Damaged (13 page)

“Okay, gang,” Bennie began, “since last week, my news is that we filed a motion for summary judgment in that massive arbitration dispute over oil and gas leases with landowners in northeastern Pennsylvania. The leases had a ridiculously ambiguous arbitration provision that read, something like, ‘in the event of a disagreement between lessor and lessee concerning this lease, performance thereunder, or damages…'”

Mary found herself zoning out, as she sometimes did with Bennie, who was interested in all types of litigation and joked that she loved being a trial lawyer so much that she was born standing up. Mary admired her, but didn't feel the same way. She had often wondered if being a lawyer was for her, until she started taking special education cases, like Patrick's. She could only imagine how Edward was feeling today and she wondered if Patrick had asked him any questions last night. Then she wondered how Patrick felt, having had to relive his assaults yesterday.

“DiNunzio?” Bennie was saying, cocking her head. “You with us? What's new with your cases?”

“Uh, nothing,” Mary answered, coming out of her reverie.

“Nothing?” Bennie repeated, surprised. “What about that matter for Paxton Butler? I'm dying to know.”

“Uh, nothing new.” Mary couldn't remember the case at the moment, then it came to her. Paxton Butler was an independent stock brokerage company she'd been referred, which was suing a former vice-president for breach of the confidentiality provision of his golden parachute. The stakes were high, in that the contract was worth $2 million, but it was hard to get excited about a fight between rich people.

“You know, that's going to be a very big case.” Bennie's blue eyes glittered with interest. “The law on employment contracts in Pennsylvania is changing every day. There are a lot of eyes on you. Did you schedule the defendant's deposition yet?”

“Uh, no.” Mary realized she was supposed to send out a Notice of Deposition yesterday, but had forgotten.

“It's already Friday, and Monday is Columbus Day.” Bennie frowned slightly. “I'm not criticizing, I'm just confused. You told me you wanted to get the discovery finished by the end of the year.”

“Uh, well, I got busy.”

“With what, that new case? I heard from Marshall that one came in yesterday.”

“Uh, yes.”

“Is it another referral? As big as Paxton Butler?”

“Well, no—”

Judy interjected, “Bennie, everyone! I have major news this week, other than my awesome new hair color.”

“More awesome than that?” Bennie chuckled, turning her attention to Judy, and they all laughed except for Mary, who realized that her best friend was trying to save her ass.

“Yes, if you can believe that.” Judy grinned, comically fluffing up her hot-pink hair. “We won big this week! We defeated a motion to dismiss in that sex discrimination case,
Adelman v. United Group
. If you remember, Bonnie Adelman is the insurance agent who was denied a promotion, and her boss made a number of outrageous comments to her, like he said that ‘her pregnancy hormones were driving her crazy' and…”

Mary zoned out as Judy regaled everyone with stories about the supervisor's comments, and she would usually have found them outrageous, too. But after meeting with Cassandra about Patrick, Mary couldn't share the same level of outrage. What had happened to Patrick was truly outrageous, and to add insult to the most grievous of injuries, he
also
had to endure verbal bullying, day after day. And he was a
child
, a little boy.

Mary barely listened to the rest of Judy's case presentation, then it was Anne's turn to talk about some environmental matters, saying, “… and we're going to file an amicus brief
pro bono
under the Clean Air Act against a coal manufacturing and byproducts recovery facility in Allegheny County. If you have ever done environmental work, you know that the EPA sets NAAQs, or National Ambient Air Quality Standards, and that Pennsylvania is required to create a SIP, or a state implementation plan, detailing how it will attain and maintain the NAAQS…”

Mary tried to pay attention, but she couldn't. Ugly images popped into her mind, and she couldn't stop them. She pictured Robertson with Patrick, upsetting him so much that he vomited. Suddenly she noticed that her hands, which had been resting on the table, were clenching into fists.

“DiNunzio, are you okay?” Bennie asked, returning her attention to her.

