you wouldn't believe.”
“Right,” O'Shay said.
At home, Diana came after him. “You've always come on as such an idealist,” she said. “I felt kind of mean-spirited next to you, wanting things. A little angry you never made the kind of money I thought you should, being an attorney.”
He tried to hug her but she pulled away. “See, I consoled myself that I'd married a good guy. Now I hear you've taken on this client, and I hear he's been trying to wrestle money out of his employer for years. He's a fraud.”
“You heard? Where?”
“My sister.”
His wife's sister was also a local attorney. So the news had spread. He sighed. “He's a special case, honey.”
“Yeah, he's special. He's putting all your years of hard work in the dumper.” She gave up after a while, though, and O'Shay, so tired, read the newspaper in front of a cold fireplace. He crept off to bed after she had fallen asleep.
The next morning he ate bacon, eggs, and toast and got to the office before his wife got up and Rosa came in. He spoke with a few people, then called Colby. “I've got the experts,” he said, “but you know, these doctors aren't willing to wreck their standing in the community for your sake. They will say the right things, but they have to convince a judge who understands every nuance, do you understand me?”
“You mean they'll talk careful and he'll hear that they're holding back.”
“Right. Now, right now I can get you some money if we settle. That's the only sure thing right now. You probably should consider a deal.”
“How much?”
“Maybe…” O'Shay tried to name a figure he could get “… up to fifteen thousand.”
Colby snorted. “Half the price of a car and not even a luxury one at that,” he said. “No, I don't think that's going to get me out of the hole I'm in. I'm not sure you appreciate exactly how serious my case is. And I'm beginning to question how committed you really are to my cause, O'Shay.”
“Oh, I know it's serious, Mr. Colby. And I'm doing my best for you. I need you to believe that.”
“Then don't hand me a bag of peanuts and expect thanks. I got lifelong disability. I got to go for the big money, O'Shay. Take it to trial.”
“Jeff,” O'Shay said. “I'm obligated to tell you if we go to trial there's a definite possibility we'll lose and you'll get nothing.” A little of the old O'Shay poked through the Colby-induced fog of deceit and evil, and felt obliged to tell the truth.
Jeff Colby took a marker pen into the kitchen and marked the date of his trial on his calendar. The case was set for ten. Lander's office opened at nine. He needed to get cracking, but there was plenty of time to do the necessary shopping in advance.
“I can borrow from Daddy,” Diana said, “if it's money you're worrying about.”
O'Shay lay on a teak lounge in the backyard, admiring the fine job they had done with the plantings around the edge of their large lawn. A high fence plus fast-growing conifers made the yard very private. Sunshine spilled across the grass. He closed his eyes and smelled the blossoming lemon tree tucked at the back. “There's something ironic about invoking your dad in this case you think has so much to do with integrity. If I only understood irony better.”
“Don't get cute, Patrick. Just don't sell yourself cheap.”
He breathed the sunshine deeply. “I'll make sure we're well compensated.”
“Don't joke about this!” she said, swatting him. “This isn't funny!”
Easing his bare feet onto the patio, he left her behind and walked across the lawn. He picked up the lemons that had fallen to the ground, and the ones that were ripe, holding as many as he could in his two hands. Back in the kitchen, he squeezed them, added sugar, and brought a glass out to her, along with a nice lunch which he laid out on the patio table.
While they ate, he brought up the topic of some thoughts he had about what they might do next summer for vacation. He
“Right,” O'Shay said.
At home, Diana came after him. “You've always come on as such an idealist,” she said. “I felt kind of mean-spirited next to you, wanting things. A little angry you never made the kind of money I thought you should, being an attorney.”
He tried to hug her but she pulled away. “See, I consoled myself that I'd married a good guy. Now I hear you've taken on this client, and I hear he's been trying to wrestle money out of his employer for years. He's a fraud.”
“You heard? Where?”
“My sister.”
His wife's sister was also a local attorney. So the news had spread. He sighed. “He's a special case, honey.”
“Yeah, he's special. He's putting all your years of hard work in the dumper.” She gave up after a while, though, and O'Shay, so tired, read the newspaper in front of a cold fireplace. He crept off to bed after she had fallen asleep.
The next morning he ate bacon, eggs, and toast and got to the office before his wife got up and Rosa came in. He spoke with a few people, then called Colby. “I've got the experts,” he said, “but you know, these doctors aren't willing to wreck their standing in the community for your sake. They will say the right things, but they have to convince a judge who understands every nuance, do you understand me?”
“You mean they'll talk careful and he'll hear that they're holding back.”
“Right. Now, right now I can get you some money if we settle. That's the only sure thing right now. You probably should consider a deal.”
“How much?”
“Maybe…” O'Shay tried to name a figure he could get “… up to fifteen thousand.”
Colby snorted. “Half the price of a car and not even a luxury one at that,” he said. “No, I don't think that's going to get me out of the hole I'm in. I'm not sure you appreciate exactly how serious my case is. And I'm beginning to question how committed you really are to my cause, O'Shay.”
“Oh, I know it's serious, Mr. Colby. And I'm doing my best for you. I need you to believe that.”
“Then don't hand me a bag of peanuts and expect thanks. I got lifelong disability. I got to go for the big money, O'Shay. Take it to trial.”
“Jeff,” O'Shay said. “I'm obligated to tell you if we go to trial there's a definite possibility we'll lose and you'll get nothing.” A little of the old O'Shay poked through the Colby-induced fog of deceit and evil, and felt obliged to tell the truth.
Jeff Colby took a marker pen into the kitchen and marked the date of his trial on his calendar. The case was set for ten. Lander's office opened at nine. He needed to get cracking, but there was plenty of time to do the necessary shopping in advance.
“I can borrow from Daddy,” Diana said, “if it's money you're worrying about.”
O'Shay lay on a teak lounge in the backyard, admiring the fine job they had done with the plantings around the edge of their large lawn. A high fence plus fast-growing conifers made the yard very private. Sunshine spilled across the grass. He closed his eyes and smelled the blossoming lemon tree tucked at the back. “There's something ironic about invoking your dad in this case you think has so much to do with integrity. If I only understood irony better.”
“Don't get cute, Patrick. Just don't sell yourself cheap.”
He breathed the sunshine deeply. “I'll make sure we're well compensated.”
“Don't joke about this!” she said, swatting him. “This isn't funny!”
Easing his bare feet onto the patio, he left her behind and walked across the lawn. He picked up the lemons that had fallen to the ground, and the ones that were ripe, holding as many as he could in his two hands. Back in the kitchen, he squeezed them, added sugar, and brought a glass out to her, along with a nice lunch which he laid out on the patio table.
While they ate, he brought up the topic of some thoughts he had about what they might do next summer for vacation. He
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