Eric Dinnocenzo - The Tenant Lawyer (23 page)

“
Merola’s
going to win the
motion in
limine
,” he told me.

“I agree. I was thinking that if that happens, I’m probably going to withdraw my jury request. I only requested one for the sympathy factor, because David would lose the scholarship. If I lose the motion, that aspect of the case will be gone. I’d actually rather
have
Judge McCarthy than a jury in a straight drug eviction trial. He knows what’s at stake for the family—that they’ll lose public housing. A jury wouldn’t know that.”

“You can’t unilaterally withdraw it. You and
Merola
both have to agree.”

“I don’t think he’ll fight that.”

“Judge McCarthy would rip his nuts off if he did.”

I laughed.

“He’d perform an
in camera
castration,” Alec said.

Our discussion shifted to the police report, which he didn’t consider to be as harmful as I did. “The paraphernalia stuff isn’t fatal,” he said, taking a bite of his sandwich. “It’s sandwich bags. If there had been any drugs in them, it would’ve said so in the report. Is it illegal to have sandwich bags in your car?”

“No, but it doesn’t help to have them in the car. I don’t have sandwich bags in my car. Do you? Plus they were on my client’s son’s side.”

“But it wasn’t his car,” Alec pointed out. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re still up shit’s creek with this case, but I don’t think that detail is such a killer. I think you’re in worse shape with the brother just being in the car while drugs were being sold, forget about plastic bags. I say you just try to get the best deal you can out of
Merola
. Whatever you
get will be better than what will happen at trial. Meaning, even if all you could get is three weeks or a month, I’d take it. I don’t believe the brother was an innocent bystander.”

“Yeah, I have strong doubts myself. As for
Merola
, he won’t give me enough time to get the son through the school year. I can’t agree to anything less. There’s really no point.”

“The kid has nowhere else to stay to get him through the school year?”

“No. They’d have to move back to Puerto Rico.”

Alec shrugged, as if to say, tough break.

“They don’t put these scholarships on layaway, either,” I said. “It’ll go to some other student.” I paused. “Actually, I went over to the clients’ apartment for dinner the other night.”

“Whose apartment?”

“Anna’s.
You
know,
my client.”

“You went to a client’s apartment at Washington for dinner?” he asked incredulously, a smile appearing on his face.

“Why? What’s so funny?”

“I can’t picture you doing that.”

“Why? You can picture yourself going there and not me?”

“I didn’t say that, but you’re right. I can’t picture you going there.”

I chuckled. “Okay, whatever. Will you tell me why, though, or do I have to keep asking?”

“Because you’re a Boston Back Bay type.
You’re too refined.”

“Oh, fuck off. I’m from Worcester.”

“Yeah, but you don’t live here anymore. Seriously, why did you go?”

“Because it was an opportunity for me to meet Miguel, the son.”

Alec leaned backward. “You’ve been putting a lot of time into that case.”

“Yeah, I have.”

“What does the colonel think?”

“He thinks it’s a bad case. He doesn’t know to what extent I’ve worked on it, but I know he’d think that I’m devoting more time to them because I think they’re so-called good poor people. In his mind we shouldn’t differentiate between so-called good poor people and bad poor people. I agree with that in principle, and maybe he’s right about me, but it’s a more complex case and that interests me. It’s compelling because it’s not just someone’s apartment at stake here, but an opportunity for a college education too.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. It makes me feel a little guilty, like I’m doing something good but also something not so good at the same time, if that makes sense.”

“In my opinion, if you’re doing all of your work and giving all your clients a fair shake,
then
at the end of the day you can’t fault yourself for anything. We make forty grand a year. We don’t deserve too hard of a time when we don’t need it.”

After lunch I got a cup of coffee from the Dunkin Donuts across the street and then drove to St. Anne’s for a meeting. We needed to discuss our next step, now that the article had been published. A strange sort of lethargy had come over our group, as if we had crashed from the collective high we felt at having our issue profiled in the newspaper. Although some people in the community had talked to us about it, there wasn’t a big outcry, and there had been no change in the city’s plans. In short, nothing had really happened as a result of the article.

As usual, Father Kelly was the first to speak. “I know you all saw the article. I’ve had parishioners talk to me about it and they’ve been supportive. I think now we have to decide where exactly we’re going with this.” He paused. “As you all know, the city still hasn’t done anything and it doesn’t look like anything is going to happen. My own opinion is that we should consider litigation. As I’ve stated before, there are drawbacks to doing this, but quite
simply, if we don’t do it the money could end up being spent.” He looked directly at me. “I’m curious as to what you think, Mark.”

Everyone looked at me, making me feel like a deer caught in headlights. I was surprised that he had introduced this idea without first talking to me in private. His asking me in front of everyone put me on the spot.

“I’d have to discuss it with my litigation director,” I responded. “He’s the ultimate decision-maker. If we go that way, though, I can say that it’ll be a battle. It’s a tough case. Courts don’t like to get involved in political matters, which is likely how they will view this. The case would also require money for expenses such as depositions.”

“How much would that be?” asked Nancy
Brightman
.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s hard to say at this stage. It could be five thousand, but it could conceivably be ten or twenty if there is expert testimony or a lot of depositions.”

