33 comments/ 30881 views/ 8 favorites Miz Sara Goes on Maneuvers By: FrancisMacomber It was a slow day at the office, so I thought I'd run out and pick up a few supplies from the grocery store. Atlanta was enjoying a beautiful autumn, so that gave me another inducement to get away from my law practice for a few minutes. As I made my way through the produce in the grocery store, I thought, "Now that's unusual. What is Jim Davenport doing here on a week day?" I pushed my cart down the aisle in his direction. "Hi, Jim. What a surprise to find you at the supermarket on a work day!" I called out cheerfully. He smiled when he recognized me. "Oh, hi, Miz Sara, I guess you haven't heard: I got laid off at work." "Oh, no, that's terrible, Jim!" I exclaimed. "I'm so sorry to hear that." I was shocked. Jim was a mid-level executive at his company and seemed headed for greater responsibilities. I would never have thought he would be laid off. He smiled again. "Actually, it may turn out to be a good thing for me, Miz Sara. My company needed to make some cutbacks, and I guess I was one of those who was considered surplus. But the good news is they decided to offer a number of us salary continuation that will take me to 55 -- early retirement age." "So you don't plan to look for another job?" I asked. He thought about it for a few moments. "I've spent my entire adult life working, striving to climb the corporate ladder. But now that I'm away from work, I find that I don't miss all the pressure, the deadlines, the conference calls and the corporate bull. . . I mean, all the corporate red tape." "My wife and I are definitely going to have to cut back on our spending, and Peggy isn't too excited about that," he admitted. "But if we're careful, we'll be just fine. And now that I'm out of the rat race, maybe I can even start to enjoy life. I always wanted to go on a Mediterranean cruise but could never find the opportunity to take that much time off from work." "It sounds to me like you're not having any problems making the transition," I said with a smile. "The only real drawback I've encountered so far is that I have all this spare time on my hands," he laughed. "Now that I'm not working fifty to sixty hours a week, I'm going to have to develop a hobby." I smiled at him. "Well, I'm sure your wife is delighted to have you around more." "You might get a different answer if you asked Peggy," he grinned. "She doesn't know what to do with me at home all the time. She tells me I'm always under foot; that's why I'm out doing the grocery shopping!" I patted his hand. "Well, I'm sure you'll find something to keep you occupied. But you have to admit: it's a nice problem to have!" He agreed, and we went on our separate ways. I knew Jim from when we both served on the board of a local charity here in Atlanta. Many people use board memberships as a way to pad their resumes, but Jim was a real doer, actively engaged in the workings of the agency. He had even agreed to serve as treasurer for a couple of years, a responsible but thankless task. I had a pretty high opinion of him. I'd never met his wife Peggy, but I figured if Jim had married her she must have a lot going for her. In any event, I hoped the two of them would use this new opportunity to enjoy themselves. Retirement can be a wonderful new chapter in a couple's lives, but the transition isn't always easy. Of course I didn't know that from first-hand experience, since I was still actively practicing family law. And Marcus had gotten sick well before he reached retirement age, so -- but enough of that. Now was not the time to indulge in self-pity; I had things to do. When I got back to my office in the Virginia Highland section of Atlanta, Marcy was waiting for me. Marcella Jackson is my legal assistant. Like me, she's a graduate of Agnes Scott. I like to hire my assistants from my alma mater; it's one way I have of giving back to the school that gave me so much. But Marcy is different from the assistants I'd had before her: she'd enlisted in the Army immediately upon graduation and had served a stint in Afghanistan. I had been skeptical about whether that sort of background would be appropriate, and she had been equally skeptical about working for me. But after a short time, we had developed a strong bond. I found myself relying on Marcy implicitly, and she proved herself so responsible and thoughtful that it was hard to imagine not having her by my side. Interestingly, the one aspect of her experience I had hesitated about -- her military background -- was in fact a source of strength. She often amazed me with the way she applied her military experience to situations I would have thought had no relation, yet Marcy's perspective frequently shed new light on the problem. In short, it had proved a most fortuitous alliance. As I came in the back door with my groceries, Marcy was there to meet me. "You have a client, Miz Sara, and she seems awfully upset!" "Did I forget an appointment?" I asked. "I don't recall anyone on the calendar, or I wouldn't have run out to the store." "No," she reassured me, "she's a walk-in." "Hmm," I thought, "you never know what you're going to get with a walk-in. Still, I suppose I ought to see her." "Well, dear," I said to