sex. They had separate bedrooms!"
"You probably have that right. I can't imagine he'd want to or even be able to have sex with that miserable hag."
"Do you think the reason he's suing you might have something to do with you criticizing him that night? He did seem to take offense."
Craig nodded a few times. Leona had a point. With glass in hand, he slipped off the barstool and returned to the bar for a refill. As he waited among the happy revelers, he thought about Leona's idea and wondered if she was correct. He remembered regretting what he had said to Jordan when he'd gotten into Patience's bedroom and saw how bad off she was. His comment had just popped out of his mouth in the stress of the circumstances and how surprised he'd been. At the time, he'd thought his hasty apology had been sufficient, but maybe not. If not, he was going to regret the incident even more.
With a second double scotch, Craig worked his way back to the table and got himself onto his barstool. He moved slowly, as if his legs weighed a hundred pounds apiece. To Leona he seemed to have made yet another transition. He now appeared depressed, his mouth slack and his eyes droopy.
"This is a disaster," Craig managed with a sigh. He stared down into his scotch, his arms folded on the table. "This could be the end of everything, just when things are going so well."
"How can it be the end of everything?" Leona asked, trying to be lively. "What are you supposed to do now that you have been served?"
Craig didn't answer. He didn't even move. Leona couldn't even see him breathing.
"Shouldn't you get a lawyer?" Leona persisted. She leaned forward in an attempt to look up into Craig's face.
"The insurance company is supposed to defend me," Craig responded in a flat voice.
"Well, there you go. Why not call them?"
Craig raised his eyes and met Leona's. He nodded a few times as he gave Leona's suggestion consideration. It was almost five thirty on a Friday night, yet the insurance company might have someone on call. It was worth a try. He could use the reassurance that he was at least doing something. A big part of his anxiety was from the helplessness he felt in the face of such an overwhelming, disembodied threat.
With newly found urgency, Craig snapped his cell phone from its clip on his belt. Using klutzy fingers, he scrolled through his address book. Like a beacon in a dark night, the name and cell phone number of his insurance agent popped into view. Craig made the call.
It ended up requiring several calls, including having to leave his name and number in an emergency voicemail, but within a quarter of an hour, Craig was able to tell his story to a real person with an authoritative voice who acted calmly knowledgeable. His name was Arthur Marshall, the sound of which Craig found curiously reassuring.
"Since this is your first brush with this kind of event," Arthur was saying, "and since we know from experience how uniquely unsettling it is, I think it is important for you to understand that for us it is all too common. In other words, we are experienced in dealing with malpractice litigation, and we will give your case all the attention it deserves. Meanwhile, I want to emphasize that you should not take it personally."
"How else can I take it?" Craig complained. "It's calling into question my life's work. It's putting everything in jeopardy."
"That is a common feeling for someone like yourself and entirely understandable. But trust me, it is not like that! It is not a reflection of your dedication and life's work. More often than not, it is a fishing expedition in hopes of a financial windfall despite the plaintiff attorney's claims to the contrary. Everyone familiar with medicine knows that less-than-perfect outcomes, even involving honest mistakes, are not malpractice, and the judge will so advise the jury if this action were to go to a trial. But remember! The vast majority of such cases do not go to trial, or if they do, the vast majority are
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