by Susan Rieger
Clients also need to keep in mind that their interests and their lawyers’ don’t perfectly coincide. Lawyers work for their clients, but also for themselves. A lawyer has a reputation to maintain, other clients to service, an office to run, bills to pay, a practice to cultivate, and a private life to live, factors all of which influence her actions on the client’s behalf. No client ever feels his lawyer gives his case the attention it deserves, and no lawyer can give it that kind of attention. There’s too much going on in the lawyer’s life, too little time, and, more often than not, too little money (even at $75 an hour). In divorce, there are very few satisfied customers. As in book publishing or home renovation, people enter the lawyer-client relationship with unreasonable expectations. (The publisher will run a nationwide ad campaign; the builder will give me my dream kitchen and still come in under budget; the lawyer will get me everything I want and deserve.) The first task of a good divorce lawyer is to educate the client, to get him to understand that negotiation is a two-way street and that the best agreement is one that allows each side to claim victory on some grounds. The most satisfactory divorces I’ve handled have ended up with both the husband and wife feeling slightly but tolerably aggrieved. There are no winners in divorce, but there don’t have to be any losers.
*You can pick up a copy of the Narragansett Do It Yourself Divorce Guide, published by the Narragansett Judicial Branch, from the Tyler County Clerk or the New Salem Law Society Library. This booklet outlines all the steps in a pro se divorce and includes copies of all the forms; it is intended only for “uncomplicated cases,” where the spouses “agree on the basic issues.” There are also books, published by commercial publishers, that outline the steps in a pro se divorce and provide sample agreements as well as the official forms. An example is The Uncontested Divorce in Narragansett: A How-To Manual, published by SelfHelp Press.
**A final note about mediation. A trained mediator who is a member of the New Salem Mediation Bureau can handle a divorce if—and here comes a series of big ifs—the parties both think mediation is the way to go; they have comparable resources; they are prepared to be not merely reasonable but generous; they love their children and have their best interests at heart; and they are not at daggers with each other. After coming to an agreement, each of them needs to hire a lawyer to look over the agreement and make sure it’s fair. (Narragansett law requires that.)
***The income cutoff is $17,000 a year. As of December 20, Legal Services was doing divorces, but with all the cutbacks that they’ve been facing, they may decide that their resources are better spent on more urgent cases. Call before turning up on their doorstep (393-555-0101).
****You can also consult the Law Society (393-555-6789), which will provide you with the names of divorce specialists along with their professional biographies. Once you’ve collected a number of names, call three of them and make appointments, asking first what it will cost, if anything, to have a consultation about representation. ■
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
MEMORANDUM
Attorney Work Product
From: Sophie Diehl
To: David Greaves
RE: Your Treatise on Finding a Lawyer
Date: May 10, 1999
Attachments:
The bit about liking your lawyer. I never thought about that or most of the other things you said. My cases are all assigned by a court or a senior partner, and criminal clients are notoriously ungrateful. Last year I spent 7 months negotiating with the DA on an armed robbery case (serious stuff, armed robbery), and when I got the perp a 48-month sentence (including time served), 18 months off the oxymoronic mandatory minimum for a repeat offender, he said: “Why did I need a lawyer for that?” I wanted to say, “Don’t take the deal. Go to trial,” but I didn’t. Joe’s first rule of client representation is: “Roll with the insults. These are people who aren’t allowed to have shoelaces.”
I need more advice. I’d like to find a way of burying the hatchet with Fiona, other than in my back. If I say hello to her, she says, “Oh,…Sophie … you,” and turns away. If I run into her in the kitchen, she’ll leave directly, saying something like, “I’ll get out of your way.” The other day I asked her for advice on the Durkheim case, a real question on rehabilitation alimony; you weren’t here, nor was Felix, and I didn’t want to screw up the way I did with the medical degree. We were in the hallway outside her office. I had gone there to talk to her. She said, “Just read the cases, read the statutes, read the New Salem Law Journal. It’s not rocket science.” Then she turned her back to me, went into her office, and closed the door. Have you heard the joke about Irish Alzheimer’s? They forget everything but the grievances.