Marcy, "let's go see what the lady wants." We walked into the reception area together. Waiting for us was a woman I judged to be somewhere in her late forties, not beautiful but what we used to call "handsome." She was well dressed and had recently had her hair done, but her face looked as though she were under a lot of stress. She held her purse in one hand; in the other she clutched a sheet of bond paper that had been folded and crumpled. I introduced the two of us. "And how can we help you, Ms. . . .?" "I'm Mrs. Harriet Sheridan," the woman replied, "and I think I need an attorney." "Please come into my office and let's discuss the matter," I suggested. After we were all comfortably seated and she had a glass of sweet tea to sip on, I asked, "Why do you feel you need an attorney, Mrs. Sheridan?" "It's because of this, Miz Sara," she said, handing the folded paper to me as though it were something vile and loathsome. I unfolded the sheet and saw that it was an email that had been sent a few days earlier. It read: Miz Sara Goes on Maneuvers "Very well, if you'll give me your address I'll be at your office at 4:30 this afternoon." When I hung up, Marcy looked at me uncertainly. "You're going to meet with her?" she asked. "Yes," I said with a grim smile, "I'm going to appeal to her better nature." When I got to Vera Martindale's place of work, the receptionist escorted me to a small conference room. No sooner was I seated than the door opened again and a tall, slim woman entered. Her hair was cut stylishly short and she wore high heels, a man-tailored blouse and a pencil skirt that showed her figure but were still business appropriate. "Not a true beauty," I thought, "but definitely someone who would be very attractive to men." We introduced ourselves warily, and then she seized the initiative. "I'm quite busy, Mrs. Cannon, so let's get on with it. Why exactly are you here?" "I'm here to keep you from making a fool of yourself over Walter Sheridan," I said briskly. She gasped. I pressed on. "Ms. Martindale, I represent Walter's wife, Harriet Sheridan. I know all about your relationship with Walter, and I'm here to put a stop to it before you get yourself into a great deal of trouble." She rose from behind the conference table. "You have a lot of nerve coming here," she snapped. "My personal life is none of your business, and you have no right trying to tell me what to do! I'll thank you to leave right now." I sat there calmly. "Ms. Martindale, you're the one who has no right to try to break up someone else's marriage. And if you persist in your efforts, you'll find that there's quite a lot I can do to make you regret it. For example, I can easily obtain a restraining order that will keep you at least 500 yards away from Mr. and Mrs. Sheridan for the next three years. I can file a civil suit against you for harassment for a large sum of money. Just having to defend yourself in court against such a suit will prove extremely expensive for you." "Moreover, I can file a criminal complaint against you for stalking that will result in your being investigated by the police. I suspect that won't do your career any good. And speaking of your career, I can notify your company's executives that you have been employing the company's computer network for personal use to send harassing emails. I suspect that could cost you your job, but even if it doesn't, your personal affairs will become common knowledge throughout the office. Is all that what you want, Ms. Martindale, or would you rather sit down and continue this conference with me?" As I was speaking, I could see her face pale behind her make-up, and as I continued, she sat down slowly. By the time I had finished my litany, the anger had left her face, to be replaced by anguish and desperation. "But I love him!" she cried, "and he loves me. If he'd just leave that old bag, we could be happy together." "I'm sorry, Ms. Martindale, but that's not true. You know that, or you wouldn't have sent those emails to Harriet to try to provoke her into divorcing him. He has confessed everything to his wife, and despite your best efforts, she has agreed to take him back." I leaned across the table. "Walter and Harriet have made their choice, Ms. Martindale, and you have no right to interfere, especially now that they've done so. You need to back off and leave the two of them alone from now on." She lowered her head to the table and began to cry piteously. I listened for a minute, then stood up, walked around to the other side of the table and sat down beside her. "I know what it feels like to lose someone you love, Vera," I said quietly. "But sometimes things don't work out the way you want. When that happens, all you can do is accept it and move on. You're a young and attractive woman; I don't believe this will be your last opportunity to find love." Her crying subsided, and I handed her a tissue from my purse. She looked up at me and asked, "Are you still going to sue me and tell my boss?" I gave her a small smile. "No, dear, if you don't bother the Sheridans any more, I'll have no reason to interfere with your life." I left her sitting there, saddened and alone. When I returned to the office, Marcy was eager to learn what had happened. After I'd recounted