette lived in Berkley and had worked part time at the construction company Zoey hired to do the renovations on the building she had just leased for her office. Annette was looking for a full time job, something the construction company decided they couldn’t give her. It was a thriving business, and it puzzled Zoey when they refused to hire Annette full time after graduation. After she got to know the situation, she had a sneaking suspicion the only reason they didn’t hire Annette was because she’d announced to the world that she was a lesbian. Annette took a chance and asked Zoey for the job. The two women hit it off right away and Zoey hired her.
She found Annette to be competent, trustworthy, and loyal. She had good people skills and made Zoey’s clients feel at ease and important. Zoey always knew the office was in good hands when she was traveling or was otherwise away. Annette managed the two legal clerks who also worked in the office. Zoey paid Annette well, but she earned it.
Annette was able to start working for Zoey the day she put out her shingle. Zoey opened her modest office in Berkley, a peaceful, middle-class city close to Birmingham, because she felt it would be less intimidating for clients to come there rather than Birmingham. Her hourly rate was half of what most divorce attorneys charged. She felt the process of divorce was traumatic enough without adding to the devastation with an outrageous bill for legal services. And Mickey made enough money for them both. She really didn’t have to work, but she wanted to.
This allowed her to be selective in the clients she chose to represent. She was aware that there were plenty of good mothers and an abundance of dead-beat and unfit dads out there, and if she truly felt shared custody was in the best interest of the child, she negotiated for it. Although she never represented women, she also didn’t represent men she considered unqualified as a parent. Annette had a nickname for this type of man, referring to them as ‘dick-heads’. They were never welcome in the law office.
“Joanne Morgan is on line one. She said she needs to speak with you.”
That was strange. Joanne never called her at work. It had been several months since the two women spoke. She hoped it wasn’t bad news. “I’ll take it, Annette. Thank you.” She pressed the blinking light that connected her to line one. “Joanne, good to hear from you. Why are you calling on my business line? Is everything all right?”
“Oh, Zoey, I’m so glad you’re in. No, everything isn’t all right. It’s Jonathan. His marriage just fell apart and we need you.” Joanne began sobbing uncontrollably.
Sadness filled Zoey’s heart. Jonathan had married late in life, barely two years prior. Mickey had flown in so that they could attend the wedding.
Jonathan had become a good friend. He was a handsome, smart guy with a great job at GM. He married a girl he met in Florida on vacation with friends just six months before. Her name was Rhonda Kruger. All Zoey knew about her was what Joanne told her at the wedding. Ronnie, as she liked to be called, came from a dysfunctional family in Pasco County, Florida. Her mother was an alcoholic and her father was always running around on his wife. Ronnie told Joanne that her father used to sleep with the single mothers of her high school friends, and a few married ones, too. The first time Zoey saw her was at the wedding, and she remembered the strange vibe she got from her. There was something about her eyes, shifty or sneaky, something that made Zoey feel uneasy. She didn’t trust her. She only saw her a handful of times since then, holidays and Jonathan’s and her son’s baptism, and every time Zoey got the same vibe.
Rhonda was cold and impersonal and made no attempt to befriend Zoey, even though she knew that Zoey and Mickey were long time family friends. Joanne had always blamed it on Rhonda’s upbringing. “She’s had a rough life,” she would defend. “She doesn’t know what family is all about. Give her time. She’ll warm up to us.” This told Zoey she still hadn’t ‘warmed up’ to Joanne and Lenny.
Planned or not, Rhonda was two months pregnant when she married Jonathan. She worked as a bartender at a dive bar in Livonia, close to Joanne and Lenny’s house, and didn’t stop working until the baby was born. She went back to work three weeks later. Joanne didn’t like the fact that Rhonda smoked cigarettes, and even though she told Joanne she quit she was still exposed to second-hand smoke at the bar. Joanne was equally upset by Rhonda’s drinking. She swore she quit drinking, too, but considering she drank to excess at her wedding, knowing she was pregnant, Joanne doubted that she could be sober working as a bartender. Whenever Joanne brought up the subject of the baby’s health to Jonathan, he would get defensive and tell her to butt out.
Now it appeared as though the whole thing had come to a head. Joanne stopped crying long enough to blow her nose. Zoey tried to comfort her friend. “Joanne, sweetie, take it easy. Of course I’ll help. Now calm down and tell me what happened.”
“It’s horrible,” Joanne said, half-weeping. “Two days ago Jonathan caught Ronnie in bed with his best friend, Jacob. They had a big blowout and she left him. She left the baby, too.”
Zoey broke in. “What do you mean she left the baby, too?”
