“Hey, Dusty. Good morning. I could have left a message on your cell, but I thought it would be nice for you to hear a friendly voice on your office machine. Dinner was great the other night, and I hope to see you again soon.”
Shania was from Gainesville, Florida. Unlike the fired secretary, her Southern accent wasn't a smoke screen for grammatical ignorance. She had a graduate degree from Georgetown and worked for a global nonprofit organization that focused on women's rights nationally and internationally. The spunky young woman with dark curly hair had been in as many countries as Dusty had courtrooms. They met at a social event sponsored by the golf club and had gone out to dinner several times since. Dusty enjoyed talking with Shania as much as any woman he'd ever met. She had the ability to combine logic with emotion in a way that would have made her a terrific trial lawyer; however, she'd decided to use her skills to organize and lobby for women subjected to everything from household slavery and polygamy in third-world countries to denial of equal pay and reproductive freedom in Western societies. Shania's goal in life was to do as much good as she could regardless of financial reward. Dusty wanted to help people too, but he liked to get paid to do it.
Dusty logged on to his computer. He pulled up a new case he'd taken a few weeks earlier and began reading medical records obtained by Valerie. The human liver can fail for many reasons or for no known reason at all. A key aspect of every Dexadopamine case was linkage between a person's use of the supplement and a quantifiable decline in liver function without any other intervening causes. Dusty could interpret lab reports with the expertise of a hepatologist.
When the clock reached 8:30 a.m., he called the potential client. The man sleepily answered the phone, and they set an appointment for the following afternoon. Cynthia buzzed his office.
“Dusty, are you in there?”
“I've been here since seven.”
“You sure are quiet.”
“Lab reports have a way of keeping a lid on my excitement level.”
“Maybe this will excite you,” Cynthia replied. “Shania Dawkins is on line 3.”
Dusty pushed the button.
“Thanks for the message,” he said. “I enjoyed dinner too.”
“Great. Do you have a minute? I have something important to talk to you about.”
“Sure.”
“It's something I'd like us to do together.”
Dusty sat up straighter in his chair. He knew Shania liked him, but he was surprised she'd been thinking of ways to spend more time with him.
“Yes.”
“What is your firm's policy on pro bono work?”
“Uh, most of our pro bono work is used up on the contingency cases we lose.”
“This isn't a contingency case. It has to do with coercion of a mentally challenged, pregnant girl by a right-wing high school teacher.”
Dusty hesitated. Pleasing Shania might be worth a legal detour without monetary compensation.
A
s soon as first period ended, Sandy went to her car and called Jeremy's office.
“Deb, this is Sandy Lincoln. Is Jeremy available?”
“No, but he should be here any second. Would you like to leave him a voice mail?”
“Uh, could you put me on hold and let me wait? I'm between classes and need to talk to him.”
Sandy tried to relax. She'd not seen either Dr. Vale or Carol when she arrived at the school that morning, but she knew discussions and meetings about her involvement with Maria were taking place all over Rutland.
“Hello,” Jeremy said when he came on the line. “I got your message about delivery of the letter. What's been the response?”
“The counselor ignored it. She took Maria to the women's clinic in Atlanta anyway.”
Sandy told him what she'd learned from Maria.
“That's not totally unexpected,” Jeremy said when she finished. “I knew this might happen.”
“You did?” Sandy asked in surprise. “I thought they'd have to obey your letter.”
“The letter put the administration on notice of Maria's right to decide what she wants to do about the pregnancy at the time I met with her. Under the law, the choice is still hers. From what you're saying, she made a voluntary decision to go to the clinic. The letter has authority so long as it reflects Maria's current state of mind. The issue at this point is whether, considering all the facts and circumstances, the counselor exerted improper influence on Maria.”
“She told Maria it would be wrong to cancel the appointment. That's not true.”
“But does that constitute coercion?”
“Who are you representing here?” Sandy shot back.
Jeremy was silent for a moment.
“Ms. Lincoln, you asked me to advise Maria about her legal rights. That's what I'm trying to do. You're a teacher, but you're also a woman who cares about this girl. When I talked to Maria in my office, I tried to educate her about her options in a way that emphasized the life of the child within her. There's value in letting the principal and counselor know someone is watching the situation and prepared to respond on her behalf.”
Sandy was confused.
“This isn't how I thought it would work. I just want her to do the right thing.”
“I know you do, but the real battle for this baby will be fought in Maria's mind.”
“She's so easily swayed.”
“Yet neither of us thinks she needs a guardian.”
Sandy wasn't sure exactly what she thought about Jeremy Lane as a lawyer. He seemed to be talking in circles. She checked her watch.
“What should I do next?”