our confrontation, she asked, "Do you think she'll leave the Sheridans alone now?" I sighed. "It's hard to say, Marcy. A rational person would, but desire sometimes makes people act irrationally. The thing is, she was living in a fairy tale world. I made her understand that in the real world, actions have consequences. Now she knows that there will be serious repercussions if she's foolish enough to try again. My hope is that the Sheridans have heard the last of her." The next day I called Harriet Sheridan to let her know what I had done. I think she rather enjoyed my account of my meeting with Vera Martindale, especially when I recounted the consequences Vera might expect if she persisted in her efforts. I asked Harriet to be sure to notify me know if Vera attempted any further contact, and she promised she would. Then she told me that she and Walter had already made an appointment to meet with a marriage counselor. I wished them good luck and she thanked me profusely for what I had done for her. I hoped it was enough. As it was Friday, despite my reservations Marcy left the office before noon to go off on her "recon mission." As she was leaving, I once again admonished her not to do anything foolish and to return to the office as soon as possible. I trusted her and, I had to admit, I had gone out on a couple of "recons" myself. Nevertheless, I still felt uneasy. It was mid-afternoon when Marcy returned to the office, and as she came in the door, her face revealed a strange mixture of emotions. I was very apprehensive about what that could mean. She came and sat down heavily beside my desk. "Well," I demanded, "what happened? Did you run into any problems?" She looked at me oddly. "No, there weren't any problems. No one saw me or knew what I was doing." "So what did you find out? What about that hunch you had?" "My hunch was right, Miz Sara, but I kind of wish it wasn't," she said glumly. After she explained what she meant, I sat quietly for a minute and then picked up the phone and made a call. When I had finished, I told Marcy what I thought needed to happen, and we began preparing. Neither of us was looking forward to it. When Jim Davenport arrived that afternoon after going to the movie, he was in a jovial mood. "Well, Marcy, are you a better detective than me?" he teased my assistant. She simply smiled briefly and led him into my office. No sooner was he seated than we heard a tapping on the glass at the front door. I left Marcy with Jim and went to answer the door. When I returned, I was accompanied by a woman wearing business attire. Jim looked up, did a double-take, and then blushed furiously. "Mandy, what are you doing here?" Mandy Hamilton looked at Jim with the same bemused look. "I could ask the same question, Jim. Why are you here?" While he was groping for an appropriate response, I interjected, "He's here, Mrs. Hamilton, because he's been spying on you for the last two weeks or so." She gasped in shock. "Spying on me? Whatever for?" "Go ahead, Jim," I said. "Tell her." He couldn't look at her. Finally, he mumbled, "I was trying to find out who you're having an affair with." "What!" she shrieked. "I'm not having an affair! Who told you that?" He looked up at her with embarrassment. "Jerry told me." Before she could respond, I spoke up again. "Please let me explain what's been going on so you'll both understand." I quickly summarized the events that led up to today's meeting. Mandy sat there glowering as she listened. Any joviality that Jim might have felt when our little tete-a-tete began had long since dissipated. I turned to my assistant. "Marcy, please tell Mr. Davenport and Mrs. Hamilton what you observed today on your reconnaissance." She stood up, widened her stance and folded her arms behind her back. "It's like she's about to give an army briefing," I realized. "All she needs is a wall chart and a pointer." Marcy cleared her throat and started. "Most people believe that Eisenhower's invasion of Europe began with Operation Overlord and the assault on Normandy. Actually, the first phase was Operation Fortitude," she began. Both Davenport and Hamilton looked bewildered, so I quickly spoke up. "Let's skip the lecture on military history and go right to what happened today, Marcy." "But that's what I'm doing, Miz Sara," she protested. "It's all about deception and diversion." I just raised my eyebrows, and Marcy sighed. "Oh, all right." She took a deep breath. "When Mr. Davenport told us about Jerry Hamilton's request that he conduct surveillance on Mrs. Hamilton and his eagerness to have Mr. Davenport continue despite the lack of results, the whole thing struck me as odd. The more I thought about it, the more it reminded me of Eisenhower's efforts to mislead Hitler about the European invasion site." I rolled my eyes, and catching my look, Marcy hurried on. "Anyway, I played a hunch. Instead of going to Mrs. Hamilton's office today, I drove out to your home, Mr. Davenport." "Why in the world would you do that?" he asked in confusion. "Because," Marcy answered, "I wanted to find out why Jerry Hamilton would want to ensure you would be away from home at a given time." As the implications of what Marcy was saying began to sink in, Jim's face began to darken, but