4

Jack and Jessie were seated side by side on the courthouse steps, casting cookie crumbs to pigeons as they awaited notification that the jury had reached a verdict.

“What do you think they’ll do?” she asked.

Jack paused. The tiers of granite outside the Miami-Dade courthouse were the judicial equivalent of the Oracle of Delphi, where lawyers were called upon daily to hazard a wild-ass guess about a process that was ultimately unpredictable. Jack would have liked to tell her there was nothing to worry about, that in twenty minutes they’d be cruising toward Miami Beach, the top down on his beloved Mustang convertible, the CD player totally cranked with an obnoxiously loud version of the old hit song from the rock band Queen, “We Are the Champions.”

But his career had brought too many surprises to be that unequivocal.

“I have a good feeling,” he said. “But with a jury you never know.”

He savored the last bit of cream from the better half of an Oreo, then tossed the rest of the cookie to the steps below. A chorus of gray wings fluttered as hungry pigeons scurried after the treat. In seconds it was in a hundred pieces. The victors flew off into the warm, crystal-blue skies that marked February in Miami.

Jessie said, “Either way, I guess this is it.”

“We might have an appeal, if we lose.”

“I was speaking more on a personal level.” She laid her hand on his forearm and said, “You did a really great thing for me, taking my case. But in a few minutes it will all be over. And then, I guess, I’ll never see you again.”

“That’s actually a good thing. In my experience, reuniting with an old client usually means they’ve been sued or indicted all over again.”

“I’ve had my fill of that, thank you.”

“I know you have.”

Jack glanced toward the hot-dog vendor on the crowded sidewalk along Flagler Street, then back at Jessie. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him, and her hand was still resting on his forearm. A little too touchy-feely today. He rose and buried his hands in his pockets.

“Jack, there’s something I want to tell you.”

The conversation seemed to be drifting beyond the attorney-client relationship, and he didn’t want to go there. He was her lawyer, nothing more, never mind the past. “Before you say anything, there’s something I should tell you.”

“Really?”

He sat on the step beside her. “I noticed that Dr. Marsh was back in the courtroom today. He’s obviously concerned.”

His abrupt return to law-talk seemed to confuse her. “Concerned about me, you mean?”

“I’d say his exact concern is whether you plan to sue him. We haven’t talked much about this, but you probably do have a case against him.”

“Sue him? For what?”

“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 so human. He took such special care of me.”

“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 all you saw was the report. The actual test can be pretty scary, especially when you’re worried that you might have something as awful as Lou Gehrig’s disease. Most neurologists have a technician do the test. But Dr. Marsh knew how freaked out I was about this. I didn’t want some technician to conduct the test, and then I’d have to wait another week for the doctor to interpret the results, and then wait another two weeks for a follow-up appointment where the results would finally be explained to me. So he ran the test himself, immediately. There aren’t a lot of doctors who would do that for their patients in this world of mismanaged care.”

“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.

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