One Dead Lawyer (6 page)
Authors: Tony Lindsay
Chapter Six
Daphne wanted to stop at a lady's clothing boutique in Hyde Park before we went to see the lawyer she recommended. When she came out of the shop, the woman was dressed “shitty sharp,” as Ricky says. That's when a person is dressed so well they develop a haughty or “shitty” attitude.
Daphne went into the boutique with slippers on her feet. She came out in a silver two-piece suit with a short skirt barely covering her business, white stockings and silver spiked heels. In the bold sun the silver shone like platinum.
Her suit matched my tie and her charcoal gray sunglasses matched my suit. I was grinning from ear to ear when she slid into the DTS. We were looking good. I love a woman who can dress.
“What are you grinning about, sir?” With her hair still on her shoulders, her prideful smile was bright and warm. She knew she was sharp as a razor.
“You baby.”
“Baby? Mm, I like that, Mr. Price; feels like I moved up in status.” The smile was seductive, and I moved to it. While I was kissing her soft lips, I pulled from the curve into traffic. “You looking mighty good there, Ms. Daphne.” And that was the truth.
“Well, when you stepped into your top-shelf gear, did you think I was not going to do the same? I dress with a man. If you looking good baby, I'm going to be looking good right along with you; that's a part of togetherness a lot of people forget. It don't matter if we together for three days or three years, if we together, we should look good together.
“A couple makes a statement. If a woman is sharp and a brother is raggedy, what kind of message are they giving to the world? If two people are together they both supposed to be looking prosperous. If you got a black diamond mink, I want one too, and vice-versa. Couples make me mad not matching. We together, D, so our level of dress is going to be together. You're a sharp brother, and if I'm going to walk by your side I have to be proper.” She leaned in and kissed me on my cheek, “Isn't that right?”
“You got it right, baby, and thanks too for helping me with this lawyer business. I mean the referral and all.”
“You don't have to thank me for this. You are helping me save my son, it's only right that I help you save yours. We are together, D, at least in this. You and I against the odds, and I got to tell you it feels good having a strong back against mine, even if it is for only a short time.” Her hand slid over my thigh to my lap. “Really good.”
Daphne was putting the full-court press on a brother with all that togetherness talk, but I didn't mind. After the escapade with Regina, it felt good to be wanted. And being wanted by a smart, good-looking younger woman was a definite ego booster. I sat a little taller behind the wheel of my Caddy.
If Daphne and I were to kick it, the only stumbling block I saw was that hardheaded boy of hers. He would require patience. I looked over at Daphne's pretty, freshly made-up face and felt the cool confident demeanor she exuded, and then I thought about how tight, hot and wet her stuff was, and it didn't take me a second to decide that being bothered with the boy would be worth it. After all, I'd volunteered with kids. I had experience with today's youth. The kid wouldn't have been that bad. Stanley was like most teenagers; they want their opinions heard and valued.
“What were you and Stanley talking about out in the back yard?” Daphne had pulled her cell phone from her purse and was going though the menu.
“The deal he and I made last night involved him working for my help. I'm planning on expanding my vegetable garden next season. To do that, I need an area of grass cleared and dug up. I was showing him where to dig.”
“And he agreed?” She sounded surprised. Her ears were listening to me, but her eyes were checking her text messages.
“Yep, he's going to expand my garden a bit, wash the first-floor windows and clean my grandmother's silverware.”
“Well. You are going to have to tell me the exact words you used, because I have never got that much work out of him.” She put the phone to her ear and began checking her voice mail.
“Your son is a challenge for you, huh?”
“D, challenge isn't the word. Please believe.” She flipped the phone closed. The warm smile fled from her face when she spoke of her son. She wasn't angry, but her mood instantly became serious. “Stanley can take me there so quick. I have to pray to stop from killing him. I hear people say âyou spare the rod you spoil the child.' Lord knows I have beat my son, beat his ass good, but he still takes me there. It's almost as if he is trying to make me accept his nonsense. As if he's going to do what he wants to regardless of what I say.
“I swear if I didn't think military schools were full of racist, domineering, child-molesting bastards I would have sent him to one. I thought of sending him to be disciplined by his supposedly gay daddy, but that has never been a real option.” She sucked her teeth and wiped nonexistent lint from her short skirt. “I suspect Stanley is entering the stage where he is changing from boy to man. That's why he thinks I'm stupid. A lot of men think women are stupid.”
Her eyes cut over to me. I had no comment.
“He needs a man in his life. The truth be said, we both need a man in our lives.” Again her eyes cut to me. “A real man, a take-charge, get-involved, decision-making man, a man who is not afraid of the responsibilities of family life. In my opinion men are supposed to lead, not offer options for consideration, which is what my current man does. I haven't had the best examples of men around Stanley. And that includes my father.”
It became obvious that she wasn't going to stop talking and offer driving directions to the lawyer's office. Instinctively, I headed downtown.
“My current man is a boy himself, an infatuated boy. I didn't date with Stanley in mind, and I should have. I dated men who could help me financially, not thinking that these men were Stanley's male role models.
“Ninety-eight percent of the men I dated thought I was stupid because they were more financially adept than I. They all erroneously concluded that since I didn't know about managing money, I didn't know about managing life. I put up with their condescending attitudes to learn about money management, but Stanley witnessed me being subservient to them.
“It wasn't like they were calling me âbitch' or slapping me around, but he did see me bow down. And I believe since he is coming into his manhood, he is expecting females to bow down and treat him in the skewed fashion he observed as a child. The budding boy wants to be a man, but he has the incorrect template.