before he could speak, Marcy turned instead to Mandy. "Mrs. Hamilton, I regret to report that the reason your husband wanted Jim to follow you was so your husband could safely have an encounter with Jim's wife at their home. It appears that they have been conducting an affair for quite some time." Mandy Hamilton's face turned pale with shock. "How can you possibly know that?" she demanded. Marcy looked embarrassed. "People who have main-floor master bedrooms should make sure that their curtains are drawn and their windows fully closed before they do something they don't want others to know about. From what I could gather, Mr. Davenport's unexpected retirement threw a monkey wrench into their regular rendezvous. So Jerry Hamilton came up with the story about your 'affair' as a way to get Jim out of the house." Mandy was outraged, but Jim was in denial and spoke up first. "I just can't believe that Jerry is having an affair with Peggy. He's my best friend. Couldn't it have been some kind of practical joke they were playing on me?" Marcy looked at me questioningly, and I nodded my head. She reached into an envelope she'd left on the coffee table. "I'm sorry, Mr. Davenport, Mrs. Hamilton. I have pictures." With that, she pulled out a stack of photos revealing the two spouses having intercourse, with Jerry Hamilton kneeling behind Peggy Davenport, who was on her hands and knees on the bed. There were a number of different shots, but there was no question about the identities of the two people or what they were doing. As Mandy and Jim looked through the sheaf of photos, a stunned, bitter silence fell over the room. Both were in a state of shock and anger. Finally, I looked to Marcy again. "Go ahead, dear," I prodded. "They have a right to know." Marcy sighed. "My camera also records sound. After I took those pictures, I set the camera on the window sill to see what I could pick up." She flicked a switch and we could hear sound coming over the speaker system. At first it was indistinct; then a feminine sigh could be heard. "That was so good," came the voice of Peggy Davenport. "You know how to do me so well." "Better than Jim?" we heard Jerry ask. She laughed. "You know the answer to that. That clown couldn't keep his job and he can't satisfy me. He's a joke! I'll bet he's still parked outside your wife's office. I don't know why I ever married him in the first place." Then Jerry snorted derisively. "No, the biggest joke is that anyone would think Mandy could ever attract a lover!" The two of them chortled at that. Then Peggy's tone of voice changed. "Speaking of lovers, do you think we have time for another?" Marcy quickly reached over and turned off the speakers. "You probably don't want to listen to what comes next. Besides, I slipped away shortly after that." Neither Marcy nor I really wanted to look at the two of them just then, but it was clear to both of us that they were in a lot of pain. Both just sat there trying to comprehend the sudden end to their illusions and their marriages. Finally, I felt I had to break the silence. "Now that you know what's been going on, what do the two of you want to do about this?" Mandy Hamilton was the first to respond. There were tears running down her cheeks, but she had a determined look on her face. "Miz Sarah, I will be filing for divorce from my cheating husband as soon as possible. Would you be so kind as to represent me?" I sighed. "Yes, under the circumstances I'm certainly willing to do so." She got a determined look on her face. "Good, because after what I've seen and heard today, I want to take that bastard to the cleaners. He's going to regret what he's done to me before this is all over." "Hold on a minute," I said hastily, "I know how upset you are at all this, but I hope you're not planning on doing anything rash." "Oh, no, Miz Sara," she replied evenly, "I don't have to. Jerry is not as smart as he thinks he is. I may have a little surprise for him." After she explained what she had in mind, Marcy and I exchanged glances. I couldn't help but think of Congreve's famous line: "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Jim still sat quietly. It was clear that today's revelations had caught him completely by surprise and he was having a difficult time digesting what he had seen and heard. As I watched him staring at the floor, my heart went out to him. He certainly had done nothing to be treated so cruelly by his wife and best friend. "Are you going to be okay, Jim?" I asked softly. He looked at a point somewhere over my shoulder and a thousand yards distant. "I thought she loved me. I thought we had our lives all worked out. We were going to enjoy retirement. Sure we would have to be careful with our money, but I thought we were going to do things together, visit places we'd never been and share all sorts of experiences." I'd heard the contempt in his wife's voice when she and her lover talked about Jim, and I thought there was little chance of reconciliation. But it's not my place to make decisions for my clients, so I wanted him at least to consider his options. "Jim," I said softly, "perhaps that life is still possible if you think you could forgive Peggy's infidelity." He shook his head bitterly. "I had no clue what she