43 comments/ 53321 views/ 11 favorites Miz Sara Finds an Unlikely Ally By: FrancisMacomber Over the years, I've come to believe that one key to success in life is to find resources you like and can count on. You know, like a good dentist or auto mechanic or hair dresser. I count banking in the same category. Anyway, I've been going to the same branch of the same bank for years now. I guess I could do most of my banking on line, but frankly, I like to put a face to my dealings, especially when it comes to money. And one of my favorite faces to see is Martin Peterson, who's been the manager of my local branch for the last couple of years. He's been extremely helpful whenever I've had to deal with him, he's very polite and respectful, and he always has a big smile on his face. This hot midsummer day, however, seemed to be an exception. Martin was as helpful and efficient as ever, but there was no smile on his face; instead, he seemed tense and somewhat distracted. Finally, I couldn't take it any more and asked him, "Martin, are you okay?" My comment seemed to startle him, and he thought about it for a minute before speaking. "Miz Sara, could I possibly impose on you for a few minutes?" When I nodded encouragingly, he invited me into his small office and closed the door so we could have some privacy. Once we were seated, Martin began. "Miz Sara, you have a great reputation in family law, so I'm hoping you can help me. I have a friend," he said, "who's having troubles with his wife. He thinks she's running around on him, but he doesn't have any proof. He's hoping to keep his marriage together for the sake of their son, but he wants to protect himself and his boy in case things take a sudden turn for the worse. What advice would you have for him, Ms. Sara?" Well, I could guess who his "friend" was, and I knew I should head this whole thing off at the pass. People are always asking attorneys for free legal advice. But Martin had always been so courteous and nice to me that I just didn't feel right about turning him down. "Martin," I told him, "this doesn't sound like a situation that can be handled in a few words or a few minutes. You tell your 'friend' he needs to call my office and make an appointment to come see me. Do you understand?" He looked at me sheepishly, realizing I had seen through his feeble attempt at obfuscation. "Thank you, Miz Sara. I'd really appreciate any help you can give me." After I returned to my home, which is also my law office, I told Cindy about my odd encounter with Martin. She'd met him when she ran errands for me to the bank, and had always liked him as much as I do. I guess I need to tell you about Cindy. I'd hired Cindy McCarty straight out of Agnes Scott College about three years ago. I've made it my practice to recruit my assistants from my alma mater; it's one way I could give back to the school for all it had done for me. Cindy was the best assistant I'd ever had -- and also the worst. She was smart as a whip and an absolute whiz with computers. Prowling on the web, she could find out information like nobody I'd ever seen before. Not only that, but she had a streak of old fashioned detective in her, and on a couple of occasions her sleuthing had turned up information that proved vital to cases I was handling. Finally, she was a plucky little thing, ready to take on any challenge, and I couldn't help but admire that quality. The downside of Cindy was that even though she was several years out of college, she continued to live as though she were still an undergraduate. She was always up for a party, and drinking and dancing on week nights were a common occurrence. I heard a cute song a long time ago called "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun." Well, that was Cindy in a nutshell. And there was one other thing that bothered me: the way Cindy dressed. I know I'm old fashioned, but her clothes looked to me like something a tart would put on. Skirts too short, jeans too tight, blouses showing too much cleavage -- all those were a regular part of Cindy's wardrobe. Sometimes I just wanted to shake her and say, "It's time to grow up!" But every time I got exasperated enough to say something to her, Cindy would do something really helpful or say something truly insightful, and I'd be so appreciative I just had to stifle my criticism. And in all fairness, I'd been seeing signs of change lately. Maybe she was finally beginning to grow up a little -- we'd just have to see. Anyway, we both wondered whether or not we would hear any more from Martin about his "friend's" problem. A lot of times people stop and rethink their situation before they consult an attorney. It's a serious step, and they think better of taking it. But sure enough, a few days later he called to make an appointment. When I told Cindy, she thought his situation must be serious. I tended to agree with her. Martin was scheduled to come in at 9:00 that morning, but he was late, and when 9:30 rolled around, I decided that he must have had second thoughts. However, before I could move on to other matters, he came walking through the door, accompanied by his four-year-old son Justin. Both Cindy and I had met Justin before at his dad's office, but we were surprised to see him today. "Miz Sara," Martin said apologetically, "I'm so sorry to be late, and I'm sorry to have brought Justin with me. But the daycare center where he goes in the summer had a breakdown with their air conditioner. There was no place else for him to go and I didn't know what else to do." Before I could respond, Cindy piped up, "I'll be glad to take care of him while you two meet." Turning to the boy, who was shyly looking at the carpet, she held out her hand and led him to her office. "Come on, Justin, I know some neat websites with games you can play." I was surprised; Cindy had never shown any particular affinity for children before. But after only a few minutes with her, I could tell that the little boy was happily engaged in his game, and Cindy was cheering him on. Seeing the boy was in good hands, I turned to Martin and led him into my office. Once he was settled on my settee with a glass of sweet iced tea in his hand, I encouraged him to tell me what was going on with his marriage. "My wife Jodie," he began, "is a nurse at Grady Memorial Hospital. We met in college and got married right after graduation. That was ten years ago. The first few years our marriage was wonderful; we couldn't have been happier together. And we were overjoyed when Justin was born." His face darkened. "But in the last few years, Jodie has grown increasingly distant, especially in the last year. She's clearly dissatisfied with me and our marriage. She's increasingly cross and irritable; everything I do seems to hit her the wrong way." He flushed a little and added, "And our love life has shrunk away to nothing. I've tried everything I can think of to improve things, but nothing seems to help." "I'm so sorry, Martin," I said. "I really hate to hear things are so difficult for you. But my question is: what do you want to do about it? Are you here today for help with a divorce?" "No, Miz Sara" he replied instantly, "I want to keep our family together if there's any way. My parents got a divorce when I was still a kid and it hit me very hard. If there's any way to spare Justin from having to go through that, I just have to try." "Then how can I help?" I asked. "Miz Sara, in the last couple of months, Jodie's been acting very suspiciously. She works