Does this go on with other lawyers in the firm? What do I do?
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
MEMORANDUM
Attorney Work Product
From: Sophie Diehl
To: David Greaves
RE: Maria Meiklejohn
Date: May 11, 1999
Attachments: May 6 Letter from MMM
This morning’s mail brought a letter from Mia Meiklejohn, an account of a fight with her husband, precipitated by our letter and discovery request to Ray Kahn. She certainly held her own.
I love that Meiklejohn’s company is called Octopus Enterprises, but what does that stand for? Why not Orca? Or King Kong?
MARIA MATHER MEIKLEJOHN
404 ST. CLOUD STREET
NEW SALEM, NA 06556
May 6, 1999
Anne Sophie Diehl
Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski
222 Church Street
New Salem, NA 06555
Dear Sophie:
David’s letter to Ray Kahn and discovery request set off a bomb. Danny was furious. He came up to my room last night and ranted at me. How could I think he had hidden assets? What right did my lawyers have to see his research grants? And what in hell gave my lawyers the balls (his word) to tell him to attend Parent Education Classes? He said I had been a “fucking albatross” hanging around his neck for years. He asked me to move out of the house—with Jane; he said he had found an apartment for us at the Albany (three bedrooms, big living room, nice kitchen, good views, parking place) and would pay the rent, $1,600 a month, until we signed a settlement. He’d pay for the move too. There were more personal attacks too. He called me a parasite, sucking the life out of everyone around me, and a dilettante, who wouldn’t grow up. “Get on with your life,” he bellowed, “and get out of mine.”
I used to fold when he yelled at me like that, but I didn’t this time. I yelled back. I told him if he fought me on custody for Jane, I’d fight him all the way to the Supreme Court, adding as a coda, “You’ll be 60 before we’re divorced.” I told him I wouldn’t move out until we had a signed agreement, so he had better get serious and come up with a reasonable offer. And I said if Dr. Stephanie kept calling the house, I’d start calling her house and her office. That last remark really set him off. He said I was sick and a madwoman. “If you ever call or threaten her, I’ll grind you to dust.” That really got me going. “That’s great, that’s terrific,” I said. “You think I’m crazy to call her, but it’s okay for her to call your house, where your child lives. It’s okay if Jane finds out her father is screwing another woman.” That stopped him cold. He looked stunned and then walked out without another word.
I’m right, aren’t I, not to move out until we’ve got a settlement? It’s the only real leverage I have on him. It’s not just that he wants the house, he wants me out of it. If I leave without an agreement, he’ll then take his time and try to starve me into submission.
I’m beginning to feel sorry for you, sorry I asked you to take on my case. When I’m a lawyer, I won’t do divorces. (But you said that, too.) This has become s
o awful, so ugly. If you had met Danny and me socially, you’d have liked us. I used to like us. He used to call me Mia Bella.
Thanks for your help and support.
Yours,
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
MEMORANDUM
Attorney Work Product
From: David Greaves
To: Sophie Diehl
RE: Maria Meiklejohn’s Letter; Finding a Lawyer; Business in New York
Date: May 11, 1999
Attachments:
What were you doing in college? Didn’t you ever read Frank Norris’s The Octopus? It is Bruce Meiklejohn’s favorite book. The company is named for the book itself, not the Southern Pacific Railroad. Or maybe it is.
I didn’t realize that you and Fiona were still at odds, but of course, it happens with others in the firm. What should you do? You’ve no choice, you have to suck it up, as your generation so vividly puts it. It happens all the time. We make enemies, sometimes through no fault of our own, and sometimes our enemies become badges of honor. I don’t know if you know, but my father was on Nixon’s Enemy’s List. He was very proud to have made it and counted it among his lifetime achievements. When he was interviewed by the Courier for his obituary, he asked them to include it. They did. My mother was very proud too. This may not be any consolation to you. There may be no consolation. Just keep doing your work. And don’t respond in kind to Fiona. Joe’s rule is a good one across the board.