really thought of me, no idea that she was dissatisfied with our marriage." He looked at me and the pain in his eyes was obvious. "After the way she's deceived me, how could I ever trust her again, Miz Sara?" "Maybe counseling could provide some of those answers," I essayed. He just shook his head. "You heard Marcy's recording: Peggy neither loves nor respects me, and apparently hasn't for some time. All she was interested in was the income I provided, and now that I've retired, she has no use for me at all. I could never forgive, much less forget all that." He snorted. "And as for Jerry Hamilton, my so-called best friend is still trying to play me for a fool. He called me this afternoon before I came over here, and he had the nerve to ask me to spy on Mandy again on Monday. I guess he has another session planned with Peggy." He looked up at me with determination. "I'm going to need your services too, Miz Sara." I try to be dispassionate about my clients. It doesn't help to become emotionally involved in their cases, even when I think they're in the right. Yet I find myself becoming involved far more often than I should. I had taken offense at Vera Martindale's attempts to break up the Sheridan's marriage, so much so that I wanted to confront her personally. Now for the second time in a week I found myself outraged at the way their spouses had so callously betrayed Jim Davenport and Mandy Hamilton. My dander was up. I turned to the two of them. "I can certainly understand your feelings. From what we've learned today, it appears that your spouses have been manipulating and deceiving you both for some time now and have taken great pleasure in doing so. I think it's time we put a stop to that. In fact, now that I think of it, I believe there's a way we could even give them a little taste of their own medicine, if you'd like to do that." I saw Jim and Mandy glance at each other, and for the first time since our meeting had started I saw a little spark of life in their eyes. Mandy spoke first: "I would love to do that." Jim just nodded vigorously. "In that case," I said, "here's what I propose we do." We spent another hour discussing and refining our little plan "If you want to make this work," I told them, "you'll have put on a good act this weekend. You'll both have to pretend that nothing has happened and you know nothing about their little affair. Do you think you can do that?" "For me that will be easy," Jim spoke up. "Peggy is driving over to Birmingham this weekend to visit her sister, so I'll be a bachelor anyway. It'll probably be pretty late when she gets home Sunday evening, so I won't have to do much acting at all." I turned to Mandy. "I won't have a problem with it either" she said. "It's a big football weekend for Jerry. Georgia is playing Tech on Saturday, and then he has tickets for the Falcons' game on Sunday. I'll hardly see him." Finally, we had it all planned out. It wouldn't change what had happened, but it might help Jim and Mandy feel a little bit better. And I knew it would give me some satisfaction to help them. Mandy Hamilton left for home, but Jim hung back. I went over and sat beside my friend. "What is it, Jim?" "Miz Sara," he said emphatically, "Today I learned that my wife doesn't love me and hasn't for a long time. I learned that she and the guy I thought was my best friend have been making a fool and a cuckold of me in my own bed. I've had all sorts of wild fantasies about confrontations and revenge." I looked at him apprehensively, but he hurried on. "But after all that, I've decided I don't want to confront her, I don't want to have to hear her excuses or apologies; in fact I'd be happy if I never had to see either one of them ever again. The sooner they're out of my life, the better I'll feel." I looked at him thoughtfully and then nodded. "I understand, Jim. You're not the first client to feel that way. When a spouse's behavior is that egregious, they just want to be done with them." He nodded. "In that case," I continued, "I have an idea. You said you wanted to travel -- why not take this opportunity to do just that? You could simply leave while she's in Birmingham and leave the two of them to face the consequences." A smile came to his face for the first time since our meeting started. "I like that, Miz Sara. In fact, I've been researching travel options on line for some time now, and there's a cruise ship leaving from Miami for the Mediterranean on Monday afternoon. I think I'll do it. She cut me out of her life; now I'm going to do the same to her." Then he hesitated. "But what about our plan?" I smiled back at him. "Just leave everything else to me. I think I'm going to enjoy this." Since he was going to be out of touch, we talked about what kind of financial settlement he wanted. Afterwards, he thanked me and left. As he walked through the door, I saw him straighten his shoulders, and I felt a little better for him. "He's walking like a man with a purpose," I thought. Miz Sara Goes on Maneuvers As Marcy and I straightened up things in the office, she looked at me, and I could see she had a question. "Well, what is it?" I finally asked. "Miz Sara," she said, "I just don't get it. How could those two people have been carrying on an affair like