“Sure, yes, fine.”

“So tell us about the new matter. We didn't get to hear.”

“It's nothing major,” Mary answered, simply. She knew the facts were upsetting and she wanted to protect Patrick's privacy, even though everyone around the table was bound to keep the matter confidential. Even so, she didn't want to discuss it over coffee and muffins.

Bennie leaned back in her chair. “I heard that your opposing counsel is that jerk Machiavelli. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Kick his ass. What type of matter is it, now?”

“Special education.”

“Oh.” Bennie nodded, satisfied. “Out of my bailiwick. Kick his ass anyway.”

“Mary, I can help you, if you want.” John raised his hand in a way that looked as if he were summoning the waiter at a country club.

“Thank you, but I don't need the help.”

“In fact, I can take the case off your hands.” John blinked behind his fancy glasses. “You said you were too busy to do Paxton Butler, and if I took the special education case from you, that would free you up.”

“That's okay, I can handle both.”

“Frankly, you'd be doing me a favor. I could use a break from the asbestos cases.” John smiled, showing perfect teeth, undoubtedly straightened by orthodonture that Mary's parents couldn't afford until she was in high school, which was why she was Bucky Beaver.

“Sorry, but no thanks.”

“And with your wedding coming up, does it really make sense for you to start a new matter?”

“John, enough,” Mary snapped. “I can manage my own schedule.”

Judy and Anne exchanged glances.

Bennie turned to Mary, lifting an eyebrow. “He's trying to help.”

John interjected again, “Exactly, and I have a window of time.”

“I understand that, but I don't need the help. I know the case and I'm working the case.”

John shrugged. “If it came in yesterday, you've only been working it a day. It's not like there's a big file I have to catch up on. Why don't you let me lighten your load?”

“John, have you ever handled a special education case?”

“No, but how hard can it be?” John chuckled, uncomfortably. “It's
special
, right?”

“What's
that
supposed to mean? Are you making fun of the disabled?”

“No, I didn't mean it that way.” John's eyes flared behind his glasses. “It came out wrong, I'm sorry.”

“John, for your information, special education law is a very complex practice. It's governed by the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act, a federal law just like the Civil Rights Act or the Clean Air Act. If you've never worked on a special education case, you can't just
wing it
. A child's life is at stake, and a child's education. And their future, their safety. Their psyche. And their very
soul
.” Mary spoke with passion that came from deep within, and she wasn't about to stop, though she'd made her point. “It matters at least as much as a broken contract, or a sexist comment, or polluted air. To me, it matters
more
because you're talking about an innocent, sweet, funny, adorable little boy who has been dealt every lousy card that life has to offer and has faced every single one of his challenges with more bravery than any adult I've ever met—”

“Mare?” Judy touched Mary's hand.

“—and John, you can never take this case from me, and furthermore, I'm a named partner at this law firm and you're an associate, so when I say back off,
back off.
”

Bennie and Anne exchanged glances, and Mary couldn't see Judy's reaction, but she knew what it was, that Mary was getting too emotionally involved in this case, which was undoubtedly correct. She realized there was nothing left to say, and she had tons of things to do for Patrick.

Mary rose, turned on her heel, and left the conference room.

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Mary left her outburst behind and started to feel better and stronger, doing what she needed to be doing. The sun warmed her shoulders, and she caught sight of her reflection in a shop window. She had on a fresh new outfit, a tan shirtdress with a light white sweater, and her makeup concealed the dark circles under her eyes. Her hair was freshly blown-dry, her contacts were back in, and her heels were back on, the girl trifecta that made her feel like she could take on the world.

Mary pulled her phone from her purse, pressed in the number for Kevin Reynolds, who was one of the lawyers who handled special ed cases for the Philadelphia School District. She listened to the call ring as she threaded her way through people on the sidewalk. Everybody else was on their phones while they drank Starbucks iced-venti-somethings through green straws, or smoked cigarettes, leaving acrid clouds in the air, which probably improved Philadelphia's general air quality.

