always kind of grubby, but that Christmas she looked great – new haircut, nice clothes, and her skin had cleared up.”
“Delia has beautiful skin.”
“She didn’t when we were in school. She ate crap – well, we all ate crap – anyway, she was always kind of spotty, but that Christmas she was a knockout.”
“Hmm.”
“Why the ‘hmm’?”
“That kind of physical change often means a woman’s in a serious relationship.”
“You don’t believe Delia was sleeping around, do you?” Zack said.
“No,” I said. “Neither do you and neither does Debbie Haczkewicz, but Delia made a decision about how she handles this part of her past, and she must have reasons.”
Zack handed me a bowl. “Delia always has reasons. I just wonder why she didn’t tell any of us. She must have felt isolated. Supreme Court clerkships begin in early September and end in September of the next year. Abby was born on September 29. Being pregnant, giving birth, and establishing a stellar legal reputation – that’s a lot to handle on your own.”
“Delia pulled it off,” I said. “She deserves credit.”
“She does. And to be honest, I don’t know how much help any of the guys in the Winners’ Circle would have been if Delia had told us she was pregnant. All we knew about pregnancies was to avoid them at all costs. Blake was the only one who was geographically close to Delia. He was in Toronto, but Kevin was in Calgary, Chris was in Vancouver, and I was here, slaving away for Fred L. Harney.”
I wiped the countertop. “I always meant to ask you about that. How come you didn’t article with one of the five-star firms? You graduated at the top of your class. You must have had offers.”
“You bet I did.” Zack poured the soap into the dishwasher and turned the dial. “Paraplegics are highly desirable. A lot of big firms like to have a cripple they can wheel out to show how enlightened they are. But I didn’t have a year to waste being poster boy for the so-called differently abled. I knew how to research points of law, and I knew how to prepare memoranda of law, what I didn’t know was how to actually
practise
law. When Fred Harney called, I knew I’d just discovered my yellow brick road.
“Fred was heavily into the sauce when I articled for him. But even drunk he was one hell of a lawyer. I learned more sitting with him in court than I learned in three years in law school. That year he was blacking out a lot, and my job was to go to court with him and remember what happened.”
“People didn’t notice he was drunk?”
Zack shook his head. “Nah. Fred was a pro. Never slurred; never stumbled; never lost his train of thought. Flawless performance. Couldn’t ask for better representation, except for those huge gaps in his memory. That’s where I came in. When court adjourned, we’d go back to the office, and when he sobered up, I’d tell him what the Crown said and what he’d said. And here’s the wild part. Fred would critique the performances – both the Crown prosecutor’s and his own. It might not have been a five-star law firm, but I was getting a master class in the law. Sometimes, when I’m facing a jury, I can still hear him. ‘Don’t stint on the smouldering rage,’ he’d say. ‘Convince the jury that only the utmost effort of will is keeping you from erupting at the vast injustice that has brought your client to this sorry pass.’ ”
Zack raised his hand, palm out. “Enough tripping down memory lane,” he said. “Time for us to get to work. You have papers to grade, and I am not prepared for court tomorrow morning.”
Willie and Pantera led the way to the office Zack and I share and took their places beside us as we settled in. I picked up an essay; Zack opened his laptop, found what he was looking for, and sighed. “This is worse than I thought. Ms. Shreve, if you’ve ever had a hankering to see your husband step on his joint, be in Courtroom B tomorrow morning.”
I
“Delia has beautiful skin.”
“She didn’t when we were in school. She ate crap – well, we all ate crap – anyway, she was always kind of spotty, but that Christmas she was a knockout.”
“Hmm.”
“Why the ‘hmm’?”
“That kind of physical change often means a woman’s in a serious relationship.”
“You don’t believe Delia was sleeping around, do you?” Zack said.
“No,” I said. “Neither do you and neither does Debbie Haczkewicz, but Delia made a decision about how she handles this part of her past, and she must have reasons.”
Zack handed me a bowl. “Delia always has reasons. I just wonder why she didn’t tell any of us. She must have felt isolated. Supreme Court clerkships begin in early September and end in September of the next year. Abby was born on September 29. Being pregnant, giving birth, and establishing a stellar legal reputation – that’s a lot to handle on your own.”
“Delia pulled it off,” I said. “She deserves credit.”
“She does. And to be honest, I don’t know how much help any of the guys in the Winners’ Circle would have been if Delia had told us she was pregnant. All we knew about pregnancies was to avoid them at all costs. Blake was the only one who was geographically close to Delia. He was in Toronto, but Kevin was in Calgary, Chris was in Vancouver, and I was here, slaving away for Fred L. Harney.”
I wiped the countertop. “I always meant to ask you about that. How come you didn’t article with one of the five-star firms? You graduated at the top of your class. You must have had offers.”
“You bet I did.” Zack poured the soap into the dishwasher and turned the dial. “Paraplegics are highly desirable. A lot of big firms like to have a cripple they can wheel out to show how enlightened they are. But I didn’t have a year to waste being poster boy for the so-called differently abled. I knew how to research points of law, and I knew how to prepare memoranda of law, what I didn’t know was how to actually
practise
law. When Fred Harney called, I knew I’d just discovered my yellow brick road.
“Fred was heavily into the sauce when I articled for him. But even drunk he was one hell of a lawyer. I learned more sitting with him in court than I learned in three years in law school. That year he was blacking out a lot, and my job was to go to court with him and remember what happened.”
“People didn’t notice he was drunk?”
Zack shook his head. “Nah. Fred was a pro. Never slurred; never stumbled; never lost his train of thought. Flawless performance. Couldn’t ask for better representation, except for those huge gaps in his memory. That’s where I came in. When court adjourned, we’d go back to the office, and when he sobered up, I’d tell him what the Crown said and what he’d said. And here’s the wild part. Fred would critique the performances – both the Crown prosecutor’s and his own. It might not have been a five-star law firm, but I was getting a master class in the law. Sometimes, when I’m facing a jury, I can still hear him. ‘Don’t stint on the smouldering rage,’ he’d say. ‘Convince the jury that only the utmost effort of will is keeping you from erupting at the vast injustice that has brought your client to this sorry pass.’ ”
Zack raised his hand, palm out. “Enough tripping down memory lane,” he said. “Time for us to get to work. You have papers to grade, and I am not prepared for court tomorrow morning.”
Willie and Pantera led the way to the office Zack and I share and took their places beside us as we settled in. I picked up an essay; Zack opened his laptop, found what he was looking for, and sighed. “This is worse than I thought. Ms. Shreve, if you’ve ever had a hankering to see your husband step on his joint, be in Courtroom B tomorrow morning.”
I
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