that without Jim and Mandy knowing about it? You'd think they would have had some clue." "Not necessarily, Marcy," I told her. "In my experience, good and honorable people tend to have faith in those close to them. They expect others to act the way they do; they aren't constantly on the lookout for untrustworthy behavior." "So good people are just naïve and vulnerable?" Marcy asked. "Dishonorable people can certainly take advantage of them," I acknowledged, "but I've found that they are at a similar disadvantage. Because they cheat and lie, they assume that everyone else will act the way they do, and they can get surprised just as easily." "Take Vera Martindale. She thought Harriet Sheridan would divorce Walter when she learned of his infidelity. She didn't count on Harriet's willingness to forgive her husband. She expected her to throw him out, and her plans were thwarted when Harriet didn't act that way." "Or take our two cheating spouses. I believe our little gambit on Monday will work because they expect everyone else is just like them. That makes them vulnerable." We finished getting everything in order for Monday, but before she left, Marcy turned back to me with a big grin on her face. "I believe you must have read a little bit about military strategy too, Miz Sara." "What do you mean, Marcy?" She smiled. "After listening to what you've got planned for Monday, I think you may have taken a chapter from Operation Desert Storm." This time I understood her reference. "We'll just have to see if our little two-pronged attack is as successful as General Schwarzkopf's," I said with a wink. After an anxious but uneventful weekend, Marcy and I were both in to work early on Monday. I had some filings that had to get to the courthouse first thing, but after they had been made, the two of us nervously killed time until Jim Davenport arrived about 11:00. He'd thoughtfully brought along some sandwiches, and we all picked at them, but we were too keyed up to eat much. Marcy left at noon; Jim and I stayed in the office. Finally, I glanced at the clock, which now read 12:30. "Okay, Jim, it's time," I said. "Remember: stick to the script." He nodded, picked up his cellphone and dialed. I didn't want to say anything to Jim, but this was the one weak link in our plan. If there was no answer, we would be out of luck. But I had felt it highly likely that a call from Jim's cell would not go unanswered, and I was right. "Jerry," Jim said, "I'm glad I caught you. Listen, all that surveillance finally paid off. You were right: Mandy is having an affair! She left the office at noon, and I followed her to your home. Shortly after that, a man drove up and went inside with her. They're there now." Even sitting across from Jim, I could hear Jerry's exclamation through the phone. "I'm sure, Jerry" Jim reiterated. "She met him at the door with a big embrace and a kiss. They're in there now; if you hurry, you can catch them together." This time I clearly heard Jerry yell, "Sonuvabitch!" and then hang up the phone. I stood up. "I have to get going, Jim. As soon as you've made your other call, please lock up the office when you leave." He too stood up, and I leaned over the coffee table to give him a little hug. "I hope this proves to be just the right thing for you," I told him. "Remember: it will get better." "Thank you for everything, Miz Sara," he said, and surprised me with a hug. Then I headed for my car. As I drove, I thought about Jim. I hoped that he would enjoy his cruise. It was something he'd long wanted to do, and I hoped the experience would not only serve to put some distance between himself and his marriage but also provide him with a pleasant diversion. At the same time, I knew that he'd always planned to take the cruise with Peggy; now he was going alone. I felt he had some rough times ahead. My GPS was working well for a change, so my trip took exactly as long as I'd planned. I parked my car in the driveway and marched up the walk to the front door, giving two sharp raps. I heard the scurry of feet within and then the door flew open to reveal an attractive woman in her late forties clutching a dressing gown around her. Her hair was mussed and her make-up smeared. I had expected that. "What's going on, Jerry? Is everything . . ." Then she stopped as she realized that her visitor was not whom she was expecting. "Who are you? What do you want?" "Good day, Mrs. Davenport. I'm Sara Cannon," I replied coolly. "May I come in?" One of the nice things about growing old is that you can get away with things a younger person can't. Peggy Davenport was hesitant, but she pulled the door open and stepped back. I strode briskly into her living room. "We can talk in here," I said. Flustered, she sat down across from me and pulled her dressing gown more tightly around her. "Do I know you," she asked in confusion. "No, Mrs. Davenport, but I know you. And you don't have to worry about Jerry Hamilton. I doubt very much that your lover will be returning here today." She gasped, but attempted to bluff her way through her surprise at my words. "I don't know what you're talking about," she sputtered. "I think you'd better leave." I smiled thinly at her. "Oh, I will, Mrs. Davenport. But first I have something to give