“Malpractice, of course. He eventually got your diagnosis right, but he should have targeted lead poisoning as the cause of your neurological problems much earlier than he did. Especially after you told him about the renovations to your condo. The dust that comes with sanding off old, lead-based paint in houses built before 1978 is a pretty common source of lead poisoning.”
“But he’s the top expert in Miami.”
“He’s still capable of making mistakes. He is human, after all.”
She looked off to the middle distance. “That’s the perfect word for him. He was
“How do you mean?”
“Some doctors are ice-cold, no bedside manner at all. Dr. Marsh was very sympathetic, very compassionate. It’s not that common for someone under the age of forty to get ALS, and he took a genuine interest in me.”
“In what way?”
“Not in the way you’re thinking,” she said, giving him a playful kick in the shin.
“I’m not thinking anything.”
“I’ll give you a perfect example. One of the most important tests I had was the EMG. That’s the one where they hook you up to the electrodes to see if there’s any nerve damage.”
“I know. I saw the report.”
“Yeah, but
“You’re right about that.”
“I could give you a dozen other examples. He’s a great doctor and a real gentleman. I don’t need to sue Dr. Marsh. A million and a half dollars is plenty for me.”
Jack couldn’t disagree. It was one more pleasant reminder that she was no longer the self-centered twentysomething-year-old of another decade. And neither was he.
“You’re making the right decision.”
“I’ve made a few good ones in my lifetime,” she said, her smile fading. “And a few bad ones, too.”
He was at a loss for the right response, preferred to let it go. But she followed up. “Have you ever wondered what would have happened if we hadn’t broken up?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Let’s not talk about that.”
“Why not? Isn’t that just a teensy-weensy part of the reason you took my case?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Stop calling me a liar.”
“Stop lying.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Just answer one question for me. I want you to be completely honest. And if you are, I’ll totally drop this, okay?”
“All right. One.”
“Six months we’ve been working this case together. Are you surprised nothing happened between us?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“That’s two questions.”
“Why do you think nothing happened?”
“Because I’m married.”
She flashed a thin smile, nodding knowingly. “Interesting answer.”
“What’s so interesting about it? That’s the answer.”
“Yes, but you could have said something a little different, like ‘Because I love my wife.’ Instead, you said, ‘Because I’m married.’”
“It comes down to the same thing.”
“No. One comes from the heart. The other is just a matter of playing by the rules.”
Jack didn’t answer. Jessie had always been a smart girl, but that was perhaps the most perceptive thing he’d ever heard her say.
The digital pager vibrated on his belt. He checked it eagerly, then looked at Jessie and said, “Jury’s back.”
She didn’t move, still waiting for him to say something. Jack just gathered himself up and said, “Can’t keep the judge waiting.”
Without another word, she rose and followed him up the courthouse steps.
5
•
In minutes they were back in Courtroom 9, and Jack could feel the butterflies swirling in his belly. This wasn’t the most complicated case he’d ever handled, but he wanted to win it for Jessie. It had nothing to do with the fact that his client was a woman who’d once rejected him and that this was his chance to prove what a great lawyer he was. Jessie deserved to win. Period. It was that simple.
Jack and his client stood impassively at their place behind the mahogany table for the defense. Plaintiff’s counsel stood alone on the other side of the courtroom, at the table closest to the jury box. His client, a corporation, hadn’t bothered to send a representative for the rendering of the verdict. Perhaps they’d expected the worst, a prospect that seemed to have stimulated some public interest. A reporter from the local paper was seated in the front row, and behind her in the public gallery were other folks Jack didn’t recognize. One face, however, was entirely familiar: Joseph Marsh, Jessie’s neurologist, was standing in the rear of the courtroom.
A paddle fan wobbled directly over Jack’s head as the decision makers returned to the jury box in single file. Each of them looked straight ahead, sharing not a glance with either the plaintiff or the defendant. Professional jury consultants could have argued for days as to the significance of their body language-whether it was good or bad if they made eye contact with the plaintiff, the defendant, the lawyers, the judge, or no one at all. To Jack, it was all pop psychology, unreliable even when the foreman winked at your client and mouthed the words, “It’s in the bag, baby.”
“Has the jury reached a verdict?” asked the judge.
“We have, Your Honor,” announced the forewoman. The all-important slip of paper went from the jury box to the bailiff and finally to the judge. He inspected it for less than a second, showing no reaction. “Please announce the verdict.”
Jack felt his client’s long fingernails digging into his bicep.
“In the case of Viatical Solutions Incorporated versus Jessie Merrill, we the jury find in favor of the defendant.”
Jack suddenly found himself locked in what felt like a full body embrace, his client trembling in his arms. Had he not been there to hold her, she would have fallen to the floor. A tear trickled down her cheek as she looked him in the eye and whispered, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He released her, but she held him a moment longer-a little too long and too publicly, perhaps, to suit a married man. Then again, plenty of overjoyed clients had hugged him in the past, even big burly men who were homophobic to the core. Like them, Jessie had simply gotten carried away with the moment.
