“Here? You're having it here?” He looked terrified as he stared at her, unable to believe it.
“I don't know … I … it … oh God, Sam …it's awful … I can't do this …”
“Yes, you can …we'll get you drugs at the hospital …don't worry about it … go put some clothes on.”
In the end, he'd had to help her dress and find her shoes, and he had never seen her as vulnerable, or in as much pain. The doorman had found them a cab instantly. It was four a.m., and she could hardly walk when they got her to the hospital. The doctor was already waiting for them there, and the labor nurses were well pleased with Alex's progress. She, on the other hand, was a lot less pleased with the process they referred to happily as “transition.” She sounded like someone Sam didn't even know as she shouted for drugs, and got hysterical with each contraction. But as labor progressed, she calmed down finally, and two hours after they'd gotten to the hospital, Alex was hard at work pushing out their baby. She'd had an epidural finally, and was calmer, as Sam held her shoulders and everyone in the room cheered her on. It seemed to take forever, but it was only half an hour before Annabelle's little face appeared. She had bright red hair, and she let out a huge yell, and then as though she'd surprised herself, she looked up at Sam, as tears coursed down her parents' cheeks. Annabelle just stared at Sam, as though she had been looking for him for a long time and had finally found him. She was introduced to her mother then, and Alex held her, overwhelmed by emotions she had never even dreamed of. She felt complete in a way she had heard people talk about, but never believed, and she couldn't even imagine what her life would have been like if she'd missed this experience. Within an hour, she was holding Annabelle as though she were an old hand at it, and happily nursing her baby. Sam took a thousand photographs of them, as he and Alex cried, unable to believe the blessing that had been bestowed on them, the miracle they had almost missed, and fortunately hadn't. They had been spared from their own stupidity, they felt, by a wiser Power who had showered them with good fortune.
Sam spent the first night in the hospital with them, and he and Alex spent most of it staring down at Annabelle, taking turns holding her, wrapping her and unwrapping her, changing her diapers and her nightgown, and Sam watched raptly as Alex nursed her. He thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and as they looked at her, they both agreed, what they wanted now was another baby. They couldn't believe that they had almost deprived themselves of this. And Sam could hardly believe that Alex was willing even to think about it so soon after the ordeal of labor, but she said it to him as they kissed over Annabelle sleeping soundly between them.
“I want to do this again.”
“You're not serious.” He looked stunned, but pleased. He had been thinking exactly the same thing. He would have loved a son, but another little girl would be fine too. Their little girl was so perfect and so beautiful. He kept touching her tiny toes, and Alex kept kissing her tiny fingers. They were completely enamored with their daughter.
It remained a passion with them once they got home, and Annabelle flourished in the unbridled adoration of her parents. Sam came home early as often as he could. And Alex went back to the office, with regret, when Annabelle was three months old. She tried to continue nursing her even after that, but it became impossible with the pressures of her schedule. What she did instead was come home for lunch as often as she could, and she made a promise to herself to leave promptly at five, whenever she wasn't in trial, and work at home at night after Annabelle went to bed. And on Fridays, she left at one o'clock, come hell or high water. It was a system that worked for them, and she was religious about coming home promptly whenever possible. And in exchange for their love and efforts, and their incessant appreciation of her, Annabelle adored her Mommy and Daddy. She was the light of their lives, and they were all that mattered to her. Carmen took care of her in the daytime, but Sam and Alex took care of her themselves the moment they got home from work, and Annabelle lived for that moment. She would squeal with excitement and delight whenever she saw them.
Carmen liked working for them. She was crazy about Annabelle, and they were nice people. She bragged a lot about Alex and Sam, about how important they were, and how hard they worked, and how successful. Sam was in the financial columns a lot. He had made a big splash early on, and had continued to make news frequently with record-making deals for important clients. And Alex had been on television more than once, with exceptionally newsworthy or landmark cases. Carmen loved that.
And there was no question in Alex's and Sam's minds that Annabelle was not only beautiful, but absolutely brilliant. She walked promptly at ten and a half months, spoke clearly shortly after that, and spoke in sentences long before it was expected.
“She's going to be a lawyer,” Alex always teased Sam, but neither of them could deny how incredibly she resembled her mother. She looked just like Alex, and even her mannerisms looked like a miniature version of her mother's.
In fact, the only disappointment to them was that their efforts to get pregnant again had been surprisingly unfruitful. They started when Annabelle was six months old, and had tried for a year after that. Alex was forty by then, and decided to go to a specialist to see if anything was wrong. But she and Sam had both checked out, and there was no problem with either of them. The doctor had just explained that, at her age, conception often took longer. At forty-one, they had put her on Serophene, a form of progesterone, to “improve” her ovulations, and for the past year and a half she had taken the drug that seemed to add more stress to her life than she already had. They were making love on schedule, using a kit to tell them exactly when her LH surge was, and when the optimum time was for conception. Alex had to add her urine to a series of chemicals, and when they turned blue, it was time for Sam to rush home from die office. They laughingly called it “blue day,” but there was no doubt that the pressure it put on them didn't make things any easier in lives that were already filled with stress and tension provided by their clients, and in Alex's case, her opponents.