you." I reached across the table and handed her a sheaf of papers. "What is this?" she asked, looking at the papers blankly. Then, some of the words must have caught her eye, because she looked at the top sheet more closely. "This is a divorce petition!" "That's right, Mrs. Davenport. Jim Davenport is suing you for divorce. I'm his attorney, and now you have been duly served." "This is absurd," she sputtered. "He has no reason to want a divorce." "Apparently, you haven't looked all the way through the papers I gave you," I said evenly. She began to shuffle impatiently through the pages of the petition, when she suddenly realized that the last few sheets contained images rather than type. Then she gasped again when she saw the photographs that Marcy had taken of Jerry and her in flagrante delicto. As she stared at them, she clutched her gown to her throat; then she flung the whole package to the table like it was some poisonous snake. "Where is Jim?" she demanded. "I have to speak with him. This is all a mistake. I have to make him understand what happened." "I'm afraid that won't be possible," I told her calmly. "Jim left today for a month-long cruise, and he has no desire to see or speak with you about this matter. From now on, any information you wish to convey to him will have to come through me. You'll find my telephone number at the end of the petition." "That isn't fair," she exclaimed. "I have the right to speak to my own husband. He has to listen." "I'm afraid when you and Jerry Hamilton conspired to betray him so contemptuously, you forfeited any such right. You no longer have nor deserve any claim on his attention or his affection." I could tell her thoughts were darting in all directions, and she suddenly came back to something I'd said earlier. "Wait a minute, where is Jerry? Why won't he be coming back? What have you done with him?" "You needn't look to Mr. Hamilton for assistance," I said. "He has problems of his own. As we speak he is being served with a similar divorce petition by Mrs. Hamilton." She just stared at me with her mouth open. "My business here is almost concluded, Mrs. Davenport, but before I go, I have a bit of advice to give you. I know how desirous you are of a wealthy lifestyle, but I'm afraid you're going to have to learn how to live in reduced circumstances. The financial settlement your husband is proposing is quite fair, but it will not leave you well off. You'll want to have your own attorney review it, but I strongly suggest that you accept Jim's offer. The petition I handed you is based on the grounds of irreconcilable differences. If you decide to play games, we can easily amend those grounds to adultery, in which case the photos you've seen and a recording of your conversation with Mr. Hamilton at the time will all become part of the public record. I really don't think you want that to happen, Mrs. Davenport." She was about to reply when the phone began to ring. She turned to answer, but apparently thought better of it. As she turned back, I spoke up. "You'll want to be sure to return that call, Mrs. Davenport. I'm pretty sure it's your daughter calling to demand an explanation. Jim has already told her about your whole sorry affair." She gasped yet again and then collapsed back down on the sofa, tears streaming from her eyes. I stood up. "That concludes my business with you today, Mrs. Davenport. I'll show myself out." I walked over to the door and grasped the knob, then turned back to face her. "One more thing, Mrs. Davenport, I'd take care with that gown and your sofa. The evidence of your infidelity today is leaving stains." She leapt up and turned, only to spot the damp sticky splotch on the cushion of the sofa. I heard her wail as I walked through the door, and I wondered whether it was the stain on her sofa or her reputation for which she was crying. When I got back to my office, Marcy was waiting. I recounted my visit to Mrs. Davenport, and I'm ashamed to admit that we both took an unhealthy amount of glee in her dismay. Then I demanded that Marcy tell her half of the story. She was eager to do so. "I got to the Davenport house just after Mandy. She let me in and I found a seat out of the way in the dining room. We had to wait a while, but then we heard Jerry's car drive up and screech to a halt." She giggled, "He came running up to the front door, and he was so upset he had trouble getting his key into the lock." "When he finally got the door open, Mandy was standing there waiting. Jerry got very red in the face when he saw her. 'Where is he?' he demanded. 'I know you've got a man in this house!'" "'You're right,' Mandy told him. 'He's waiting in the living room.'" Marcy grinned. I could see she was enjoying this. "Jerry went storming into the living room, and I could see him from where I was sitting. His face was bright red, and then it suddenly turned pale when he saw Mandy's father sitting there. Her Dad stood up and gave that man a tongue-lashing that would have made my old drill sergeant proud." "You should have been there, Miz Sara. Mandy went to stand next to her father and then turned to Jerry. 