“Well, I didn’t know about what happened, and Ronnie dropped little Jon off here yesterday at noon like she always did, but she never came back for him. When Jonathan came home from work last night, he was frantic. He called me and I told him I had the baby. Then he told me what happened. He told me about finding her in bed with Jacob the day before and the fight. He said they’d agreed to try to work things out, but when he came home he found a note on the counter. All it said was, ‘I hate you. Good-bye.’ He thought she’d taken the baby, too. I assured him that little Jon was safe with me. What kind of mother leaves a one-year-old child?”
“Not a very good one, hon.” Zoey tried to calm her friend. In reality, Zoey saw this many, many times in her years of practice. “Listen, Joanne, we can talk about the details later. It’s very
important that Jonathan be the first one to file for divorce. He also needs to get an Emergency Temporary Custody Order. Tell him to be in my office at 8 o’clock tomorrow morning and I’ll have the paperwork ready. And tell him under no circumstances is he to talk to her or give her the baby.”
“Thank you, Zoey. I didn’t know who else to call. I couldn’t sleep last night. I’m a mess.” Joanne sounded relieved but worn out.
“You did the right thing. I handle this kind of case all the time,” Zoey said reassuringly. “I’ll take good care of Jonathan. I’ll do everything I can. Do you still have the baby?”
“No, Jonathan has him,” Joanne answered. “He’s understandably upset and couldn’t go to work today. They’re coming over tonight after Lenny gets home from work.”
“Good,” Zoey said. “You need to rest up today. Jonathan is going to need you to help care for that baby until this is over. It’s going to be a rough road, but I’ll help you every step of the way.”
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Joanne said. Zoey could tell she was on the verge of crying again.
“You don’t have to. I’m happy to help. I’m your friend.”
She hung up the phone and buzzed for Annette. “Annette, clear my calendar for tomorrow and schedule an 8 AM appointment with Jonathan Baker. Please prepare an Emergency Ex Parte Order naming Jonathan Baker as the plaintiff against Rhonda Baker, defendant. The two have one child, Jonathan Baker, Jr. I want to ask the Court to give Rhonda two-hour supervised visitations on the first and third Tuesdays of every month, with CASA in charge.” CASA was the acronym for Court Appointed Special Advocate. Other attorneys liked to use CIS, Crisis Intervention Services, but Zoey felt that most of that organization’s local staff seemed to consist of women who had gone through nasty divorces and had a reputation of being man-haters. She even saw one CIS worker lie in court to protect a woman who had no business getting custody of her children. At best, the local chapter was less then impartial. The women at CASA were, in general, a bit more focused on the child’s legitimate needs and safety rather than revenge. “I’ll get the birth date details and anything else we need tomorrow,” she added as a final note.
“I’m on it,” replied the voice on the intercom. Zoey hung up the phone and looked at the clock. It was almost twelve. She decided to have a quick lunch and finish up any other business in the afternoon. She wanted to be able to concentrate on Jonathan’s case exclusively the next day. She knew other women like Rhonda, and this was going to be a tough case. A challenge. They lie on the stand and work the system to their advantage. But this was Joanne’s brother and her friend, and Zoey wasn’t going to let him down.
Chapter 4
It was a hectic week. Jonathan’s divorce took up most of Zoey’s time. She filed the divorce papers claiming infidelity, desertion, and irreconcilable differences. The Emergency Temporary Custody Order was granted by the Court and in place, giving Jonathan’s estranged wife, Rhonda, the bi-weekly, two-hour supervised visitations with CASA Zoey had asked for. The supervised visits would be held at the CASA office. This way they could be video-recorded.
A GAL, Guardian Ad Litem, had been assigned at Zoey’s request. This was a court-appointed attorney to represent Jonathan, Jr. and his interests. The appointed GAL, Lucy Banks, had no allegiance to either parent, making her a non-partial voice in their private battle, fighting only for the child involved. Lucy would have access to all the court files and evidence. She would hold interviews and submit opinions in court that held a lot of weight. Zoey found that in at least 80% of her cases the judge based his decree on the GAL’s opinion. It was vital that the GAL be on Jonathan’s side. Zoey had worked with most of the GALs and found them to be honest and fair, and Lucy certainly seemed like a conscientious and experienced advocate. Most GALs had been exposed to enough divorce cases to be able to tell who the fit parent really was. It was a good card to hold in this game.
Zoey went to the bar where Rhonda worked, a dark, dank little place called Smokey’s Lounge, and came across some interesting facts about her from her very eager-to-rat-her-out co-workers. Big surprise, none of them really liked Rhonda. It seemed she was always hitting on the customers, especially if she knew they had money. Some of the women were sure she’d had sex with several of the male customers in the back of her Yukon. They told Zoey that Rhonda constantly flirted with their boyfriends. One woman was quite vocal in pointing the finger at Rhonda for her recent split with her piece-of-shit fiancé. The co-worker caught Rhonda and her now ex-fiancé having sex in the Yukon, in the parking lot no less. A few ladies told Zoey they had complained to their boss, Smokey, about her. It was suspected that Rhonda kept her job because she was having sex with him as well. No one at the bar was surprised to hear that Rhonda’s marriage fell apart. Apparently, she’d made no secret of the fact that she hated being a wife and mother, claiming she’d never wanted to get pregnant. It was an accident on a drunken night, but she figured the baby would be an asset in a divorce.
