Broken Women

by Anne Hagan

  Chapter 6

  Wednesday, June 5th, 2013

  Meecham and Seer Law offices

  Denver, Colorado

  “They’re offering to settle.”

  “They take their offer and shove it. I don’t owe them a thing and Lisa sure didn’t either; bunch of blood suckers…”

  “Now just wait, hear me out.” Frazier Cross, the young lawyer who’d been dogging the case for the past couple of months, held up a hand to me. “This very well may not go our way. We may want to give serious consideration to a settlement offer.”

  “You’ve heard something you’re not telling me, haven’t you?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that.”

  I caught the nervous shake of his hand as he pushed his glasses up a little on the bridge of his nose. “Why do I feel like I’m about to get royally screwed then?”

  Cross cleared his throat but his voice still cracked a little when he spoke. “Ms. Wysocki, when Ms. Falk made out her last will and testament, it was just after the two of you married, correct?”

  “Yes. We both did wills at the same time. You have to be careful when your marriage isn’t universally recognized…fat lot of good that it did us.” I couldn’t see where this was going but he was quick to fill me in.

  “At the time, there was one bar owned in her name. It was not specifically named to you in her will. It simply refers to ‘business assets’; nothing more detailed.”

  “That’s because we had no way of knowing at that time what business assets we would have control of at a given point in time, should either one of us pass on.”

  He was quiet.

  “Are you saying we should have named everything and updated our wills every time something changed? Because we didn’t, its coming back to bite me?”

  “In an ideal world yes, you would have done as you suggested.”

  “So what do you think the outcome will be if we don’t settle?”

  “The court is likely to order the three bars held in Ms. Falk’s name to be sold, all attorney fees and court costs paid, her final expenses be paid and the remaining proceeds divided four ways.”

  A horrible taste invaded my mouth. I shook with rage. Taking a few deep breaths first to try and calm down, I finally leveled him with my gaze. “Those people have been no part whatsoever of Lisa’s life for nearly twenty years. It’s my own fault, I know; had I not told them she passed, we wouldn’t even be here. I’ll be damned if I’m going to just hand them 3/4ths of her estate, her life’s work!”

  “If we don’t settle, you won’t have a choice.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “As I can be. I told you once before, we’re not in the odds laying business but precedents have been established in the courts that point toward the sort of outcome I’ve given you.”

  Sighing, I resigned myself to what appeared to be inevitable, “What sort of deal are you recommending we make?”

  “Your home and the business in Steamboat are yours, free and clear under joint tenancy. We don’t even put those on the table. We stipulate that all of Ms. Falk’s personal assets – her car, her IRA – roll over to you.”

  “Those vultures don’t want those things anyway. They’re in this for a big cash windfall. The money is in the businesses.”

  “Right,” he nodded. “So, we propose that you keep one of the three bars and liquidate the other two. I would suggest selling the two you think would be the easiest to move in the current business climate. The resulting monies would be split between the three plaintiffs minus court costs and their attorney fees. They would agree to have no further claim on Ms. Falk’s estate.”

  “What about Lisa’s bills and your fees?”

  He leaned back and pursed his lips.

  “So those are on me?”

  Chapter 7

  Tuesday, July 16th, 2013

  Owl Title Company

  Steamboat Springs, Colorado

  “I just want to move on with my life and be allowed to grieve for Lisa. I can’t do that with so much debt hanging over my head.”

  Cross stared at me for a minute but I didn’t back down. “Let’s go in then and get this deal done, then,” he finally said.

  Kane, Roger and the male title agent rose as we entered the conference room but I waved them back into their seats.

  “Ma’am, gentlemen,” Cross began to address all of those assembled in the room before we were even seated.

  I put a hand on his arm to draw his focus back to me and, once I had it, I told him, “I’ve got this.”

  Nodding to my two friends Kane and Roger and to the woman, presumably their lawyer, seated to Kane’s right, I jumped right in, “So, you want to buy Willie’s and I want to sell it. I think we’re all in agreement on that, right?” There were nods and smiles all around. “I’ve seen your offer,” I continued, looking again at my two friends, “and it’s very fair. Sold!”

  An even broader grin spread across Kane’s face. I smiled then too. “These folks have lots of details to hash out and paperwork to churn up before we can all sign on the dotted line,” I said as I waggled a finger at the two lawyers and the title agent. What do you say we leave them to it and go grab a bite, my treat?”

  “Sounds good,” Roger said rising.

  “I’m real sorry you feel like you had to sell the place Barb, but I have to say, I never thought buying a business would be quite so easy.”

  Roger sputtered on a mouthful of coffee and I laughed at Kane’s naivety.

  “What? It is easy.” Kane said again as he looked back and forth between the two of us.

  “Buying it may be…but just wait till we’re back in that conference room and you feel like you’re signing your life away,” I told him. “And then there’s the day to day running of the place once it’s legally yours.”

  Recovering enough to speak, Roger choked out, “He has no idea.”

  “That’s where you come in Uncle Rog.” Kane smiled at the older man.