the evening shift at the hospital, but she doesn't come home until long after her shift is over. Then, on the nights she's off work, she goes out in the evening without explanation. She's definitely acting like she's seeing someone behind my back." "The truth is, Miz Sara, I feel like she's taking advantage of me. She knows how I feel about divorce, and that frees her to do anything she wants because she knows I want to protect Justin." He paused and hung his head. "This is really tearing me apart. I get so angry with her I want to scream, but then I remember Justin and I just bite my tongue." He stopped to collect himself. "But lately," he continued, "I get the feeling that she's getting ready to leave on her own. Little things she's said, the way she's acting -- everything tells me this is all coming to a head soon. So what I need from you is advice on how to protect myself -- and Justin, for that matter -- if she decides to split." "If she does decide to file for divorce," I told Martin, "there's nothing you can do to stop her. Furthermore, in the State of Georgia, she will be entitled to half the marital estate. Only under unusual circumstances would that not happen." Martin looked glum. "Having said that," I went on, "there are some things that you can and ought to do to protect yourself financially. While Jodie may be entitled to half the marital property, you should take steps now to ensure she doesn't try to get more than her fair share." "Start with your savings account and any investments you jointly hold. You're entirely within your rights, for example, to divide your savings account in two and put your half into a new account in your name only. The same with any investments. Just be sure that everything is divided equally; you want to avoid even the appearance of impropriety." "The second thing is to inventory all your credit cards, checking accounts and any other finances where both of you are liable for any expenditures. You want to make sure she hasn't made any unusual or inappropriate purchases or taken out any cash advances." "Also, sometimes if you've had a credit card for a long time, the company may have increased your credit limit beyond what you really need. It wouldn't hurt to contact them and ask them to reduce your limit, just to reduce your exposure in case she decides to make some inappropriate purchases." "It may be premature to cancel any joint accounts, but you need to make a list of all of them and be ready to cancel them immediately if required. And there's nothing to stop you from establishing new credit in your own name so you won't be inconvenienced if you have to close out the joint accounts." "Okay, Miz Sara, that all makes good sense, and I can get started on it right away. But what about Justin? Is there anything I can do to protect him? I don't mean that Jodie would ever harm him, but if she leaves me, I don't want to lose him," he said with a fearful look on his face. "In a divorce with children that young," I told him gently, "it's very rare for the father to get sole custody. Your best hope will be to get joint custody and work out an even split of time with Justin." I could tell how heavily our conversation was weighing on Martin. He was being forced to contemplate the very fate he dreaded the most for his son. But the mood lightened a little as we heard Justin's laughter coming from Cindy's office. "Looks like they're having a great time together," I told Martin. My comment was proven correct when we went out into the lobby and Martin tried to corral his son. "I want to stay and play with Cindy," the boy protested. Cindy knelt down and hugged him. "You can come back and play with me anytime, Justin," she reassured him. After they had gone, she smiled and said, "Justin is so sweet. He really is a good boy." Then her expression turned more serious, and she asked, "So what's going on with Martin?" I gave her a quick summary of his marital concerns, and she frowned. "Martin seems like the nicest guy, and he's absolutely devoted to his son. You'd think he'd make a great husband. I just can't imagine why his wife would treat him so badly." "I really like Martin too, dear, and I have no idea what's going on with Jodie," I agreed. "Tell you what, if you get some spare time, take a look and see if you can find any information on her. From everything Martin said, it wouldn't surprise me if he becomes a client in the near future, and it wouldn't hurt us to get a little advance information, just in case." "I'll get right on it, Miz Sara," she vowed. Later that same day, I took a call from a man who introduced himself as Phillip Wasserman. He wanted to make an appointment to discuss possible divorce proceedings against his wife. I told him I was sorry to hear it, but that I would be glad to meet with him. He was anxious to get started, so we set up an appointment for the following day. When Mr. Wasserman came in for his appointment, I ushered him back to my office. He was a nice looking man, probably about 40 years old. He had a full head of hair and looked to be in good physical shape. I would have guessed him to be a former college athlete, and he later mentioned that he'd played on the Georgia baseball team. He also told me that UGA was where he'd met his wife Valerie. After we'd gotten through the pleasantries, I thought it was time to get down to business. "So why don't you tell me about the situation that has led you to consider divorce proceedings, Mr. Wasserman?" "Miz Cannon, this is a bit personal, and some of it is a little embarrassing, so I'd like to keep everything confidential, if you don't mind," he said, looking around a bit nervously. "Of course, Mr. Wasserman," I said. I got up from behind my desk, walked over to the French doors of my office and closed them. Cindy knew that meant that we weren't to be disturbed. When I returned to my chair, I beckoned him to proceed with his story. "Miz Cannon . . ." I interrupted him. "Most folks call me Miz Sara. If we're going to be working together, it'll make things much easier," I told him. He looked a bit more at ease. "Thank you, Miz Sara, and I'm Phil, please." "So tell me what has happened between you and your wife, Phil, to cause you to consider a divorce." The tension returned to his face immediately. "She cheated on me, Miz Sara. She cheated with another man!" I tried to soothe him. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Phil. How did you come to find this out?" "I didn't have to find it out," he replied somewhat sharply, "I was there when it happened." "Oh dear," I said, "that must have been very difficult for you. Can you tell me the circumstances?" He seemed to hesitate at that, and I could tell he was uncomfortable. "Phil," I said, "I've been in this business for a long time. There's not a lot that I haven't already heard, and even less that would shock me, so just go ahead and don't be shy. This is just between the two of us." He seemed to relax a little then. "Miz Sara," he began, "Valerie and I got married right after we graduated from college. So we've been married now almost 20 years." He looked at me almost plaintively. "In 20 years, things tend to cool down between a husband and wife, you know what I mean? Marital relations get a little routine, predictable." Again he glanced at me, then looked down as he continued his story. "Anyway, I wanted to try to spice things up a little, try something new and different. I thought it might get our juices flowing, if you know what I