The Divorce Lawyer

The Divorce Lawyer

Just a short story about cheating and divorce from the other side of the table.

As is usually the case with me, there is no sex in this story.

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I pulled into my regular parking space and took a breath. Looking at the wall in front of my bumper, I read the sign "Harry Burke, Esq." That's me and like too many mornings I found myself wishing that I were someone else. It's Thursday morning and I still have two full days to go before I get a break. Just past hump day and I'm already tired. I'm not physically tired. My work is light office work. I'm emotionally exhausted. I'm beaten down and my spirit is crushed.

I sat there in my car for a minute, sipped the coffee I'd picked up just five minutes earlier, and I took stock of my life. "This is where a law degree gets you?" I thought to myself. "All those years of studying... I was going to right grievous wrongs and bring justice to the oppressed. Instead, I'm filing divorce papers and defending spouses who have received divorce papers. At least half of my clients are cheating jerks, and my job is to get them a favorable settlement. They call what I do 'Family Law'! What an ironic term for someone who makes their living by ripping families apart."

It's a sad reality of my business. They write books and make movies about criminal lawyers, but the truth is that they're mostly bottom feeders and the only lawyers whose clients are more objectionable than mine. Of course, when you need one, you want the best you can find, and money is no object, but most of them are just one step up from the personal injury lawyers that advertise on television. The corporate lawyers form the top of the profession. Below them are the tax attorneys and the family lawyers who specialize in wills and trusts. They may seem boring, but they're well worth the cost. Family lawyers who specialize in divorce fall just below them.

Who am I kidding? I was never going to be a crusading avenger for the underdog. I was an average student in law school, and this is where the average student ends up. Still, I make a good living and every now and again I get a client that makes it all worthwhile. It's rare, but it happens.

I climbed out of my car, grabbed my coffee and my briefcase, and headed into my office. I was early and my secretary wouldn't arrive for a half hour, so I left the door to my inner office open and settled down to prepare for my first appointment.

Damn, this chair fits me like a glove. I suppose that's one thing to be glad for. I took a good strong slurp from my coffee cup.

The unexpected voice behind me says, "When did you get in?"

I just about jumped out of my skin. I spun around and said, "Would you please stop doing that?"

Marie was laughing. Marie is my secretary and she's one of those women who can move through space silently, always watching, always knowing. She has an empathic gift for making clients feel relaxed and safe while maintaining discipline in the office and anticipating my every need. By the time the clients reach my inner office the crying has stopped, the yelling has passed, and we settle into a calm and thoughtful discussion. Marie is a good woman and I sometimes wonder what I would do without her.

"Your first client is Jennifer Davis. She has a nine o'clock settlement conference here. Her husband is represented by Jimmy Smith. It's the second attempt to reach a settlement. Here are her files." With that, she set a short stack of files on my desk and made her way toward the door. Turning back, she said, "I put the pot on if you finish your first cup and there are donuts out here if you get hungry." With that and a smile, she left closing the door behind her.

"Donuts?" I thought to myself. "We don't want them to stay any longer than necessary."

For a moment I considered the opposing council. I'd known Jimmy for about five years. He was tough and aggressive, but honest. He wouldn't knowingly represent a lie and he will go after any lawyer who lies to him. He was a straight-up, honest attorney who tried to do the best for his clients without ever diminishing his own reputation. If I were honest, I'd admit I like the guy.

I picked up the files on Davis and began to review. I knew the facts, but in time the names run together, and I need to remind myself. Names are a big deal in my business. A client gets nervous when his lawyer says, "...that witness, what's his name? The one walking his dog... Or was he jogging?" Nope. Clients don't like that at all.

I picked up my briefing sheet. That's the note sheet I always write to outline the key points of the case. From there I can pick up the detailed documents as I need them. It came back to me quickly. This was a nasty one. They married right out of high school. If I had a nickel... Both work... Crummy jobs... One car... No kids... Cheap apartment in a lousy part of town... He accused her of flirting... She accused him of cheating... No evidence that either is right. Fuck! They're just immature children having a spitting contest. It's exhausting and I take a deep breath. They never had a chance.

"Boss?"

"Damn it!" I jumped out of my skin again. "Please stop doing that!"

She's smiling and I see no sign of repentance. "You're talking to yourself again."

I take a deep breath and will my heart to slow its beating. "You didn't hear me out there, did you?"

"No. I came in to tell you that Jimmy Smith called to say they would be a few minutes late."

"Yeah. Jimmy's probably trying to brief the husband. He's a hot head and Jimmy lost control of him the last time."

"Sounds like fun. I'll leave the speaker channel open in the conference room. You know I have practiced dialing 9-1-1 if I need to." She was giggling but knowing her she probably had practiced it and could do it in the dark if needed.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"Meanwhile, can I get you anything?"

She really is the bright point in my day. I smiled. "No, I'm still working on my first cup. Thanks. Just let me know when Mrs. Davis gets here and show her in."