“Philadelphia School District, Office of General Counsel,” said the receptionist.

“Hi, this is Mary DiNunzio. Can you put me through to Kevin Reynolds?” Mary powered forward, hustling down the street toward the parking garage.

“Hey, Mary, how you doing?” Kevin asked, in his typically resonant bass. He was widely respected as one of the best lawyers working for the school district: smart, fair, and easy to deal with because he always had the students' best interests at heart.

“I found out some shocking news late yesterday afternoon about my client Patrick O'Brien, a dyslexic fifth-grader at Grayson Elementary.” Mary picked up the pace, since the garage was in sight.

“I heard about that case. The whole office is talking about it. Do you believe Machiavelli?” Kevin snorted. “He's suing the district because we didn't train him correctly? We're responsible for the fact that he's terrible at his job? Machiavelli's creative, I'll give him that.”

“No, he's manipulative.” Mary walked into the garage and headed for the elevator.

“So the boy attacked a teacher's aide?”

“No, that entire story is a fabrication. The aide has been assaulting the boy since the beginning of school, both physically and sexually.”

“Oh no,” Kevin said, his tone horrified. “Okay, just so we're clear, I'm not conceding as true the facts you're telling me right now.”

“Understood, I'll have plenty of proof. I've already had the boy seen by PCA and filed a report with the police. I fully expect Robertson to be charged. Given the assault, I think we need an emergency meeting up at Grayson.”

“When?”

“Today, in about an hour and a half. I would have given you more notice, but I didn't have any.” Mary got into the elevator and pressed the button for the roof level, where she always parked so she didn't have to remember the level number. “I want to meet with you and the Special Ed Director, Ms. Latimer. The programming for the boy's dyslexia is insufficient and I'm thinking about taking him out of Grayson, placing him at Fairmount Prep, and asking you guys to foot the bill.”

“Can you prove that his programming is insufficient?”

“I don't think that will be a problem. He's a ten-year-old who can't read a sentence.” Mary sensed that Kevin was sussing out the possibility of settlement. He had worked with her long enough to know that she didn't make claims she couldn't back up, and the district wouldn't want allegations of sexual assault in an elementary school to come to light.

“What about the ten-day letter?” Kevin asked, referring to the requirement that in order to be considered for tuition reimbursement, a parent had to notify the school district in writing, ten days prior to moving the child.

“Really, Kevin? You're going to stand on a technicality in a horrible case like this?” Mary stepped out of the elevator and hustled toward her car. “If I find out this morning that the programming for the boy is as bad as I think it is, I'm going to want to move him as soon as possible, maybe even over the weekend.”

“Before the ten days?”

“Yes, and I'm going to ask you to waive the ten-day requirement, given the circumstances.” Mary got her keys out of her purse and chirped the car unlocked. “The boy is already exhibiting anxiety and symptoms of PTSD, and I want to get him started at Fairmount Prep and the treatment they offer.”

“Why take him out of Grayson? Robertson doesn't work there anymore. The Complaint alleges he quit.”

“As I say, I think they haven't programmed for him, and it's not just the aide, it's the location. It has to have an effect on my client.” Mary would play hardball, if she had to. “Besides, how is it possible that students at Grayson are so unsupervised that one can be assaulted three times—and nobody notices? I don't want my client at Grayson anymore.”

“You're killing me, Mary. I can't waive the ten days. I don't have authority.”

“Ask your boss to waive it. I'll get you the ten-day letter today, and that has to be good enough. If not, you and I are not going to be able to come to terms in this matter, at all.” Mary reached the car and climbed inside, turning on the ignition to get the air-conditioning going.

“All right, all right, I'll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.” Mary reversed out of the parking space. “Can you meet me at Grayson in an hour and a half?”

“No problem, see you there.”