mean." I just nodded. I thought I knew where he was going with this. He cleared his throat and then went on. "So Valerie and I started talking about maybe finding another couple and, um, socializing with them. You know, we all go out to a club, have a few drinks, dance with each other's wife and then go someplace to continue the party." "How did Valerie respond to this idea?" I asked. "Well, at first she was pretty opposed to it, to be honest," he replied. "But I kept bringing it up, and after a while I guess I kind of wore her down. She told me if I really wanted to try it, she would go along with it." "We both agreed that we didn't want to do anything with anyone we already knew -- that could have complications. So we started looking on Craigslist to see if there were any couples who sounded nice and were interested in the same sort of thing." "Well, to make a long story short, we found one and, after talking with them on the phone, we met them at a nightclub here in Atlanta. Their names were Marshall and Nancy. They were a nice-looking couple, not model material, you understand, but nice and pleasant. He was several inches shorter than me, and she was shorter than Valerie and a little heavier, but not overly so. We had a few drinks and danced for a while. They were easy to talk to, and we had a lot in common. They too were interested in spicing up their marriage." "I pulled Valerie aside and asked if she was OK with going ahead with evening as we'd discussed. She told me if I wanted to do it, she'd go along. So we went back to the other couple and I suggested we carry on the party at the room I'd booked in the Omni. They were game, so we headed out." "When we got to the room, we had a couple more drinks. Then I found a soft rock station on the television, and we turned the lights out and began to dance again with each other's wife. Nancy sort of snuggled in with me, and we began to get pretty friendly, if you know what I mean." "Pretty soon, we were on one of the beds and the clothes started to come off." Phil glanced up at me to see how I was taking all this. I just nodded for him to go on; this wasn't the first time I'd heard a client recount an episode of swinging. "Well, we were getting into it pretty heavy by then," Phil went on, "and then I heard a gasp from the other bed. I glanced over to make sure Valerie was OK, and saw Marshall leaning over her." Phil swallowed hard and then looked at me almost desperately. "Miz Sara, I'm a pretty good sized guy, all over, if you know what I mean. But even though Marshall was shorter than me, he was much bigger down there where it counts. I've never seen a man that big before, even in the locker room back at Georgia." "Anyway, for the next hour I had to listen as he drove my wife crazy. Usually, she's pretty quiet when we're in bed together. But that night she was gasping and moaning and panting like I'd never heard before. And every time I thought they were finished, he'd start up again, and so would she. Valerie's never been that way with me." "Well, I wasn't much use to Nancy. I just lay there listening to the two of them going at it, and I just kept getting more and more angry. When they were finally done, I made Valerie get up and get dressed, and then we left immediately." "Since then, I've been so angry with her that I can hardly speak to her. All I can think about is the two of them going at it over and over again. How could she treat me that way? How could she respond to him in ways she's never done with me? Finally, I decided that I just couldn't live with her any more, and that's when I decided to come see you." As he'd been talking, I'd watched his face grow redder and his respiration increase. I hoped that he didn't have a problem with high blood pressure, because I figured his readings would have gone off the chart as he sat talking in my office. I thought maybe I could defuse the situation if I could get him to see what happened from another perspective. "Phil," I asked, "you told me that you undertook this liaison with the intent of adding a little spice to your love life, isn't that right?" "Yes," he agreed sullenly. "And didn't you want to improve things for both of you, for Valerie as well as for yourself?" I continued. "Well, sure," he said, "but . . ." I interrupted him: "And isn't that what happened, at least for Valerie?" "Well, yes, but I never expected her to act that way!" "So what you're saying," I pressed on, "is that you wanted her to have a good time, but not as good as you." "No, that's not what I meant at all," he responded violently. "I just didn't want her turning into some kind of sex slave for Mr. Big!" "Phil," I told him calmly, "I'm not going to take your case." That seemed to take the wind out of him. He slumped in his chair and looked at me in surprise. Miz Sara Finds an Unlikely Ally Before he could respond, I went on. "I will, however, make a deal with you. I want you to go home and think about what's happened for the next two weeks. I want you to think about everything you asked Valerie to do, and ask yourself if what happened wasn't pretty much what you had originally wanted. I'd also like you to think about the situation if it had been reversed. How would you have felt if you had had a wonderful time and Valerie didn't. And finally, I want you to remember how this whole thing started in the first place." "If, at the end of two weeks, you still want to end your marriage to Valerie, I'll reluctantly help you do that. But I want you to think it over very carefully and see if that's really what you want to happen." With that, I stood up to let him know that our consultation was ended. He got up somewhat bemusedly, and I walked him out of my office and to the front door. I don't think he'd expected an attorney to refuse to take his case. I shook his hand and said, "Think carefully about what you really want, and call me in two weeks." He mumbled his response and headed out to his car. As I watched him go, I thought to myself, "Why are some men so insecure, especially so many big ones?" Cindy popped her head out of her office. "What was that all about, Ms. Sara?" "Honey," I said with a smile, "I'm hoping you wouldn't understand if I told you." As far as Martin Peterson's situation was concerned, over the next week everything remained unchanged. Despite her best efforts, Cindy was unable to find anything of significance about Jodie Peterson. Mrs. Peterson had moved to Atlanta from South Carolina and gotten her Bachelor of Science in Nursing from Emory's Woodruff School of Nursing. She held a nurses license from the Georgia Board of Nursing and was currently employed at Grady Memorial Hospital. Beyond those basics, there was little additional information available. Cindy was frustrated. She took to delivering our banking business by Martin's branch in order to check up on him. I think she was also hoping to see Justin again; she'd taken quite a shine to the youngster and Martin assured me the feeling was mutual. Everything continued as normal until one afternoon when Martin burst in with a wild look on his face. "He's gone! Jodie has left and she's taken Justin with her!" Cindy rushed out of her office, and together we helped him onto my settee. "What happened, Martin?" Cindy burst out. "What happened to Justin?" She looked almost as shaken as he did. "I was working at the bank this morning when a man came up to me and handed me these papers." As he spoke, Martin handed over an envelope with his name printed on