  “Oh, you got that right, but I’m going to teach you everything I know about managing an establishment and then I’m going to take a backseat and live off my half of the profits.”

  I chuckled at that too. For the first time in weeks, my burden felt a little lighter and my grief just a little less palpable.

  “It’s good to see you smile,” Roger said to me.

  I tipped my head toward him. “It’s been rough; I’m not going to lie. I’m really missing Lisa and…Listen; I really appreciate everything you two have done. You’ve kept things going, you’ve kept me going…”

  Roger picked up the hand I was waving about. “That’s what friends are for,” he said simply.

  “I still feel kind of bad about all of this, though,” Kane put in again.

  “Don’t, okay? What you didn’t know is Lisa and I were grooming you to manage the bar anyway. Our plans were to sell Willie’s and move on once we were sure you could impress a new owner enough to keep you on. That you’re one of the new owners is even better. I have a lot less heartburn about this deal than I have about a couple of others we’ve made in the past.”

  “Less? There is some then?” he asked me back.

  “There’s always some. Willie’s is a good bar, good crowd – local and tourist. It’s bittersweet letting go of it and even more so since it was the last…” I got chocked up and took several seconds to compose myself while the server delivered our orders.

  “Pardon my nosy curiosity,” Roger excused himself, “but what are your plans now? I mean, I know your other businesses are still caught up in probate.”

  “It’s okay. I really can’t go anywhere until all of that’s resolved and, frankly, I don’t know that I want to continue on without Lisa. I just wanted to get her bills paid and have a little money to live on while everything else is tied up in court.”

  “I appreciate all you’ve done for me Barb and all you’ve taught me,” Kane spoke up. “I hope you don’t mind me…us…picking your brain from time to time
.” He looked at his uncle for his confirming nodded.

  “Of course and, it’s actually in the agreement. I want you to succeed.”

  “So you’ll come around from time to time?”

  “Count on it.”

  “Good, good,” Roger said. “You’re welcome by any time…you’re just one of the guys…so to speak.”

  ###

  Thursday Evening, August 15th, 2013

  Steamboat Willie’s

  “Barb’s here again?” Roger asked Kane.

  The younger man nodded. “Drowning her sorrows for the third night this week.”

  “I love her to death,” Roger said shaking his head, “but she really dampens the vibe of the place. She needs something else to do.”

  “She’s still grieving…I hate to say anything…” Kane shrugged and moved toward a beckoning customer.

  Roger went the other way, toward Barb. “Hey, how ya doing?” he asked the sullen woman when he reached her corner of the bar.

  “I’m fine. Celebrating.” Barb took a sip of her drink.

  “Celebrating? What?” His tone was curious but cautious.

  “The deal was approved by the courts yesterday to sell the bars and there was already a good offer pending on one of them because I put the word a few weeks ago that it might be coming available.”

  “Barb, that’s great! I mean, I know you didn’t really want to have to give up anything at all but…”

  “No but you’re right. It’s a good thing.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Looking down, she studied the drink her hand was curved around. “Maybe now I can work on moving on.”

  “It’s early yet, honey; you’re entitled to grieve, you know?” Roger looked at her glass himself and decided to change the subject back to her small victory of the day. “How about a little dinner celebration over the agreement, you and me, on Kane?”

  Barb smiled at that but before she could offer a reply, Roger added, “We got in some of the best honey glazed turkey today I’ve ever had, some California avocado…it’ll all make some killer sandwiches.”

  “I know what you’re doing my friend but, well, it sounds good.”

  Roger held back a smile as she looked down again and pushed the half-finished drink toward him. He took the glass and, over his shoulder as he headed toward the kitchen, he said, “Coming right up.”

  “Hey pretty lady, how are you?”

  I looked to my right as a man slid onto the bar stool beside me. “Stephen, what a nice surprise! I haven’t seen you since…since…”

  “The funeral, I know and I’m sorry about that,” He finished my thought for me. “In my defense, it’s been crazy busy at work. I’ve been picking up all of the extra shifts I can handle.”

  I winced. “You better be careful or you’re going to burn out.”

  He half shrugged. “It’s all good. We’re working on a plan to expand the facilities and offer more services. It’s tough on the locals and all the tourists when anything more than a basic sprain or break or something more serious has to be referred to Denver, you know?”

  I dropped my head.

  Stephen caught on quick. “Barb, I’m sorry…I…that was insensitive.”

  Putting my hand on his arm and marshalling a little inner strength, I told him, “I’m working on moving on. I need to. It’s been pointed out to me – subtly – that drinking myself to death isn’t a good option.” As if on cue, Roger reappeared bearing two plates and tipped his head toward an empty floor table.

  “There’s my dinner and, by the looks of that sandwich, it’s enough for four. Join us?”

  “Don’t mind if I do but not to eat. I grabbed a bite before I went off shift. Talking to you has reminded me though; I have something to tell you that you might be interested in…if, that is, you don’t mind chatting in front of Roger?”

  “There’s no real way to sugarcoat this so I’m just going to get right to the point,” Stephen looked to me for confirmation. I gave him a slight nod to tell him he should continue.