“Continue to find out everything you can. And ask Maria if she wants me to write another letter.”
“Another letter?” Sandy asked in shock. “The first one didn't do any good.”
“With Maria's permission, I'll notify them to advise me of any contact they have with her.”
Sandy checked her watch again.
“Look, I've got to get to class. I'll mention the possibility of another letter to Maria, but it sounds like a waste of time.”
“I understand. I'm not trying to force myself into the situation.”
“I know,” Sandy said quickly. “Sorry for venting.”
“It's okay. You care.”
Care or not, Jeremy had kept his cool when she didn't. Sandy returned to her classroom.
Shortly before first lunch period ended, Maria came by as Sandy was finishing up with another student.
“How are you?” Sandy asked as soon as she and Maria were alone.
“I felt a little sick this morning, but I didn't throw up.”
“Good. Have you talked with Ms. Ramsey?”
“No, but she usually finds me in the afternoon.”
Sandy told Maria about her conversation with Jeremy Lane.
“He can write another letter to Dr. Vale and Ms. Ramsey,” Sandy said, “but it won't do any good unless you make Ms. Ramsey obey the letter.”
Maria glanced down at the floor for a moment.
“It's hard for me. When I talk to you I feel one way, but I feel another way when I talk to her.”
In Maria's presence Sandy didn't have the heart to scold her. The pregnant student was a sixteen-year-old girl with a limited education and deprived cultural background. Everyone in her world was a dominant authority figure.
“I'm not mad at you,” Sandy reassured her in a soft voice. “But I think it would be a good idea if you talk to Mr. Lane and me before making any big decisions. I'm here for you anytime, day or night.
You know that, don't you?”
Maria nodded. “Yes.”
“And Mr. Lane can give you advice about the law.”
“Sometimes he uses words I don't understand, but I act like I do.”
“Tell me when that happens. Do you want him to write a second letter?”
Maria hesitated. “No, I want him to talk to you, then you can talk to me.”
“That will only work if you let me know what Ms. Ramsey says,” Sandy responded patiently. “Will you do that?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I'll let Mr. Lane know.”
During her lunch break, Sandy didn't go to the cafeteria but closed the door of her classroom and called Jeremy's office. He wasn't in.
“You can give me a detailed message if you like,” Deb said. “We talked about Maria this morning after he spoke with you.”
Sandy hesitated; however, Jeremy seemed to rely on his assistant. She told Deb about her conversation with Maria.
“Got it,” Deb said when she finished. “We'll try to make that work. All of us want to avoid what happened to the woman in Florida who filed a lawsuit against a doctor and his clinic for a forced abortion.”
“Forced abortion?”
“Sounds like something from China, doesn't it? The woman told the doctor to stop at the very beginning of the procedure, but he didn't. He ended up perforating her uterus and pulling out part of her intestines while workers at the clinic held her down. He claimed it was a busy day, and he didn't have time to argue with her since she'd already signed consent papers.”
Sandy's stomach turned over. She definitely wouldn't be eating any lunch.
“We can't let anything like that happen to Maria,” she said numbly.
When the call ended Sandy leaned back in her chair. She knew the statistics. Since
Roe v. Wade
millions of babies had diedâa large percentage of an entire generation wiped out. And countless women were dealing with nagging questions, lingering regrets, physical trauma, and crushing psychological problems.
The horror of what had happened to Angelica came back with fresh pain. Angelica's trip to the emergency room to treat her uncontrolled bleeding, although not as terrible as the injuries suffered by the woman in Florida, was nevertheless hurt piled upon hurt.
Thinking about Angelica, Sandy's determination to help Maria, regardless of the personal consequences to herself, stiffened. Maria was one among the millions of young pregnant women in America, but she was the one in Sandy's basket. If Maria wanted to give her baby a chance at life, Sandy would do everything she could to help make that happen.
During her afternoon walk with Nelson, Sandy heard a car horn beep behind her. Jessica pulled over to the curb and lowered the passenger window of her car. Sandy leaned in the window.
“Get in, and we'll sit here for a minute,” Jessica said. “I have to hear the latest. It's all I've been thinking about.”
Sandy tied Nelson to a nearby tree.
“It's been a roller-coaster ride,” Sandy said, “but not because of Jeremy. It has to do with the pregnant girl I'm trying to help.”
“I'm praying for her, but I can't get Jeremy out of my mind. Have you seen him again?”
“Yes.”
Sandy told her about the second trip to the lawyer's office, including the encounter with Leanne and Zach.
“I'm glad Zach is going to be okay,” Jessica said. “I thought it might be a collarbone fracture from the way you described the fall.”
“I can't wait for you to meet them.”