'You think you're pretty smart to carry on with Peggy Davenport," she told him, "but you don't know everything. You think you got your job and your title because you're such a hotshot. Well, you're wrong -- the reason you got hired is because my father owns the company. He arranged to have you hired after we got married, and now that we're getting a divorce, he's going to arrange to have you fired!'" "Then Mandy motioned to me, and I came into the living room. Jerry was startled; he had never seen me before and didn't know who I was or why I was there. So I just marched right up to him and handed him the envelope with his copy of the divorce petition. When he tore open the envelope, the first thing he saw were the photos I'd taken of him and Mrs. Davenport. When he saw that, Miz Sara, his shoulders slumped like a flat tire, and he just turned and walked out of the house." Marcy grinned again. "It was perfect, Miz Sara. He was a beaten man." Then her smile disappeared. "But after he'd gone, Mrs. Hamilton began to cry her heart out, and her Dad just held her. They both were pretty upset, so I slipped out and came back here." She looked at me reflectively. "I guess it's a lot like warfare, Miz Sara. Whether you win or lose, both sides take casualties." After all the excitement of the two confrontations, the conclusion of the case was somewhat anticlimactic. The surprise of being caught in infidelity combined with the shock of losing his job and his wife knocked all the wind out of Jerry Hamilton. He didn't contest the divorce or the financial settlement we proposed. Splitting Jerry's and Mandy's assets required that they put their home on the market, but in the poor economy they got little more than what remained on their mortgage. Peggy wound up moving into an apartment, but at least she was debt-free and employed. Jerry didn't fare as well. Losing his job in the midst of an economic downturn proved to be a bigger blow than losing his marriage. After a fruitless search locally, he finally left Atlanta to look for work elsewhere. Mandy hasn't heard from him since. For some reason, Peggy Davenport lost all interest in Jerry once she found out he had lost his job. Instead, she contacted me repeatedly to try to arrange a meeting with Jim to seek a reconciliation. But he absolutely refused to have any contact with her, and ultimately she had to accept the inevitable. We left the grounds of the divorce as irreconcilable differences. There were some negotiations over the division of property, but ultimately Jim offered her the house in lieu of alimony and other considerations. He told me he didn't mind giving up the house because he could never see himself living there again. Peggy had hoped that the equity in the house would provide the basis for maintaining her lifestyle, but she was disappointed to find that its value was far lower than she had expected. After the sale, she wound up moving to Birmingham to live with her sister. There was one last little bit of irony in the case. Winter was mild and we had a beautiful spring in Atlanta. Often, an early spring means a long hot summer, but this time the mild temperatures stayed with us all the way into May. The weather was so pleasant that Marcy and I decided to enjoy another picnic lunch in Piedmont Park. We were just spreading out the food on our blanket when a man approached us. At first I didn't recognize him because his hair was longer and he was wearing a well-trimmed beard, but something about his eyes gave him away. I stood up and went to give him a hug. "Jim," I exclaimed, "how wonderful to see you!" "Hi, Miz Sara, hi, Marcy," he said, almost shyly. "It's been a long time." "It has been a long time," I agreed, "almost eight months. How are you doing?" "Much better," he said. "I had a bit of a rough time when my divorce became final, but a lot of good things have happened to me, and that's really helped." He gestured with his hand and a pretty blonde woman sitting on a blanket under some trees waved back. "So I see," I said with a little smile. "I've been meaning to come and see you and Marcy for some time now," he went on. "I wanted to thank you again for all you did last year." He smiled. "The story about your meeting with Peggy made me feel a whole lot better." I didn't say anything. Even now I wasn't sure whether I had done the right thing in confronting her that way. But it was clear that Jim had no doubts, and perhaps that was the important thing. "There's something else I wanted to tell you, Miz Sara," Jim went on. "I had some news from my old company recently. It seems the reason they let some of us go was to make the company more attractive to a corporate suitor. Well, it worked: a big multinational corporation has just made a bid to acquire them." I looked at him puzzledly. "That's very interesting, Jim, but how does that affect you?" He smiled. "When they let me go, they let me keep my stock options. At the time, they had no value because they were under water, so Peggy didn't want them in the divorce settlement. But after the takeover bid, based on today's share price, they're worth almost a million dollars!" "Congratulations, Jim!" I exclaimed. "What wonderful news. I'm so glad for you." "Thanks, Miz Sara." As he started to rejoin his lunch companion, he turned back for a moment. "I hope Peggy hears the news," he said with a grin of satisfaction.