  “The surgeon at Denver General, Simmons, who performed Lisa’s operation, was called before the medical review board. He lost his license to practice.”

  I nearly dropped the half sub I was holding. “What? Are you sure?”

  Stephen nodded. “Positive. It’s all over the med center. Several of the docs have referred cancer patients to him. They’re all talking.”

  “Why? Do you know?”

  “I saw something on the news,” Roger interjected, “but I didn’t put two and two together.” He shook his head slowly. “Malpractice? I think that’s what they were implying.”

  “The official party line is ‘Unsafe Acts’. I’m here to tell you it has to go a whole lot deeper than that to yank someone’s license to practice medicine.”

  “What does that have to do with me; with Lisa? They know a blood clot killed her.”

  “That’s just it Barb, what if it could have been prevented? What if Simmons didn’t do something he was supposed to do or didn’t do something…I don’t know…didn’t do something correctly? Her death was tragic. Could it have been needless too?”

  “You’re saying I should ask for some sort of investigation?”

  “That’s up to you but, if it was me and my partner, either one of us would be talking to a lawyer, wanting some answers.”

  I turned my nose up. “Not again. No more lawyers. I’m sick of dealing with people that only want the easy way to a big payday for them.”

  “Barb,” Roger said, reaching for my hand, “it might bear looking into. Look what you’ve lost in terms of medical costs alone for Lisa. If they find something and you sue the hospital for wrongful death…” He trailed off. The three of us sat there and stared at each other for a good minute.

  Chapter 8

  Monday, February 17th, 2014

  Denver, Colorado

  I tugged my blue suit out of the plastic bag the dry cleaner had covered it with. It was the only nice thing I owned that didn’t reek of cigarette smoke from the private club I’d been tending bar at to make ends meet.

  My black pumps were missing in action. It took me all of thirty seconds to do a swing around the tiny apartment I’d been living in for the past four and a half months to find them. Slipping them on as I stood in front of the mirror on the back of the only door into the place, I shook my head at myself.

  “It will have to do,” I said out loud to the barren walls. I grabbed my little satchel of papers off the wood breakfast table that had been left behind by the previous occupant, collected my keys and locked my way out with a scant backward glance into the depressing rooms I hoped I wouldn’t be occupying much longer.

  It felt like it took forever to find a parking space in downtown Denver, near the Common Pleas Court Complex. Now a few minutes late, once I was through security, I rushed to find my floor and my lawyer.

  My cell was buzzing as I stepped off the elevator. Before I could dig it out, I spied Rufus James rushing toward me as he pocketed his own phone. “Barb,” he called out, “this way.” He motioned for me to follow him.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I said as I stepped through the doorway of the small conference room he’d gone into.

  “You’re fine. The judge just took the dais and there’s a hearing ahead of ours. But what’s more pressing here is that I was right, Barb.”

  I tipped my head sideways and studied the well dressed, middle aged black man in front of me. “About?” I was confused.

  “When word leaked about this lawsuit, and might I remind you, I had nothing whatsoever to do with that,” he waggled a finger, “others started jumping on the band wagon. They want to sweep us under the rug. They don’t even want this pre-lim to take place today.”

  “Sweep us under the rug how?”

  “Settlement. They want to settle.”

  “Been there, done that Rufus. I told you that. It didn’t go well for me. Just to pay off the rest of what was owed after my last go around with the C
olorado court system and make sure I could cover your fees if things went south for me here, I sold off the home I owned in Steamboat and the last bar I still owned. All my worldly possessions that don’t fit in the crappy little apartment I’m living in right now are in storage. ‘Settlement’,” I made air quotes, “doesn’t sound very appealing.”

  I leaned back in the chair I’d sunk into and thought for a minute. Wisely, he let me think, uninterrupted.

  Finally, I asked him, “Where’s your head at with this turn?”

  He spoke carefully and laid out his thinking. “We got a copy of the Coroner’s report three months ago. No Heparin in Lisa’s system. Her charts bear that out. Simmons never ordered it. Additionally, she was made to wait while another surgery moved ahead of hers. Those events combined to create the clot that killed her.”

  He paused and turned his body toward me from his seat adjacent to me at one end of the conference table. Leaning toward me and speaking low, he told me, “We have them nailed Barb. They don’t know what all is coming down the pipe but they know there was negligence all the way around here, with this case. They want to settle with you so they can get this case gone – quietly – and they can gird themselves for the rest of the battles they’ll be facing.”

  “How does that help me? I mean, if we have them nailed, as you put it, wouldn’t we do better going to a jury trial?”

  Before he could answer, I held a hand up to stop him. “Dumb question. Forget I asked it. Now, listen to me,” I said. “It’s not about the money. It’s never been about the money…”

  Now Rufus held a hand up. “Barb, dear, it’s always about the money. You’ve lost Lisa and, in the process of dealing with your loss, you’ve lost a great deal of your life’s work and paid out for things that you never should have paid out for had Denver General not been completely negligent. “You tell me. You decide. Do we invite their team in here and try and hash out a deal or do we proceed with today’s hearing, as planned? I’m with you for the duration, either way.”