it. "When I opened it, I saw it was a divorce petition from Jodie," he went on. "The minute I saw that, I thought about Justin, so I got in my car and drove straight over to the daycare center to get him. When I got there, they told me that Jodie had picked him up that morning." He paused to catch his breath and Cindy handed him a glass of sweet ice tea. He took a sip and continued. "We hadn't talked about any change of plans that morning, so I tried to call Cindy on her cellphone, but it just went to voicemail. Then I tried to call her at the hospital, but they told me she'd quit her job! By then I was frantic, and I drove home to see if they might be there. When I got there, there was no one home. Then I noticed that all Jodie's things were gone too: her clothes, cosmetics, everything! Justin's clothes and some of his toys were also missing. I couldn't think of anything else to do, so I drove over here." "Please help me, Miz Sara, I'm scared to death for Justin and I don't know what to do!" The poor man was almost beside himself; Cindy stroked his arm and tried to get him to calm down. I picked up the divorce petition to see if it might shed any light on the subject. "Oh, dear," I said when I got to the end of the petition. "What is it?" both Martin and Cindy exclaimed. "Your wife's divorce is being handled by an old opponent of mine, Rosa Brindisi," I said quietly. Cindy gasped; she remembered our last encounter with Miz Rosa. Rosa Brindisi is another attorney practicing family law in Atlanta. She has a colorful reputation: the media like to call her the "Atomic Italian" because they say "nothing is left standing when she hits the scene." She and I had crossed swords on several occasions; some people said we were rivals. I don't like to think in those terms because that's not the way the law works, but I also have to admit that I don't particularly care for Rosa's "take no prisoners" approach. The minute I saw her name on Martin's papers, I knew we were in for a tussle. "All right, Martin, it's time for us to get busy. You and Cindy need to start contacting your credit card companies and canceling any cards held in both your name and Jodie's. You need to take all the steps we discussed when you first came to see me." "While you're doing that," I went on, "I'm going to contact Rosa Brindisi and see if I can't meet with her. I need to find out where we stand as quickly as possible." "But what about Justin?" Martin was quick to ask. "I'm pretty sure you don't need to worry about him right now," I soothed. "It's pretty clear that what happened today was carefully planned. That means that Justin will be well taken care of for the time being. I just need to get together with Rosa to see when we can get you reunited with him." It was clear that that wasn't what Martin wanted to hear, but I hoped my certainty would calm him. I just hoped my certainty was warranted. When I called Rosa's office, she had already left for the day; however, her secretary was able to make an appointment for me the next morning. The young lady told me, "Miz Rosa said if you were to call to tell you she's looking forward to seeing you again." "I don't like the sound of that," I thought to myself. When I went to tell Martin and Cindy the news about Miz Rosa, I found them busy making phone calls and working on the web. In the old days, disentangling oneself from financial obligations could involve days of driving all over town. Today with a computer and a telephone they were able to get everything under control in an hour or two. By then it was well past working hours, so I phoned out for some food and invited them to dine with me. I much prefer to cook a proper meal, but there was no time for such niceties that evening. As we ate, we continued to talk about the events of the day. "I'm not surprised by Jodie filing for divorce," Martin reflected, "it's been coming on for a long time. But why would she move out like that? Why would she quit her job, and why would she take Justin?" "I don't like to think the worst of people's motives, Martin," I answered, "but in this case I have a feeling she's trying to set you up for a very expensive financial settlement. Because she's left her job, she's now unemployed, which probably means she's angling for some hefty alimony. Moving out and taking Justin with her may be a way to get child support. Plus, she knows how much you love Justin; she knows that taking him will put pressure on you to accept whatever settlement she plans to propose." "We don't know any of that," I went on, "but when Rosa Brindisi is involved, I assume that nothing takes place by chance." Martin's face darkened as he contemplated just how manipulative his wife had become. But Cindy had another question: "It sounds like Rosa Brindisi was just waiting for your call. How could she know that you'd be defending Martin," she asked. "I don't rightly know," I admitted. "Martin, is there any way she could have found out from you?" He blushed. "I'll bet that's it, Miz Sara. After that day Justin and I came to see you, Justin was telling Jodie about Cindy and how they'd been playing together. Jodie demanded to know who Cindy was, and the whole thing came out." I shook my head ruefully. "If Jodie told Rosa you'd been in touch with me, that's like pouring gasoline on a fire. I'll bet Rosa has been itching for a chance to lock horns with me again." "Well," I concluded, "there's nothing for it but to wait until tomorrow to see what kind of a fight we have on our hands." On that gloomy note, our little party broke up; Cindy headed off to her apartment and Martin returned to his empty house. The following day, I headed up to Rosa's law office for my appointment. Rosa has a suite of offices in a glass and steel high-rise in Buckhead. I guess some people would be impressed by that; I wasn't one of them. When I arrived, a nice young lady ushered me into Rosa's office right away. Obviously, the Italian attorney was eager to see me. As she came out from behind her over-sized desk to greet me, I saw that she was wearing another of her signature red dresses. She was a hefty woman; I couldn't understand why she'd dress in a way that would draw comparisons with an over-ripe tomato. I guess there's no accounting for taste. "Hello, Miz Sara," she said in an unctuous tone of voice, "I'm so glad to see you again so soon after our last encounter." I was sure that Rosa was telling the truth -- because she wanted to have another go at me -- but I could care less about such nonsense. All I knew was that my client was desperately worried about his son, and that was the only thing that mattered to me. "Miz Rosa, I'll get right to the point. Your client, Jodie Peterson, has taken their son and disappeared immediately after having Martin served. Martin is understandably anxious about the welfare of his boy and wants to be reunited with him right away. Can you help me?" She gave me an oily smile. "Of course I can understand his concern. Let me reassure you that the boy is perfectly fine and in his mother's care. Martin need have no worries on that account." "I assume that means you know where they are," I responded. "I haven't said that," she replied quickly, "and even if I did, my client has asked me not to reveal that information to her husband. She wants to have no further contact with him until this whole matter is resolved." "So she intends to hold her son hostage until Martin agrees to whatever settlement she's cooked up for him?" I asked. "Miz