A Little Secret between Friends. C.J. Carmichael
in family law, and had volunteered for many years with the Women’s Emergency Shelter, had worked around abused women too long to let herself get away with such easy rationalizations.
Neil had crossed a line on Friday night. It was certainly possible he would do it again if the right opportunity presented itself.
She would have to make sure that opportunity never occurred. She wasn’t naive or unempowered like so many of her clients. She could handle this situation. She could handle Neil. Later she would phone a handyman service to get the kitchen door fixed so it would be easier to keep locked. She’d make better use of her alarm system, too.
Those were both good, concrete steps to take, but Sally was afraid they wouldn’t be enough. The real problem here was that Neil was Lara’s father, and as such, Sally couldn’t barricade him from her house or her life as thoroughly as she wanted.
Had she made a mistake not reporting his assault to the police?
She knew what her answer would have been for a client in a similar situation. Definitely, she should have contacted the police, if only to have a record of her complaint.
She knew it, but she still couldn’t make herself take such a drastic step. Accusing Neil would set an unavoidable sequence of events into motion. For sure Neil would deny the charges. The ensuing battle would be horrible for Lara. Friends and associates would find themselves choosing sides. Many, she feared, would refuse to believe that Neil was capable of such behavior.
The scandal would probably wreck her chances of becoming a judge, at least this time around. And who knew when the next opportunity would arise?
Sally packed Lara’s bagel and fruit into a bag, along with a yogurt and a couple of cookies. “I guess we’d better get moving. You can finish your toast in the car.”
Lara slid to the floor. Her tight jeans and T-shirt revealed the subtle new curves to her lean, athletic body.
My baby, Sally thought, sadly. Why did she have to grow up so fast?
“I have to go to Jessica’s to work on our social studies project after school,” Lara reminded her, as she shifted her backpack onto her shoulders. “Can you pick me up at six?”
“No problem.” Sally tossed her own lunch into her briefcase then slipped on her blazer and made sure her cell phone was clipped at her waist. She let Armani inside and put him in the laundry room with his toys and water. She’d hired a pet-sitting service to come into the house around noon to take him for a walk. Still, she piled newspapers in the corner of the room in case he had an accident.
Lara stopped to give him a hug on her way out the door. “I love you, Armani.”
Following their morning routine, Sally dropped her daughter off at school, then headed for her downtown office. During this part of the drive she usually turned off the radio station her daughter liked to listen to and focused on the day ahead of her.
But today she couldn’t concentrate on her morning appointments.
Colin Foster. She’d done her best not to think of him since he’d left her house on Saturday morning, about half an hour before Lara was scheduled to come home. She didn’t want to remember how unexpectedly kind and gentle he’d been with her.
Oh, she’d seen him that way with Beth, especially in the later stages of the cancer. But Sally had never expected to experience such treatment herself.
Or to enjoy it so much.
Poor Colin must have had very little sleep on Friday night. He’d checked on her several times, and once she’d woken to see him sprawled out in the chair in her room. Their glances had connected across the quiet bedroom, then she’d pretended to fall back asleep again.
In the morning he’d made her breakfast. Boiled eggs and coffee and lightly browned toast. They’d shared the weekend paper, reading out snippets of interesting facts to each other.
He’d fussed over her a little, but not too much. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken care of her that way. Probably her Mom when Sally had the chicken pox in grade six.
Don’t be so nice to me, she’d longed to say to him. Colin Foster was easy to handle when he was acting arrogant and overconfident. This other side of him put her off balance.
Determinedly, Sally blocked the mental image of Colin at her breakfast table from her mind. Her life was complicated enough without her searching for more things to worry about.
With a sigh, she turned the radio back on, and was accosted by a mechanical beat and repetitive rap lyrics. Heavens, why did Lara like this stuff?
SALLY’S FIRST APPOINTMENT of the day was with Pamela Moore, a woman in her early thirties who was having problems with her ex-husband, Rick. According to the terms of their divorce settlement, Rick was supposed to pay just over eight hundred dollars a month in child support. He hadn’t done so for the past four months.
As she sipped her first coffee of the day, Sally thumbed through the Moore’s thick file. Ninety-nine percent of her clients were just that—people she was hired to represent. But Pam was different.
She’d first become aware of Pam’s difficult situation when she’d been volunteering her legal services at the Women’s Emergency Shelter. Pam had shown up with bruises distorting her facial features, but it didn’t take long for the two women to realize they knew each other.
They’d both grown up in Medicine Hat, a medium-size city about three hours southeast of Calgary. Pam’s family had been regulars at Sally’s parents’ café. On a couple of occasions, Sally had babysat for Pam and her two younger brothers.
So Pam wasn’t just a client, and while Sally fought hard for all her clients, for Pam she pulled out all the stops. She wanted the younger woman and her two children to have a future far better than what they’d experienced so far.
But Pam’s ex-husband seemed equally determined not to let that happen. He’d battled Pam on every step of her attempt to leave him and regain control of her life. Most inexcusable to Sally, throughout the entire struggle, he’d shown little interest in their children. And even less interest in contributing toward their financial support.
Rick’s main goal was winning Pam back. Twice he’d convinced her to try a reconciliation. On both occasions, Pam had ended up at the shelter with a few more bruises and an even more battered self-esteem.
Sally asked her why she kept giving him more chances.
“He’s the father of my children. And you don’t know the pressure he’s under. He runs his own business. He has to work so hard.”
Sometimes Sally was tempted to say, “I’m a businesswoman, too. I’m under a lot of pressure. But it would never occur to me to beat someone up because of it.” Of course, she never actually said this. Pam was smart enough to understand it wasn’t so much Sally, as herself, that she was trying to convince.
Eventually a late-night visit to Emergency to treat her broken arm had convinced Pamela to leave Rick for good. The divorce had been ugly. Despite a restraining order against him, Rick still found ways to inject misery into Pamela’s life.
Sally had just reviewed the last of the documentation in the file, when Evelyn at the front desk gave her a buzz.
“Pamela Moore to see you, Ms. Stowe.”
“Thanks. Tell her I’ll be right there.”
Though one of the younger partners at the firm, Sally had a coveted outer office with a mountain view. Early in her career she’d caught the attention of senior partner Gerald Thornton. “I like the way you think,” he’d told her. “More than that, I like the way you never give up.”
Gerald’s opinions carried a lot of weight, not only in the firm, but also in the legal community at large. It was through his connections that she’d wound up president of the Law Society of Alberta, a position that had enabled her to meet many of the province’s most influential