A biker with shoulder-length auburn curls, a leather jacket hooked on his meaty finger, and studded leather pants tight as a lizard’s skin strode past us into the men’s room. On the back of his T-shirt was a message: “If you can read this, the bitch fell off.”
Margot followed his passage meditatively. “I’ll bet that guy’s lawyer is ready to suck gas.” She gazed at the door to the men’s room. “Do you think they fell in?” She walked over and pounded on the door. Almost immediately, Jason emerged. He looked grey. The events of the day were taking their toll, but Margot didn’t cut him any slack.
“Next time you have to go to the john, take me with you,” she said. “I have five brothers. If I see anything I haven’t seen before, I’ll throw a hat over it.” She grabbed his arm and, high heels clicking on the marble floor, steered him towards the lobby.
Sean appeared next. When he spotted me, his face lit up. “I saw you in court,” he said. “Ginny went back to check on Chloe – can I buy you lunch?”
“Sure,” I said. “But it should be my treat. We were very grateful for your help driving Zack after the party.”
“But Zack wasn’t grateful enough to see me as partner material.” There was an edge in Sean’s voice, but his crooked grin was still engaging. “What the hell. Let’s have lunch.”
When Ed came through the door of the men’s room, Sean was clearly taken aback. “I didn’t see you in there.”
“Stalls,” Ed said.
I looked between them. “Do you two know each other?”
“Ginny introduced us at the party,” Sean said. “It’s nice to see you again, Ed.”
“Sean’s going to join us for lunch,” I said.
“On second thought, I’d better pass,” Sean said, patting his trial bag. “I should go back to the office and run over a few things.”
“I understand,” I said. “There’ll be other times.”
“I hope so,” Sean said. “See you later, Ed.”
“Sooner rather than later,” Ed said. “We’ll be in court this afternoon too.”
“It will be worth your while,” Sean said, then he strode out the door without looking back.
Ed watched him thoughtfully. “They play rough, don’t they?” he said.
“Who?”
“Lawyers like Sean,” Ed said.
“The stakes are high: people’s futures.”
“I guess you’re right,” Ed said, smoothing his cotton shirt. “Let’s fortify ourselves against what’s to come.”
When we stepped out of the courthouse, it was easy to forget the sad mess of mismanaged lives we’d left behind. The sun was bright, the sky was silky blue, and a breeze was stirring the branches of the trees across the street in Victoria Park. Ed took a long slow breath and exhaled contentedly. “The air at this time of year is so delicious, I could eat it with a spoon,” he said.
I pointed across the street. “If you want something more substantial, the vendors are out. Care to dine al fresco?”
“It would be my pleasure. Are you finding this whole Monaghan-Brodnitz battle as heartbreaking as I am?”
I nodded. “The things we do to our kids.”
“And to one another,” Ed said. He shook off the sadness. “Let’s get a move on. Bratwurst at its peak is a dish to savour, but it’s quick to wizen.”
We avoided the subject of the trial during lunch. It was good just to talk about summer plans and feel the sunshine on our faces. When he’d finished his brat on a bun, Ed wiped his mouth on the paper napkin and turned to me. “Are you up for another?”
“I took extra sauerkraut,” I said. “One is my limit.”
“Indulgence is a land without limits,” Ed said. “Tennessee Williams had it right: ‘Nobody gets out of this life alive.’ ”
“True enough,” I said. Five minutes later, brats on buns in hand, we made our way back to the courthouse.
Sean was at the lawyers’ table shuffling papers, and Ginny was reading a computer printout that she held up when she saw us. It was an article titled “Self Injury – From a Teen Perspective.”
“Did you learn anything?” I asked.
Ginny’s lips tightened. “Just that there’s a lot to learn.”
“How is Chloe?” Ed said.
“Fine, I guess.” Ginny folded the printout carefully and dropped it in her bag. “I stopped by the girls’ school on the pretext that they’d forgotten their lunches. They, predictably, were furious at me.” Her voice was heavy with discouragement. “Even when I make an effort, I do the wrong thing.”
Ed reached out a plump hand and patted her arm, but he was wise enough to stay silent. I looked over at the lawyer’s table where Margot sat. It was empty. So was Jason’s seat in the first row.
Ginny followed the direction of my gaze. “Shouldn’t they be here by now?”
For the next ten minutes that question, spoken or unspoken, was on the mind of everyone in the courtroom. Madam Justice Gorges was a stickler for punctuality. The door through which she would enter cracked open every minute or so. At first, there was whispering; then people fell silent, waiting. The hush was electric with anticipation, like the hush in a theatre when an actor has failed to make an entrance.
Just as people began surreptitiously to check their BlackBerrys, Margot swept in, grabbed her barrister’s robe from the back of her chair, shrugged it on, and sat down. Her face was flushed, and she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, steeling herself. Jason followed her slowly. He collapsed into his seat and stared straight ahead. Ginny strained towards him, whispering his name, but he ignored her.
Almost immediately, the door from the judge’s chambers opened. When the court clerk entered and declared court in session, we spectators rose and Madam Justice Gorges entered. Her face revealed nothing. Margot sprang to her feet. I could see that her hands were clenched into fists. She was fuming.
Madam Justice Gorges was cool. “Thank you for joining us, Ms. Wright. I assume you have some thoughts regarding the custody assessment.”
Margot’s intake of breath was audible. “Madam Justice, if I may address the court, I have consulted with my client over the break and he has advised me that he no longer wishes to pursue custody and access issues at this time.”
For a beat, there was silence, then the whispers began. Madam Justice Gorges looked fierce and the whispers stopped. But Ginny was beyond admonishment. She turned to me, her face uncomprehending. “ ‘At this time’? Does that mean he’s going to try again?”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Ask Sean, but I think this is over.”
Ginny turned towards her ex-husband. “Why?” she asked. Jason Brodnitz stared fixedly at his counsel’s back.
Madam Justice Gorges had the husky rasp of a woman who enjoyed a good smoke and a shot of bourbon. “Mr. Brodnitz,” she said. “Is your lawyer correct? Is her statement an accurate reflection of your intentions?”
Jason nodded.
“The court clerk will require a verbal response,” Madam Justice Gorges said coldly.
Jason Brodnitz stood. “Yes, my lawyer is expressing my wishes.”
Now it was Susan Gorges’s turn for fury. “Mr. Brodnitz, the court takes custody and access matters very seriously. Our resources of time and money are limited, but we have expended both in our attempt to arrive at a fair and equitable decision that would serve your daughters’ well being. Now, at the eleventh hour, having wasted our time and our money, you decide that you don’t want to play.” The judge’s eyes drilled into Margot. “You’re an experienced barrister. A rigorous examination of your client before he brought this matter before the courts would have unearthed his ambivalence. You could have advised him accordingly and saved this court the time and expense of a frivolous suit. That said, if Mr. Brodnitz no longer wishes to pursue custody and access issues at this time, the court must honour his decision.”
Margot knew when to suck it up. “Thank you, Madam Justice,” she said. She lowered her head slightly. “I apologize to the court for the inconvenience.”
Susan Gorges then turned her attention to Sean. “Mr. Barton, does your client consent to the withdrawal of Mr.