It was not an easy time for them, but it was something they both agreed they wanted very badly. And it seemed funny to both of them that after so many years of emphatically not wanting children, they were now willing to go to any lengths to pursue having them. They had even talked about her taking Pergonal shots, which was a more extreme solution than the Serophene pills, with other side effects. And they also considered in vitro fertilization. They hadn't ruled out either of the more elaborate treatments. But at forty-two, she still felt she had a chance for conception without such heroic measures, particularly with the hormones she was currently taking. That in itself was already a big commitment, because taking them was anything but easy for her. She was one of those people who reacted severely to medication. But she felt it was worth it, because she and Sam both wanted another baby so badly. Annabelle had taught them many things, mainly how sweet life could be with the bond of a child between them, and how much they had missed in their years of childlessness. They both had impressive careers to show for it, but now she felt that they had missed something far more important.
Annabelle was three and a half years old by then, and Alex's and Sam's hearts melted every time they saw her. Her hair was a halo of coppery curls, her eyes were huge and green, just like her mother's, and her face was dusted with a thin veil of what Alex called “fairy dust,” which were her freckles.
There was a huge photograph of her, holding a shovel on the beach the summer before, in Quogue, as Alex sat at her desk and glanced up at it, with a quick grin. She glanced at her watch again. The deposition she'd sat in on had cost her the better part of her morning, and she had less than an hour now to go over some papers before she met with a new client.
She glanced up as Brock Stevens came in. He was one of the young associates in the firm, and he worked exclusively for her and one other attorney, doing research, and legwork, preparing cases for trial for her. He'd only been with Bartlett and Paskin for two years, but she was impre
ssed with him, and his handling of her cases.
“Hi, Alex …got a sec? I know you've had a busy morning.”
“That's okay. Come on in.” She smiled up at him. At thirty-two, he still looked like a boy to her, he had sandy blond good looks, and looked like everyone's kid brother. He had gone to a state law school in Illinois, and she knew he came from a simple family with very little money. But he had worked his way through school, and he burned with a real fire for the law. It was a feeling that had always governed her life too, and she had a lot of admiration for him.
He strode across the room, and sat down across her desk from her, with a serious look, his shirtsleeves rolled up and his tie askew, which also made him look younger. “How was the depo?”
“Pretty good. I think Matt got lucky. His principal defendant let his slip show, and I think Matt may have gotten just what he wanted. He's wearing them down anyway, but it's still going to take forever. That case would drive me crazy.”
“Me too, but it's interesting making history with it. They're setting a lot of precedents. I like that.” He was so young and alive and filled with dreams, sometimes she thought he was naive, personally, but he was also an extraordinarily fine lawyer.
“So whatcha got? Anything new on the Schultz case?”
“Yup.” He smiled happily at her. “We hit pay dirt. The plaintiffs been cheating on his taxes for the past two years. He's not going to look great to the jury. That's why they've been resisting giving us his records.”
“Nice. Very nice.” Alex smiled at him. “How'd you find out?” They had had to file a separate motion to get the financial records, and they had finally come in that morning.
“It's pretty easy to figure out what he did. I'll show you later. I think this might open us up for a settlement, if you can get Mr. Schultz to settle.”
“I doubt it,” she said thoughtfully. Jack Schultz owned a small company that had been sued twice, unfairly, by previous employees. It was the latest game to win fat settlements from employers who didn't want to be hassled. But settling had created precedents for him, and now he was being sued by another previous employee, who had been skimming money from the company and taking illegal kickbacks, but was trying to sue Jack Schultz for discrimination. And this time Schultz did not want to settle. He wanted to develop a reputation for fighting and winning.
“I think we've got what we need anyway. With that testimony about kickbacks from the guy in New Jersey, I think we can bury the plaintiff.”
“I'm counting on it.” She smiled at him. They were set for trial the following Wednesday.
“I have a feeling the plaintiffs attorney will call you about a settlement sometime this week, now that we've got their financial records. What are you going to tell them?”
“To take a flying leap. Poor Jack deserves a win on this one. And he's right, you can't keep rolling over to settle. I wish more employers had the guts to do what Jack is doing.”
“It's cheaper to settle, most of them don't want to be bothered.” But they both knew that there was definitely a growing trend among businesses to fight and win, rather than to buy off their opponents with settlements that rewarded plaintiffs for filing bad lawsuits. Alex had won several of those cases the year before, and she had a great reputation for defendants' work in suits like this one. “Are you ready for trial?” he asked her, but he also knew that in Alex's case, that was a foolish question. She was always extraordinarily well prepared, she was extremely knowledgeable about the law, did all her homework, and then some. And he always tried to back her up in every way he possibly could so that there would be no surprises for her in the courtroom. He liked working for her. She was tough, but fair, and she never expected anyone to work harder than she did. He didn't mind the hundreds of hours he spent working, preparing cases for her, he always learned a great deal from her strategy. She never put herself out on a limb unless she was absolutely sure she wouldn't hurt her client by taking risks, and she always warned them fully of the risks she was taking.