Sara, I'm surprised at you," Rosa responded smoothly. "You know perfectly well a mother can't hold her own child hostage. She's simply looking out for his interests the best way she knows how." "Miz Rosa, Martin has reason to believe that his estranged wife has been having an affair. If she has moved in with her lover, that would not be a fit environment for a four-year old boy," I pressed. Rosa looked at me blandly. "I know nothing about any such affair, but it certainly wouldn't surprise me if there were someone else involved. That's quite common in cases like these, as you know. But as you also know, the existence of such a relationship is not a matter of consideration in divorce in this state. However, if it will put Martin's mind at ease, I can guarantee you that she has not shacked up with a lover." I wondered how she could be so sure. It sounded to me like she knew exactly where Jodie Peterson was hiding out. Now that she had displayed her beneficent side, Rosa's demeanor changed and she proceeded to reveal her real purpose for wanting to meet with me. "Now let's get down to the issues. My client and I have pulled together what we feel is a fair property settlement as well as a proposal for alimony and, of course, child support. I'd ask you to take it back to your client and review it carefully with him. Please let him know that the sooner we reach a settlement, the sooner he and his son can be reunited." With that, she pushed an envelope across her desk to me. Then she stood and said, "I don't think there's much more we can do at this time, Miz Sara, so if you'll excuse me I have other clients to assist." "So she won't even let him see his own son?" I asked. "He's in a lot of pain, Rosa." She looked at me without blinking and said, "Divorce is always a painful business." Then she turned away, and I knew there was nothing left to do but leave. Martin came to my office that afternoon, and I had to pass on what Rosa had told me and show him the property settlement Jodie was proposing. It was a typical Rosa Brindisi "take-no-prisoners" offer: he would have to pay Jodie a sizable amount of alimony since she was now unemployed, he would pay heavy child support since she would have primary custody, and she would get the house in lieu of taking any of his retirement account. Finally, to add insult to injury, he would be responsible for all court costs and Jodie's attorney's fees. It was a bitter pill to swallow for him. "Miz Rosa, this isn't fair," Martin insisted. "I never wanted a divorce in the first place, and now she wants to make me pay through the nose so she can go off and be with some mystery man we don't even know. Plus she wants me to pay alimony even though she's perfectly capable of finding a job. " "We both know that, but their strategy is to withhold Justin from you until you cave in," I observed. "Rosa Brindisi plays a very hard brand of ball. Her plan is to wait us out and keep the pressure on, using your son as the lever." I looked carefully at Martin. "If we could find Justin and get him back somehow, we'd be back to a level playing field. Do you have any idea where she might be? Is there any friend or family she might be staying with? Is there any place in this area that Jodie liked to visit? Anything you can tell us might provide a clue." Martin had no ideas, but he committed himself to trying to find Justin. Over the next couple of weeks, our offices became a war room. During the day, Cindy and I devoted ourselves to my other clients. But after the bank branch where he worked closed, Martin began coming to our place every afternoon. We would review the current situation, then Cindy and Martin would go searching online for any clue that might lead us to the place where Jodie was hiding Justin. And, of course, I spent quite a bit of time wrangling with Rosa about the terms of the settlement. But there was no budging her: she had the upper hand and she knew that time was on her side. It was a frustrating period and it wore on all of us. The only relief I had was a call from Phil Wasserman. "Miz Sara, I'm calling to tell you I've given up all thought about divorcing Valerie. I thought hard about what you said and how everything happened. I finally realized that all Valerie had done was exactly what I'd asked her to do. She wasn't being unfaithful to me; in fact, I'd have to say she was actually showing how devoted to me she is by going along with my stupid plan." "Anyway," he concluded, "I'm so glad I had that talk with you." "I'm glad too, Phil," I responded, "and I hope this will be the start of a happier relationship between you and your wife." "Well how about that?" I thought after he'd hung up. "Maybe I am doing a little good in this world. Now if I can just help Martin." Our big break came the next afternoon when Martin came in excitedly with the news that he'd talked with Justin. He was so happy just to have heard his son's voice that it was obvious to Cindy and me how badly Martin missed his boy. "Jodie called me and then she put Justin on," Martin told us. "Do you think this means she's willing to be more reasonable?" I thought about it, then shook my head. "It would be nice to think so, but I doubt it," I had to tell him. "I've been expecting something like this. She's trying to increase your desire to see Justin to up the pressure on you. In effect, she's hoping that a little taste will whet your appetite for more, and you'll give up the fight." My response hit Martin hard; all the enthusiasm and hope seemed to drain visibly from his body. Cindy came to the rescue. "Tell us what you talked about with Justin," she asked. "Did he say anything that might help us figure out where he is?" "I'm afraid he wasn't much help," Martin said. "He told me he missed me, and when I asked him what he'd been doing, he said he'd been playing video games. I asked him if he got to play outside any, and he told me he'd been to a little park in their neighborhood. Then he told me he and his Mom had walked over to see the graffiti tunnel, whatever that is. About that time, Jodie took the phone back." "Hmm, being near a park isn't very helpful. There must be thousands of parks in the greater Atlanta area," I mused. "And I haven't got a clue what a 'graffiti tunnel' is." But Cindy was getting excited. "I wonder," she said, "I just wonder." She went into her office and spent several long minutes on the computer. Just when we were ready to forget about her and move on to other topics, she gave a squeal and shouted, "This could be it!" When she came back out, we pressed her to tell us what she'd found. "Are you familiar with Cabbagetown?" she asked us. I was, of course, but Martin wasn't, so I gave him a quick rundown. "Cabbagetown is a section of southeast Atlanta filled with charming homes that were once owned by employees of the old cotton mill there. The area went downhill when the mill was closed back in the 1970s, but in recent years new owners moved into the area and began to restore many of the homes to their former charm. Even the old cotton mill was converted into condos. Today the area is considered a historic district and is listed on the U.S. National Register of Historic Places," I explained. Then I turned to Cindy. "But why is Cabbagetown important?" "Well," Cindy went on, "the district is bounded on the north side by railroad tracks. There's a tunnel that runs under the tracks connecting Cabbagetown with the area above it. Anyway, that tunnel is famous because the inside is