We discussed the issue for the next twenty minutes. There was talk of scrounging up some funds from the groups and agencies represented at the meeting to cover litigation costs. In the end, everyone agreed that we should go forward with the case. We had come this far, the reasoning went, and we shouldn’t quit now. I told everyone that I would have to check with the colonel and get back to them.

I lingered after the meeting was over and asked Father Kelly if I could talk to him. I felt that his springing the idea of litigation on me without warning merited a conversation. An uncomfortable feeling was swelling inside me, since if the colonel said no to the idea of a lawsuit, I’d feel really crappy. I would have attended all of the meetings only to jump ship at the last moment.

Father Kelly invited me to his living quarters in the back of the rectory. I followed him down a long hallway with rusty pipes suspended from the ceiling, then up a set of creaky wooden stairs that led to his residence.

Fifteen years had passed since I had last been there; fifteen years since I had sat with him in his living room and opened up about personal matters: family issues, college plans, my high school struggles. He used to listen to me with understanding, never passing judgment. This was one of the few places I had been able to go where I felt truly safe and secure. Taking a seat on the couch in his living area, while he sat in a stately brown leather chair, I felt like a teenager again, as if I had regressed and was no longer a thirty-two year old lawyer.

With the passage of so many years, I had forgotten what his quarters looked like. The thick burgundy carpet covering the living room floor looked new; I couldn’t remember if it had been there years ago. Framed pictures filled two middle levels of a tall bookshelf in the corner. Among the many volumes on the other shelves were Aquinas,
Lonergan’s
Insight
, and a biography of Lincoln. His windows looked out over the parking lot, and he kept the blinds pulled down to prevent people from looking in.

“I’m sorry for springing the issue of litigation on you at the meeting.”

“I was going to ask you about that.”

“I thought so.” He crossed his legs. “I was going to talk to you about it first, but then I thought about it and figured that if I did, it might look like you and I
were
a little cabal. I wanted everyone involved in this together, so I brought it up at the meeting.” He lifted his hands a few inches from the arms of his chair and then let them drop back down. “It may have been the wrong decision, and I’m sorry if it was. But I did think about it carefully before deciding.”

I nodded, understanding his rationale. “I appreciate that, Father. Well, as I said before, I’ll check with James, my litigation director. It’s his decision in the end.” I looked over at the bookcase. “You have some interesting books. I remember that you used to read the ancient Greeks and the Romans.”

“Yes, you can’t go wrong with them. I remember your being a reader when you were younger. Are you still?”

“I try to, but work and my commute chip away at my free time.”

“I recall you always liked history.” He rose from his seat and went over to his bookcase where he removed a thick hardcover and handed it to me. “This is a great book. It’s a biography of Alexander Hamilton by Ron
Chernow
that I just finished.”

“I’ve heard good things about that. I’ve been meaning to get around to it.”

“Take it.”

I looked down at the cover and then looked up at him. “Thanks a lot.”

He returned to his chair. “So how are things going with you?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Just okay?”

I could tell that he wanted me to open up to him, and I was tempted to. I hadn’t shared my feelings about my relationship with Sara with anyone, and I felt a need to. Then there was the conversation with my mother last night. It’d feel good to talk to someone about that, too, and in fact Father Kelly would be the perfect person for that since he knew my mother. But I was hesitant to broach those subjects with him, thinking too much time had passed since I used to confide to him as a teenager.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I replied.

“Your mother told me you’ve been in a relationship for a while.”

I was surprised that Father Kelly brought Sara up, almost like he had read my mind. “Yes, her name is Sara.”

“How long have you and she been a couple?”

“Seven years.”

“That’s quite a while. I’m sure she’s very special.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“What’s she like?”

“Umm, she’s a really lovely person. She’s kind to people and looks for the best in them. She has
an innocence
about her and a good sense of humor. And she has a good heart. Like if she sees someone on the street
who
looks hurt or in some kind of jeopardy, she’ll try to help them.”

“I’d like to meet her sometime.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. She doesn’t come out here much, but yeah, that’d be nice.”

“You must be pretty serious if you’ve been together for seven years?”

“Yeah, we are.” All of a sudden I decided to open up to him, in spite of my earlier reluctance to do so. “But we have problems.”

Father Kelly looked at me in a way that invited me to elaborate.

“The seven years, well, it’s kind of like we’re at a standstill and not moving forward. We don’t communicate well. It’s like we both assume the worst about the other and are on the defensive. She resents me for past wrongs. We had some nasty fights where we each said hurtful things to one another and, well, that hasn’t gone away. It lingers. Our relationship is different now.”

“People get into arguments,” Father Kelly said. “They sometimes say things they shouldn’t. None of us is perfect.”

“Yeah, well, there’s been a lot of imperfection with us. I know there has been on my part.”

“Do you want to stay together?”

“I know things aren’t good with us, but I can’t picture being without her. I’d miss her too much.”

He mentioned that when he counseled couples whose relationships were foundering, he often found that the most effective thing they could do, above all else, was listen to each other and try to understand each other’s feelings. A common problem was that each person thought his or her feelings weren’t being respected. It all sounded true, it all sounded reasonable. In fact, I recognized that it was the same message that Eileen used to give to me and Sara during our therapy sessions.

“If you need to talk again, you know where to find me.” Father Kelly smiled warmly,
then
he moved the conversation forward by saying, “I also wanted to mention to you that I hear you’re representing Anna Rivera in her eviction case.”