She made her exit quietly and I resumed my review of the Davis papers. I hate cases like this. It's not much more than two children with their feelings hurt who start shouting at each other. Neither of them wants to listen. They messed up their lives by getting married too young and now they're doubling down with a divorce for no good reason.

If I were honest, I'd have to admit that Jenny Davis is a sweet kid. She's just too immature for marriage and that's something she has in common with her husband. Like most young girls, she's really just looking for approval and a little excitement. I'd bet a C-note that she didn't cheat, but I'll bet a grand she likes to tease the men and flirts as naturally as drawing breath. Hell, she flirted with me when she came in to hire a lawyer. Her husband gets jealous when she flirts, but to be honest I wouldn't like it, either. The difference is he gets even, and two wrongs don't make a right or a marriage.

She filed the initial petition for divorce, and he counter-filed. Both claiming infidelity. Neither has a shred of evidence. She cleaned out the bank accounts and moved back in with her parents. He goes out and gets himself arrested after he beats up a guy who he thinks has been fooling around with her. She keys his car at his job site and gets arrested. Both are in danger of losing their jobs and for nothing.

As I pondered what to do there's a knock at the door and Marie announces that Mrs. Davis has arrived. Marie escorts her in, I offer her a seat by my desk, and we begin to talk.

"So, this is the second try at a settlement conference. I'm sure you remember our first attempt."

She nods. I think she is embarrassed, but there's more. I can already see the anger building, but it's not just anger. There is pain and sadness mixed in. I'm betting she won't make it through the meeting without breaking down. Contrary to what they show you in the TV shows, a woman's tears won't get her a better legal decision unless there is a jury. They just piss off all the professionals who are just trying to get a job done.

"You need to keep your head today. Think clearly. Try to be detached if you can. You and your husband are young, and the truth is you don't have much to fight over, so let's just work it out and you can get on with your life. There are guidelines for this sort of thing, and I can promise you that no matter what happens it's going to end up pretty much like the guidelines say. It's just a matter of how much you want to yell before it's over and you're paying me by the hour, so..."

She's nodding, but I'm not convinced she's hearing me.

We go over the claims and the filings. They both want everything and have nothing.

Soon, Marie knocks on the door and announces that Jimmy and his client have arrived.

I turn to Jenny and ask, "You haven't seen your husband since the last conference?"

She shakes her head and quietly says, "No."

"Okay. Let's stay calm and see if we can get this done. Alright?"

She nods and we head off to the conference room. Marie has done her usual professional job. Jimmy has a coffee, and there are four bottles of chilled water on the table. We take our places and I look at Jimmy. Just a glance and I know this isn't going to go well.

We start with the division of property. Since there is virtually no property, it goes easily enough. Each leaves the marriage with the car they brought into it. Each keeps their retirement account, such as they are. They split their savings down the middle. Joint credit cards have already been paid off and closed out.

He agrees to keep her on his health insurance for six months giving her time to get her own.

He keeps the apartment, and she moves out. She's already moved out, so that part is easy.

The furniture was mostly what they had cobbled together from their parents' basements, and they divided them accordingly.

It had to be something. It's always something. Was it the books? Nope. Music? No. It was the cat. Who got custody of the cat?

He starts in with, "I paid for Boots, and I want to keep him!"

"You gave me Boots for Christmas. He was a gift. You can't take him back!" and so it goes. They fought for thirty minutes over a cat until it finally dawns on me that the cat is a symbol of the kids they didn't have. Crap! Where is King Solomon when you need him?

After a half hour and with no sign of a solution, I suggest we shelve discussion of the cat and come back to him later. That seems to settle both clients down and things are quiet again. We work through a list of wedding gifts and household purchases with some reluctant negotiation and then we come to the one thing that always, always, always raises problems - the rings. He wants back the rings he gave her, and she refuses to part with them. Tempers flare. Angry accusations are made across the table. He's shouting. She's yelling. He rips the wedding band from his hand and slaps it down on the table. She picks it up and throws it back at him.

I look at Jimmy and wonder how many times we've been here before?

The fight over the wedding rings degenerates into a repeat of the infidelity accusations while Jimmy and I give up trying to bring order to the session. We both sit back and hope they will burn themselves out, but they don't. Youthful energy can be a curse sometimes!

Then something happens that I never thought I'd see. Jimmy is on his feet and holding out both hands at the two clients. "No more! I've had all I can take of you two. You say she cheated. She says you cheated. Nobody has a shred of evidence, so here's the deal." Jimmy is pointing his finger at his own client and shouting, "You are going to get strapped into a lie detector and you're going to answer questions."

"The hell! What do you think you're doing? You work for me!"

Jimmy turns to me and says, "Harry, what would you say if we draw up a contract? The lie detector results cannot be used in the divorce. No matter what the results say, they cannot be used by either side."

I'm thinking that Jimmy has lost his God-damned mind when I realize what he's doing. "Agreed!" Then I turn to my client and pointing my finger at her I say, "And you are going to do the same. You take the same test."

"I didn't cheat! He's the cheater!"