completely covered with graffiti. I've seen if featured in a number of music videos. Anyway, I wonder if that could be the 'graffiti tunnel' that Justin mentioned!" If we were amazed at Cindy's guesswork on the graffiti tunnel, we were truly impressed by her next intuitive leap. "Anyway, I've just been checking through the Atlanta tax assessor's records to see if by any chance Rosa Brindisi owned any property in the area. Sure enough, she bought a home on Tye Street about eight years ago. And guess what: Cabbagetown Park backs up to Tye Street!" We were all terribly excited -- we hoped that Cindy might have solved the mystery of where Martin's wife and son were hiding. Cindy and Martin were jumping up and down, and Martin was so grateful that he hugged Cindy and kissed her on the cheek, much to her embarrassment. Cindy was all for going over to Cottontown that very night to test her hypothesis, but I was quick to slow down her parade. "Cindy, Cabbagetown may have come a long way, but it's still a transitional neighborhood. It wasn't just graffiti artists who did all that spray painting in the tunnel," I cautioned, "a lot of it is gang tags. There's no way you need to be venturing into that neighborhood alone after dark." Martin spoke up immediately, "I'll go with her, Miz Sara. We'll be fine together." I was still reluctant, but I knew how anxious they both were to find Justin, and I was afraid one of them might venture over there on their own. If they went together, Martin could afford Cindy some protection, and Cindy might be able to keep Martin from doing something rash. So against my better judgment, I agreed to their expedition, but I still wanted to establish some ground rules. "If you go, it is absolutely imperative that you do nothing but check out the house and yard to try to determine if Justin is really there. If you find him, you absolutely must not make any effort to take him with you. You could be arrested for breaking and entering if you go into that house, and you might even be charged with kidnapping if you try to take Justin," I warned them. Miz Sara Finds an Unlikely Ally I made them both promise me that they would do nothing but observe and try to determine if Jodie and Justin were indeed living in the house Rosa Brindisi owned. "You can take your camera and get photos, Cindy," I cautioned them, "but nothing more." After that there was no stopping them, and soon they were driving off for southeast Atlanta. I was left to hold down the fort and dither until their return. The later it got the more anxious I became, but finally I was rewarded by the beam of car headlights shining through the leaded glass beside the front door of my office. As the two of them came in the door, I could tell immediately that they were subdued, and that made me uneasy. "What in the world happened?" I demanded. "What took you so long?" Martin sat silently; it was Cindy who answered for them. "When we got over to Cabbagetown, we decided to park on Estoria Street and walk through the park so we wouldn't be spotted. We went strolling like a pair of lovers, but, fortunately, there wasn't anyone around." She smiled at Martin, trying to lighten his gloom with a little levity, but he was clearly not in a cheerful mood. "We crossed the park and then walked up to the backyard of the house Miz Rosa owns. Martin spotted the big three-wheeled tricycle he'd bought Justin for his birthday. Then we saw Jodie's car in the driveway, so we were almost certain we were right. Martin wanted to go up and try to peek in the windows, but I thought it would be wiser to walk around the place first, just to make sure it was safe." "When we got around front, we saw there was another car parked there, one Martin didn't recognize. That made us suspect Jodie might have a visitor, so we felt like we'd have to be extra careful. Anyway, we looped around behind the house and snuck up to the back. Sure enough, the first window we looked in was Justin's room; he was sound asleep in bed." She paused at that point, and looked at Martin before continuing. Somehow I knew I wouldn't like what she had to say next. "Just then," Cindy continued, "we heard a noise coming from one of the other windows, so we edged over there to see what was going on." She paused again and Martin's head sunk a little lower. "It was Jodie, Miz Sara, and she was in bed with another man. They were . . . being intimate. Anyway, I took my camera and began videoing everything. It was pretty dark -- there wasn't much light in the room -- but you could clearly tell it was Jodie. Neither of us had ever seen the other fellow before." With that, Cindy handed me her camera so I could see what they had witnessed. There on the small screen I could clearly see Jody lying partially on top of a man. Both of them were nude, and she was performing fellatio on him. As he began to groan, Jodie slid forward until she was astride his erection. Then she positioned his penis with her hand and began to grind down onto him. The pace of their exertions accelerated, accompanied by gasps, moans and curses from the two of them, until both of them appeared to reach simultaneous climaxes, and they collapsed on the bed. Then, as I watched, Jodie pulled her lover upright into an embrace. "Oh my heavens!" I gasped at what I was seeing. "I'm sorry, Miz Sara," Cindy offered. "I should have warned you that the video was pretty x-rated." "That's all right, Cindy," I said, "We've both seen such things before." Then I turned to Martin. I knew now why he was so subdued. It's one thing to believe that your wife may be cheating on you; it's quite another to witness her infidelity in the flesh. He was delighted and relieved to have found his son, and sick at heart to have found his wife in the arms of her lover. Ever pragmatic, Cindy wanted to know, "What happens next, Miz Sara?" "What you've found out tonight is extremely important to us," I told her. "I'm so impressed at the way you tracked Justin down with so little to go on. We would never have found him without you." Martin looked up and smiled at Cindy as well. Despite his foul mood, I could tell how grateful he was to her. "Now," I said, "I want the two of you to go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a big day. I'm going to try to meet with Miz Rosa at the first opportunity. Martin, if you can come by after work, I'll give you an update on whatever I accomplish." The adrenaline from their adventure had long since worn off, and the two of them were as tired as I. They headed out the door. The next day, I had no difficulty setting up an appointment with Rosa Brindisi's office. In fact I got the distinct impression she was eager to see me, probably hoping we were ready to accede to her demands. "I'll bet she's looking forward to her moment of triumph," I thought. When I arrived at her office, I was once again quickly ushered into Rosa's presence. Her face was beaming as she greeted me. "Well, Miz Sara, I'm so glad to see you this morning. I'm sure your visit has to do with the Peterson case, right?" "Yes it does, Miz Rosa," I replied evenly. "Good, good," she responded, "I'll just get out the property settlement and we can . . ." "This is not about the property settlement," I said sharply, interrupting her. She frowned and raised one eyebrow. "Very well, Miz Sara, what's on your mind this morning?" "When we met before, Miz Rosa, you assured me that little Justin Peterson was in a safe environment." "And he is," she came back, "he definitely