“So yes, he is a challenge, but I am largely responsible for what he is, and I am not too proud to say that I need help in making him a man. I am trying to save my son too; save him from the male examples I provided.”
She looked out the window as she spoke, I heard her voice calming and then something my grandmother used to say entered my mind.
“Daphne, there are no perfect children or parents. Raising kids is a hard thing to do. As my grandmother would tell my mother, âBaby, after you raised some chilrens, ya have done somethin'.”
Daphne didn't comment, but she did chuckle a little; either at my bad imitation of my grandmother or at the pigeon poop that suddenly splattered on the driver's side of the windshield. Two quick pushes on the wiper control, three wipes of the blades and the poop was gone. The DTS didn't play. It did everything to exactness. Traffic going toward the loop was light. We cruised all the way downtown.
“So who is the lawyer we're going to see?” We were coming up on downtown exits and I needed directions.
“We are going to see an associate of mine. Trust me on this, D. I won't steer you wrong. Please believe.”
I had not been around Daphne enough to become familiar with what her expressions meant, but I would have bet a dollar to a doughnut that the way she sat up and the way her jaws locked meant baby girl was getting ready for a challenge.
“And you say this lawyer is familiar with how Regina's people do business?”
“Yes, very familiar.” Her tone was not friendly. It was sharp and snippy.
“Exit on the Congress Parkway, David. You can go north on Dearborn then loop around to the parking garage on LaSalle.”
Her whole persona changed once we were downtown. There was a military-like stiffness about her. A hardness was present. I said nothing; we were on her turf. A brother like me followed suit and put on my stone-hard game face.
While we were inside the parking garage the attendant directed us to a slot designated for monthly parks and didn't ask us for a dime. I thought it strange, but again she didn't comment, so neither did I.
I was cool with the hardcore demeanor while downtown. In my experience it proved best to be direct when dealing with folks in the loop. Directness is respected in Chicago. With stern face mode engaged, we were walking up LaSalle Street when Daphne threw me off. She grabbed a hold of my arm and snuggled up close to me. Her presence chased my hard exterior right away. I was back to smiling at her pretty face and finesse.
“Why you looking so mean, Mr. Price? Did I say something to offend you?”
“No, baby, you seem only capable of making me smile.”
That got me a kiss on the cheek.
The office was located in one of Chicago's older, musty buildings. We stepped from the ancient elevator, directly into the firm of Peal, MacNard and Nelson. The name of the firm was above the receptionist desk in tacky gold plastic letters. My first thought was, Damn, her lawyer must be broke.
Standing at the receptionist desk, I looked down to Daphne who gave me a “don't you get it” look before she told the receptionist, “Veronica, have Martin meet us in conference room one.”
The hint or point she thought I should have got, I didn't get. On the corner of the receptionist's desk was a message spindle, Daphne spun it to the slot labeled NELSON and took the message slips. She looked curiously back over her shoulder at me. I still hadn't gotten it. It wasn't until we walked past an office with
D. NELSON
scripted on the door did I start to get it.
D. NELSON
scripted on the door did I start to get it.
“Oh! You are a lawyer.”
A proud, youthful smile caused her eyes to sparkle. “Yes, for a little over six months.” She was obviously happy about her accomplishment.
“Wow! Color me surprised.”
“I hope you like surprises, because I have a couple more for you.” The childish smile turned devilish. Something more was brewing, I could tell because of the tingling in my armpits. Since childhood this tingling had been my early warning system.
“Not many people from my past know I practice law. I look ahead, not back. Here.” She pushed opened two large doors. “Go in and have a seat, I'll be back in a second.”
She led me into a standard meeting room. Where there should have been a long shiny cherrywood or slate table, there were instead three card tables pushed together, complete with vinyl folding chairs. Instead of prints in nice frames, there were motivational posters taped up with bits of masking tape; “Believe and achieve,” “Expect the best” and “No I in team”. The law firm's conference room looked more like a retail store's employee lunchroom.
Minutes later Daphne returned with a box full of office stuff, pictures of her with local dignitaries and her law degree. She bent over and kissed me on the cheek. “You're my backbone right now. Having you here with me is giving me the strength to do something I've been planning for weeks.”
After she slid her box of stuff under the table, a white man walked in. He was dressed in a very stylish dark blue pinstriped suit. He was followed by a brother in a forest-green, double-breasted suit. The white guy looked familiar but it didn't click as to where I had seen him.
The brother's expensive suit didn't hide his skinny build and the nice haircut couldn't do a thing with that narrow head and ping-pong-ball eyes. I didn't like the look of him.
The white guy said “Daph, I hope this doesn't take long, I'm scheduled tight today.” He pointed his pink stubby index finger at me and said, “Don't I know you?”
“I was thinking the same thing,” I answered. Normally I extend my hand when I first meet people; shaking hands is polite. However, the minute he pointed his finger at me, politeness was no longer the protocol.
“Hmph,” we both said.
The brother said nothing but kept his large eyes on me as they both joined us sitting at the card tables. Across the tables Daphne slid them each a packet of papers.
“I am leaving the firm, gentlemen. I am a partner in this firm in name only. My token days are over. I obtained a law degree to do more than attend women and minority functions.
“A couple of months ago the salary I was paid justified my not practicing law. It made your bullshit promise to start a family law arm acceptable. It is no longer acceptable. I trust you will find the papers in order. All I'm taking from you is my name. Good day.” And with that she stood and I followed.
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