Brock wanted to be a partner like her someday, and he knew that time was not far off. He also knew that, given their successful working relationship, Alex would be more than willing to recommend him. Although she complained occasionally that once he made partner, which she hoped wouldn't be soon, she would have no one decent to do her grunt work. He also knew from the other partner he worked for in the firm, that Alex had already put a good word in for him to Matthew Billings, though Alex would never admit it.
“Who's the new client you're seeing today?” He was always interested in what she did. And what's more, he liked her.
“I'm not sure. He was actually referred by another firm. I think he wants to sue an attorney, in another law firm.” She was always leery of those, unless she felt they were truly justified. Being a litigator frequently had its downside. She wound up with a lot of people across the desk from her who were looking to take out their anger against the world on people who did not deserve it. The miserable and the bitter and the greedy frequently thought that their lot in life could be improved by a lawsuit, and Alex never took those cases, unless she felt their claims were justified, which they usually weren't.
“Anyway, do whatever you can to wrap up Schultz, and why don't we spend tomorrow morning going over it. It's Friday tomorrow, so I'm leaving at one, but that should give us enough time to sum it up pretty squarely, and I'll go over the files again this weekend. I want to read all the depositions again and make sure I didn't miss anything.” She frowned as she made a note on her calendar to meet with him at eight-thirty the next morning. She had no other meetings scheduled for the entire day, and she usually saved Fridays for in-house business.
“I've been going over the depositions all week for just that. I made some notes I'll show you tomorrow. There's some real good stuff in there you'll want to use, and I made some indications about the videos too.” They had videotaped some of the depositions. It was a tool which she sometimes found useful, and if nothing else, it aggravated the opponents.
“Thanks, Brock.” He was a godsend for her. As busy as she was, without a good associate to work for her, she'd have been lost in a sea of cases. She had an excellent assistant too, a law clerk who spent as much time with Brock as he did with Alex. They were a good team, and they all knew it. “I'll see you at eight-thirty tomorrow. Thanks for the diligent preparation.” But it was nothing new for him, it was his style, just as it was Alex's. He was thorough and smart, and a nice guy. And it also helped that he wasn't married. He had lots of spare time to spend on work, late at night, over holidays, on weekends. He was willing to do what he had to to build an important career. At times, he reminded her of her and Sam in their early days. They worked just as hard now, but differently, there wasn't that blind hard push that kept you in the office till midnight, as it had for them years before. Now they had Annabelle and each other, and they wanted more out of life than just careers. But fortunately for her, Brock Stevens wasn't there yet. She knew he had seen someone in the firm for a while, another associate, a very attractive girl who'd gone to Stanford, but Alex also knew that Brock valued his career too much to risk getting too involved with anyone from the law firm. There were rules against that, and getting serious with another associate, or a partner, might keep him, or her, from making partner. And Alex knew that both he and the other associate were too ambitious, and too sensible, to let that happen.
She met with the new client shortly after that, and she was very llikewarm about what she heard from him. It was an ugly case, and she was not at all convinced that the plaintiff in this case wasn't lying. Generally, she preferred defense work. She told him that she'd think about it and discuss it with her partners, but that she felt that her own schedule at the moment, and the number of cases she had pending trial, could well keep her from giving him the kind of attention she felt he deserved, and was certain he wanted. She was very diplomatic with him, but very firm, and promised to call him in a few days after a meeting with her part
ners. She had no intention of meeting with anyone. She just needed some time to think it over, but she doubted very seriously that she'd take it.
And at five o'clock sharp, she looked at her watch, buzzed her secretary, Liz Hascomb, at the desk outside, and told her she was leaving. She left at five o'clock every day, whenever she could, and her schedule allowed it. She signed a few letters her secretary had left, jotted a few notes, and buzzed her again with a few instructions. A few minutes later, Elizabeth Hascomb came in to pick up the notes from her, and she and Alex exchanged a smile. Elizabeth was a widow who was approaching retirement age, and she had had four children of her own. She admired the fact that Alex thought enough of her little girl to go home to be with her as early as she could every night. It proved to Elizabeth that she was not just a good lawyer, but she was a good woman, and a good mother. And she liked that. She had six grandchildren of her own, and she loved hearing stories about Annabelle, or seeing photographs of her when Alex brought them into the office.
“Give Miss Annabelle my love. How's she doing in school?”
“She loves it.” Alex smiled, dropping the last of her papers in her briefcase. “Don't forget to send Matthew Billings my notes from this morning, please. And I'll need all the Schultz files on my desk when I come in tomorrow. I have a meeting with Brock on it at eight-thirty.” There were a thousand things she was going to have to think of. The Schultz trial was set to start the following Wednesday and she was liable to be out of the office for a week or more, which meant she had to take care of as much as she could before that. It was going to be a grim Monday and Tuesday.
“See you in the morning.” Alex smiled warmly at Liz, who also knew that if an emergency arose after Alex left, she could call her at home, or send papers up to her by messenger if she had to. As devoted as Alex was to Annabelle, she was never completely out of contact. And when Alex was in court, she always wore a beeper.
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