is." I went on, "And you also assured me that his mother was not living in sin with her lover in her new place of residence." "Of course she's not," Rosa shot back impatiently. "Very well, how do you explain this?" At that I handed her the camera Cindy had used last night to film her surveillance. I pushed the PLAY button. Cindy had managed to capture the Tye street sign and the house numbers on camera. Rosa was visibly startled when she realized we knew where Jodie and Justin were living, but she quickly regained her composure. "How very enterprising of you to track her down, Miz Sara." "Keep watching," was all I said. The scene now shifted to the bedroom window where Jodie was disporting herself with her lover. A wry smile came to Rosa's lips as she watched Jodie's ministrations to her boyfriend. "Well, well, I wondered how long that little minx would be able to keep her panties on." Then she turned to me and handed me back the camera. "All very interesting, Miz Sara, but I've seen pornographic movies before, and this isn't even a very good one. Just because my client managed to sneak some lover into her bed does not in any way alter the basic issues of this case." "Miz Rosa," I said in a quiet voice, "you haven't seen the end of the video. Please keep watching." I handed her back the camera and she resumed watching the sexual interlude. I could tell she was growing increasingly impatient, when the camera showed Jodie pulling her lover up for a final embrace. The man's face was clearly revealed in the light from the bedside lamp. Rosa gasped. "Bastardo!" she yelled, slamming her fist onto her desk with such force that it shook the little Venetian glass figurine she kept there. "That's my husband!" She proceeded to curse for a full minute in a language I could only assume was Italian. Finally, she looked up at me. "That sneaky little bastard!" she said angrily. "He must have met her when he was in the hospital for his appendectomy. There I was feeling so sorry for him and the little cheater was hitting on his nurse!" She looked at me and said rather humbly, "I never knew who her sugar daddy was, Miz Rosa. I would never have put her in that house we bought if I'd known he'd been the one she was seeing." Suddenly, her countenance grew dark again with a combination of anger and fear. Her look made me think of a cornered animal. "Who else have you showed this to?" she demanded loudly. "No one," I said quietly. Then I picked up the camera, opened the case, removed the memory card and handed it to her. Her face slowly relaxed, and she looked at me as if assessing a creature with which she was not familiar. "In some people's hands, that video would have humiliated me, made me a laughing stock. There are people in this town who would love to do that. You could have hurt me badly and done so very easily." "That's not the way I was raised," I replied. "There may be times when we are rivals, but you are not my enemy." She continued to look at me in silence; then she nodded her head as if she'd reached a decision. "I'm not used to acts of kindness from others, Miz Sara. I owe you." She rose and walked from behind her desk to stand in front of me. "If you and Mr. Peterson can be at your office late this afternoon, I'd like to call on you." When I told her we'd be sure to be available, she nodded and said, "I'll see you all then." Then, to my astonishment, she reached out and hugged me as though we'd been lifelong friends. She returned to her desk and I left to drive back to my office. When I came in the door, Cindy was almost beside herself in her eagerness to hear what had happened. "Before we do anything else, Cindy, I want you to call Martin and make sure he comes over here as soon as he can get away from the bank. I'm not sure what's going to happen," I told her, "but I think we're going to have a 'royal' visitor." Cindy raised her eyebrows at my remark, but then hurried to her desk to call Martin. I refused to talk to her about my meeting with Rosa until Martin arrived. I didn't want to have to tell the story twice, and I wanted to hear their reactions together. Not surprisingly, Cindy wasn't worth much all day. She kept pestering me for information, but I held firm until Martin finally arrived. He too was on pins and needles. When I recounted the scene in Miz Rosa's office that morning, the two of them were stunned to learn that the mysterious secret lover was none other than Rosa Brindisi's husband. I had met him once or twice in the past, and had been shocked to see him in Cindy's video. "How in the world did he come to take up with Jodie?" Martin wanted to know. "From what Miz Rosa said," I explained, "her husband was in Grady Memorial for an appendectomy almost a year ago. They must have met there and he began seeing her after that. All the time that Jodie was cheating on Martin, she was doing it with Rosa's husband -- behind Rosa's back." At that point our conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Rosa Brindisi, who swept regally into my foyer wearing yet another red dress. She smiled warmly at me, and then stepped forward to introduce herself to Martin. He was polite but cool to her. She, of course, picked up on that immediately. "Don't be angry with me, Mr. Peterson, it was just business," she said. "Besides," she went on, "I have a surprise for you." With that, she opened the front door, and in walked her husband. As he entered, the first thing we noticed about him was the prominent purple shiner on his left eye. The second thing we noticed was that he was leading a little boy in his hand. "Daddy, Daddy," Justin yelled, and went running into his father's arms. I don't think any of us had a dry eye as we saw the father and son reunited. As the commotion continued, I stepped over to Miz Rosa and nodded toward her sullen husband. "I'm glad to see you two are still together." She looked at him, then turned to me and said grimly, "He may be a bastard, Miz Rosa, but he's my bastard." She looked back at the happy scene again. Cindy was down on her knees hugging Justin. "And who is this pretty young thing?" Rosa asked. "May I present Miss Cindy McCarty, my assistant. She's the one who figured out where Justin was, and she also took that video you watched." "Very clever of you, my dear," Rosa said to Cindy, who was now standing. "If you ever get tired of working for Miz Sara, come and see me." Cindy smiled and nodded demurely, but I felt pretty certain she had no interest in changing sides, especially not with Miz Rosa. The Italian attorney then turned to her husband and ordered him sharply to go and get the car ready. He slunk out the door, and she prepared to leave as well. Before she did so, however, she turned back to me and said, "Miz Sara, please give me a call the end of next week. I think I'll have some more news about this case by then that will be of interest to you." Then she turned and went out the door. After she and her husband had left, I decided to close the office early. Martin and Cindy were eager to take Justin out for dinner, and I was just worn out from the dramatic few days we'd had. The three of them headed out, and I prepared to close up shop and enjoy a relaxing weekend. But just as I was about to close and lock the front door, Phil Wasserman appeared on the steps. His shoulders were slumped and his face was crestfallen; obviously he'd had some bad news. "Come in, Phil," I urged him. "What's the matter?" "Miz Sara, it looks like I'm going to be needing your help