Rhonda hired an attorney, Phillip Cahill, a young sleaze-ball type. Zoey saw his picture and advertisements on the back of bus stop benches. He’d only been in practice a few years, and thought of himself as a kind of ladies’ man. She figured Rhonda would go for someone like that. No doubt she would pay most of her attorney’s fees on her back. Zoey hadn’t gone up against him before, but talked with colleagues who had.
Phillip quickly filed an answer and counter to the divorce papers, claiming mental cruelty. It stated that Jonathan made Rhonda’s life so miserable it forced her into the arms of another man and, of course, she wanted full custody of little Jon, child support, and alimony. This was going to be a tough case and Zoey knew it. Phillip also had a reputation for dragging out proceedings to jack up his fees.
Zoey had dealt with Rhonda’s type before. She was the kind of woman who did a disservice to all hard-working, loving mothers out there. A sudden chill ran up her spine as a memory of her own mother flashed in her mind.
In her mind’s eye she saw her father and mother arguing loudly. Zoey remembered clutching her father’s hand and crying for him to take her home. Then her mother was crying and begging Lyle to let Zoey stay with her. Zoey could still feel the horror as Lyle tearfully handed her off to Sally, turned, and silently walked out the door. Zoey also remembered that, as quickly as the door shut, Sally’s tears would stop. Her mother’s face would turn ugly and mean as she commanded Zoey to go to her room and think about what a rotten child she was for wanting to be with her father instead of her mother. Zoey shook her head to rid herself of the memory.
Zoey figured Rhonda would use her beauty to full advantage, and no doubt there would be plenty of lies and buckets of tears on the witness stand. The fact that Zoey was best friends with Jonathan’s sister made it even more stressful.
Her last task for the day was to have Annette schedule a deposition for the middle of the following week so Rhonda could tell her side of the story. Zoey used this tactic to know straight away what she was up against. In her experience, she discovered that women like Rhonda got most of their lies out in deposition. This way Zoey could disprove them before they were brought up in court, saving money and time. The foolish women usually didn’t realize that just because they weren’t in front of a judge they were still under oath, and could be charged with perjury if the lie was serious enough. That being done, she headed for home.
By the time she got there it was seven o’clock. Zoey changed into her workout clothes and did two miles on the treadmill. Exhausted, she collapsed into the living room recliner, called her favorite deli, and ordered a sandwich and pasta salad for delivery. Her thoughts drifted to Mickey, who was supposed to be coming home in a day or two. She never knew the exact day ahead of time. In his line of business, nothing was ever scheduled. Last-minute meetings always came up. She missed him terribly. It was over three weeks since he’d been home, and they hadn’t spoken in two days. She needed him now more than ever.
Zoey had just c
losed her eyes when the phone rang. “What now,” she said out loud, perturbed at the disturbance, and picked up the phone. “Hello?” she said rather forcefully.
“Hello, gorgeous,” she heard on the other end.
“Mickey,” she uttered with anxious relief.
“Hey, babe,” he said with concern, sensing desperation in her tone. “Is something wrong? Is something wrong in Zoey’s Place?” They’d begun to use the phrase as a reference to her state of mind after she took a college meditation class. She said it was her place of calmness and inner peace, where she always strived to be, her happy place. Whenever she felt stressed out, she would sit alone with eyes closed and use the breathing and visualization techniques she’d learned in class. It wasn’t a magical cure, but most times it helped her find and maintain Zoey’s Place again.
“Oh, Mickey, you have no idea.”
“Jonathan’s divorce?” he asked.
“Yes. I’ve been finding out what a shit Rhonda really is,” she answered.
“Don’t let it get to you,” he encouraged. “You’ve had tough cases before and won.”
“But this one is special; Jonathan is a good friend,” she said. “It’s personal.”
“I know, I know,” he tried to comfort her. “But, hey, how would you feel if they hired another attorney to represent him? You know you’re the best divorce attorney in town.”
She pulled herself together. “You’re right,” she said, feeling more confident. “I can’t wait ‘till you come home. When are you coming home, by the way?” There was a long silence on the phone. She could tell bad news was coming. “What is it?”
“Well, I’ve got bad news and great news,” he said, trying to keep things light. “The bad news is I’m not coming home for another week.”