I’ll be out of town, in New York on business, for the next two days. There’s a meeting of the board of Octopus Enterprises. I don’t expect to be back until Friday afternoon at the earliest, so you don’t need to have the draft of the Durkheim letter and counteroffer to me until Monday afternoon.
Adults May Be Misbehaving
* * *
From: Sophie Diehl
To: Maggie Pfeiffer
Date: Tue, 11 May 1999 22:18:29
Subject: Adults May Be Misbehaving 5/11/99 10:18 PM
Dear Maggie—
It never seems to end. This morning I got a memo from DG saying he was going to be in New York City for the rest of the week. Meanwhile, my stepfather is off in Colorado hiking with his sons. What do you bet that DG and Maman are having a rendezvous? DG hardly ever goes to NY on business.
These are the scenarios I’ve imagined late at night. (1) Maman and DG have an affair, which goes badly. DG is hurt and full of resentment. He decides that I’m too painful a reminder. I am fired. (2) Maman and DG have an affair, and Fiona finds out and makes trouble for DG and me. I am fired. (3) Maman and DG fall madly in love and decide to divorce their current spouses and get married, which succeeds in ruining both my professional and personal lives. I quit. (4) Maman and DG have a fling; DG breaks it off, having vowed never to do this kind of thing. Maman is philosophique. (5) The Nelson Rockefeller scenario: DG has a heart attack in a hotel room while Maman is with him. (This one is so awful, I never go any further.)
There was a time in my life, barely two months ago, when I never thought about divorce or adultery—I thought I was doing a halfway decent job putting my parents’ messes behind me. Since I was hog-tied into doing this divorce: I’m practicing a kind of law I don’t like; Fiona has me in her sights; my mother and my boss are playing with fire; and the man I was falling in love with turns out to have a crazy wife with whom he’s still in love. Is this chaos theory? (I wrote a memo to DG about Fiona this week. I shouldn’t have done it. I sounded childish, pathetic; he was not at all sympathetic.)
I don’t know what to do about Harry. I hate having this feeling of being stuck and unhappy. Which reminds me: I think Papa and Sally may be having tough times. He’s being very difficult. (Nothing new there, but there’s a sharper edge to his unhappiness. Luc noticed it, too.) He’s staying by himself up at the country house most of the week. And this summer he’s planning to be in England, to do research on his book on the Boer War, and I don’t think Sally’s going with him.
I don’t think humans, as a species, are very highly evolved. (And we’re not evolving anymore, apparently. I read it in the Times. Because everyone now reaches reproductive age, we’re no longer weeding out the weak stock.) Look at all these people: they’re all smart, well educated, meaningfully employed, living in the richest country in the world, surrounded by people who care for them. Still, they’re unhappy and misbehaving. What more do they need? What more do I need?
I’m obsessing and free-associating, aren’t I? Off to bed then.
Love,
Sophie
Lawyers’ Names
* * *
From: Sophie Diehl
To: Harry Mortensen
Date: Wed, 12 May 1999 20:49:58
Subject: Lawyers’ Names 5/12/99 8:49 PM
Dear Harry—
I asked my boss for some lawyers’ names. It turns out he’s written an article on finding a divorce lawyer for the local paper. I’ve put a copy of the article in the mail. It gives very good advice on choosing a private lawyer as well as some cheaper ideas for representation (Legal Aid, do-it-yourself kits). He also gave me the names of three local lawyers. I called and left their names on your answering machine. He says they’re all good lawyers. They’re younger—and correspondingly cheaper—than older lawyers, but they’re experienced in matrimonial law. The first is a solo practitioner, the second a member of a small firm, and the last a senior associate at a large one.
I hope this is helpful. If you need anything else, let me know.
Take care of yourself.
Yours,
Sophie
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
ATTORNEYS AT LAW
May 12, 1999
Maria Mather Meiklejohn
404 St. Cloud Street
New Salem, NA 06556
Dear Mia:
Please don’t worry about saddling me with your troubles. We lawyers traffic in human misery; we make our money off of it. I only wish I could be more helpful to you during these difficult times.