after all. Valerie has filed for divorce." "Valerie?" I said in surprise. "You were the one contemplating divorce, not her." "She told me today," he said sadly. "She's been seeing Marshall ever since that fateful night. She's fallen in love with him. He's going to leave Nancy, and he and Valerie are going to get married. She handed me the papers this afternoon." "Oh, Phil, I'm so sorry," I offered. "Do you think there's any chance she might change her mind?" "I don't think so, Miz Rosa," he said resignedly. "She told me that she had never felt with me what she does with him. Even if she were to have a change of heart down the road, I don't know that I could ever go back with her after hearing that." There wasn't much I could say after that, except to assure him that I'd handle his case and try to ensure a fair settlement. After he left, I shook my head and thought how hard it is to know how people will react to different situations. Phil Wasserman had wanted to spice up his marriage; instead, he aroused his own insecurities while pushing his wife into a relationship that transformed from lust into love. I was reminded of a line from William Shakespeare, my favorite author. Appropriately enough, it's from A Midsummer Night's Dream: "Lord, what fools these mortals be!" The next week was pretty routine, but I have to confess I was eager to hear what news Rosa had for me. Accordingly, I called her first thing Friday morning, as she had asked. When I reached her, her tone of voice was friendly, but there was a steely edge to it. "I have some news for you about Jodie Peterson," she told me without delay. "It appears that she has had several adverse events in her life. She was pulled over for a routine traffic check, and the investigating officer found a small quantity of marijuana in her car. Normally, that would only have resulted in a misdemeanor charge. Unfortunately, her nursing license in Georgia was up for renewal, and when the board learned of her indiscretion, they denied her application. Since she no longer has a place to live and is unable to work in her chosen profession in Georgia, she has informed me that she intends to return to South Carolina to live with her parents. Under the circumstances, she has decided to abandon her petition for divorce." "How very interesting," I thought to myself, "I always knew that Miz Rosa was well connected in this state, but I don't think I realized just how well." To Miz Rosa I replied, "I'm sorry to hear of Mrs. Peterson's misfortune, but that's certainly good news for Martin and his son. However, given all that has transpired, you won't be surprised to hear that I think Martin himself will now wish to file for divorce." "I'm not surprised at all," she said calmly. "Of course, since she's moving to South Carolina, I will no longer be able to represent her. I'm sure, however, that she'll be able to find adequate representation there." There was a pause, and then Rosa spoke again, this time with warmth. "I hope I'll see you again sometime soon, Miz Sara. It's been a real pleasure getting to know you." I assured her, "I feel the same way, Miz Rosa." As it turned out, we were not to encounter one another until almost a year later, and in a somewhat unlikely setting. The Georgia Bar Association holds its annual Barrister's Ball on the weekend nearest July 6th in commemoration of the death of Thomas More, the patron saint of lawyers. I saw a certain irony in the fact that the chancellor of England had been beheaded, but no one else cared; they thought it was a great excuse to throw a party. Now I'm not much for fancy dress-up balls and such, but, as a member of the Ethics Committee I felt it was my duty to attend. They give all the committee members four tickets, so I invited my old friend John Nesbitt as my date. John was a widower and also an attorney whom I greatly respected, so I felt very comfortable asking him to come with me. I gave the other two tickets to Cindy. I thought she was more likely to enjoy the dinner-dance than I would. John and I got to the party a bit early. We made our way to our table and were just getting seated when Rosa Brindisi came striding up with her husband in tow. She was wearing a long red dress which, given her short, heavy stature, reminded me of nothing so much as a mound of pasta marinara. But her greeting was warm; she seemed genuinely glad to see me. Once she had been introduced to John, she looked at our table and then summoned her husband. "The wine they're serving tonight isn't worth washing dishes with. Go to the hotel bar and buy four bottles of their finest Asti Spumante and bring them to Miz Sara," she commanded. As he left sullenly on his errand, I smiled at Rosa and said, "I see nothing has changed in your home life." She smiled back and said, "Oh yes there has. I keep him on a short leash now, a very short leash!" With that, she kissed me on the cheek and swirled away. I turned to John and told him, "She makes for a rather dramatic friend, but you wouldn't want her as your enemy." While we were chuckling at that, Cindy arrived to join us at our table. I was pleasantly surprised at her dress. It was stunning, but sophisticated and tasteful rather than overtly sexy. "My little girl seems to be growing up," I thought. I wasn't surprised to see the young man who was accompanying her; it was Martin Peterson. As I'd expected, when he learned that Jodie had abandoned her divorce petition, he'd quickly asked me to file on his behalf. She had not contested the divorce; in fact she seemed to want nothing to do with anything connected with Atlanta any more. I thought again of all that had happened. Jodie Peterson had made a serious error in judgment when she crossed Rosa Brindisi. I had also known that Cindy and Martin had continued to see one another after Martin's divorce was final. Although he no longer had business reasons to frequent our office, he and Justin continued to show up often when the work day was done, and the three of them would head out for the evening. Now, as we greeted them, Cindy seemed to be absolutely glowing. "Martin, what a pleasant surprise! I'm so glad you're here tonight," I said, meaning every word of it. I really had come to like the young man. "And I have another surprise for you, Miz Sara," Cindy said, scarcely able to contain herself. She held out her left hand, on which a brilliant diamond was gleaming. "Martin and I are engaged!" Of course John and I scrambled to our feet to congratulate the smiling couple. It was wonderful to be able to celebrate their happiness in such festive surroundings. As I resumed my seat, I couldn't help thinking that I'd soon be looking for another assistant. I hated the thought: Cindy had proved so bright and brave and full of initiative I couldn't imagine possibly finding a suitable replacement. Yet I couldn't help but feel happy for her, and I thought she was definitely ready to move into the next stage of her life. Miz Sara Finds an Unlikely Ally As we were talking happily about their plans, Rosa's husband arrived with our sparkling wine. We told him of our celebration, and, in a moment of charity, I asked if he'd care to share a glass with us. "I'd better not," he mumbled, "Rosa will have my head if I don't get back over there right away." With that, he scurried off. "There's a lesson there for the both of you," I told the happy couple. "Martin, that's no way for a husband to treat his wife, and Cindy, that's sure no way for a wife to treat her husband!"