You are right to stay put now, and both David and I would advise you strongly against moving out before you’ve reached and signed a settlement. While you have the money from the savings account available to you for your current expenses and the treasury bills in reserve, if you moved out without a settlement, you would not be able to make any concrete plans for your future (where you’ll live, if you can afford Mather Law School, whether you can buy Prada). You would also have effectively ceded the house to him, before the negotiations had begun. And then there is the matter of the furnishings, including the rug and the Jenny Holzer. Hold your ground. Stay put.
I say this knowing that his offer of putting you and Jane up in the Albany is especially tempting because he would be in effect relinquishing his claim to physical custody. But in fact, he is giving up nothing. You will not lose Jane; you are and have always been her primary caretaker, and there’s no way he can show that you are unfit. Reread Paynter if you’re feeling scared.
I am drafting our counteroffer. As soon as I have finished, I’ll be in touch to run it by you.
Yours,
Anne Sophie Diehl
* * *
Re: Adults May Be Misbehaving
From: Maggie Pfeiffer
To: Sophie Diehl
Date: Wed, 12 May 1999 16:14:03
Subject: Re: Adults May Be Misbehaving 5/12/99 4:14 PM
Sophie, Sophie, Sophie,
What am I to do with you? Forget about your mother and DG. Misbehaving is one of the prerogatives of adulthood. If it’s anyone’s problem, it’s Jake’s, not yours. And nothing is going on.
All this fuss you’re making, it’s about you and Harry, not your mother and DG. Coming from those soigne European parents, how did you g
et to be such a thoroughgoing buttoned-down American? You look like them, so I know you’re theirs. What is it Jake always says? Being grown-up means tolerating ambiguity.
When we were little, I wanted your parents to adopt me. They were so sophisticated, so charming, so romantic, so intellectual, so glamorous, and so, so generous. They took me in, they talked to me, they listened to me and encouraged me. They took me along to Wellfleet every summer; they paid for my college applications and textbooks; they threw birthday parties for me. Your dad was the one who made me apply to Harvard. Your mother came to every play I was ever in and told me I could be an actress. I would have walked on coals for them. (They walked on water to me.) And you won’t cut them any slack. You’ve got to let go, Sophie; you’ve got to let them be. They shouldn’t matter that much, not anymore.
If in fact your mom’s having a fling with DG, you don’t have to worry. She’s not going to leave Jake. And she’ll make sure that she and DG part on good terms. She knows how to do that. And Jake will never find out unless she wants him to.
Stop thinking about what your parents are up to, and start thinking about Harry. Do you really want to walk away?
Love,
Maggie
I’m Hopeless
* * *
From: Sophie Diehl
To: Maggie Pfeiffer
Date: Thu, 13 May 1999 1:32:47
Subject: I’m Hopeless 5/13/99 1:32 AM
Dear Maggie,
The truth is, I haven’t in some ways gotten over my parents’ divorce. It’s been, what, 13 years? At the end, they were so awful, we couldn’t wait until they split, but until then they were, as you say, wonderful. I had the best childhood ever. I even liked junior high school. I know they’re happier now. I know they’ll never get back together. But the divorce broke my heart. If they had been normal-sized, maybe I could have gotten over it. (If they were normal-sized, maybe they would have stayed married.) Maman called the divorce Waterloo: “The English vanquished the French,” she said, shrugging. “They always do. We’ve got no principles, no convictions. We’d rather eat than fight.” (Papa used to quote Churchill on the French to us: “They were rotten on the inside before they crumbled from without.”) You’re right. I’m not French, and I’m not English. I’m a petite bourgeoise, of a distinctly American stripe. To top it off, I’ve got an unforgiving heart. Maman once said I was more lovable than loving—after I broke up with Jack. She didn’t say it unkindly, only matter-of-factly, the way she might have said I have yellow eyes, not brown. I was mortified. But I didn’t change; I couldn’t. I never spoke to Jack again. And that’s how I feel now, with Harry. I remember history and I repeat it. Stuff it, Santayana.