"So you say, but he's tired of watching you flirt with every man who comes your way, so you're taking the same test. You pass or you fail, either way he knows the truth."

Jennifer was looking scared. "Are they reliable?"

I soften for a moment. "They're not admissible in court, but they're reliable enough if you're not a psychopath."

She thinks hard for a time and then looks at her husband. "Okay, I'll do it."

Jimmy looks hard at his client. "And you?"

He's not responding and I'm starting to think that maybe he has cheated on his wife after all.

"Either you take the test, or you find yourself another lawyer. I'm sick of this petty bickering and we're putting a stop to it now. Take the test or find another lawyer."

He finally nods.

Jimmy and I knock out a fast contract that states the test results cannot be used in the divorce and our clients sign it. I doubt it would ever hold up in court, but we're hoping to never get there. Hell, they don't have a pot to piss in let alone any real finances to split, so even if the lie detectors prove one of them did cheat it won't make any difference in the final analysis.

Once we're done, we tell the two that they'll hear from us regarding a date and time for each of them, and with that Jimmy and his client leave the conference room. I'd love to be a fly on the wall when they get back to his office, but then I've got my own problems right here.

Jennifer looks at me with tears in her eyes and says, "Are you trying to throw me under the bus?"

Now it's time for me to show a little compassion. I quietly say to her, "You keep telling me you haven't cheated on your marriage. Are you telling me the truth, or not?"

"Yes! I'm telling you the truth!"

"Then you have nothing to worry about. Look, neither one of you has a shred of evidence that the other one cheated. Divorce or not, don't you want to know for sure? If he cheated, then get your divorce and move on, but if he didn't, don't you want to know?"

The waterworks were starting, and she was nodding. "What if he didn't? He still thinks I did."

"Then the test will prove that you didn't. The question you need to be asking yourself is, 'What will you do if neither of you has cheated?' Will you still want the divorce, or will you sit down like two adults and talk it out?"

With that, the dam broke, and Jennifer started with the hiccups. As much as I wanted to throttle them both, these were two good kids who were just in over their heads.

Marie seemed to come out of nowhere with a fresh box of tissues. She sat next to Jennifer and gave me the high sign to get lost. I guess that was my cue to get back to work, so I returned to my office and began drafting papers for Friday.

Sometime later Marie came into my office with a cup of coffee and a bottle of chilled water. She dropped a new stack of files on my desk and picked up a few others, all the while talking nonstop. "Your 12:30 client is Robert Mitchell. He's due here in thirty minutes. It's your first meeting with him and I scheduled him for forty-five minutes. His file's on top. I'll buzz you when he arrives. Don't forget to eat your lunch before he gets here because you know how you get when your blood sugar is low." With that and a smile, she closed my office door and was gone.

Did I say she's great with clients? She's great with me, too. She jolted me out of my melancholy and left me smiling. How does she do it?

I pulled my sandwich out of my briefcase and began looking through the Mitchell file. I thought to myself, "Mitchell... Robert Mitchell. He called me Tuesday asking for an appointment. I sent him some preliminary forms to fill out. Married ten years with two young kids. Finances look typical. House with a mortgage. Driving five- and seven-year-old cars. They both work in that big corporate center across town. He's a computer type and she's a personal assistant. If I had a dime for every personal assistant who got a little too personal with her boss... Enough money in the bank to make the transition from married to single, but no question he's a working stiff. Nothing unusual so far. He wants to file on grounds of adultery and claims he has evidence. Okay, that just got interesting." I make it a point to try to discourage clients from filing on those grounds. Most people don't have the goods to make it stick. Besides, when there are kids involved, the grounds don't amount to much of a difference. She'll get custody. He'll pay child support and become a weekend dad. She'll get the house and he'll pay for it.

I closed the file thinking, "Bob, you're fucked!"

I took a drink from my coffee cup, checked the new stack of files, and contemplated what Bob might be planning to tell me.

I was ready for Bob when he arrived. Marie showed him into my office, and after the customary handshake I offered him a chair by my desk. He was calm and focused, and he appeared organized. I was glad for that as we could skip the usual handholding and get down to business.

"Let's start with the mundane things. You filled out a preliminary statement about finances. Your numbers are approximate, and I'll need some official statements that we can use if we go to court. I want them dated now rather than later because I want to argue that your settlement will be based on when you file the papers. Okay?"

He nodded.

"You and your wife both work so that's good. It may mean we can avoid maintenance or reduce it at least."

He nodded again. So far it seemed I wasn't telling him anything he didn't anticipate.

"Now for the hard part. You have two children from the marriage. Now, don't take this the wrong way, but I need to ask. Are they both yours and your wife's children? No surprises as far as parentage is concerned?"

He nodded, but I could see the anger flare on his face.

"I see where you want custody. I have to tell you that's a long shot. Custody is almost always given to the mother. She almost has to be a crack whore to not get custody and then some judges will give her the time and opportunity to get straight. Custody is stacked against the father from the get-go."

"I know. I'll probably fail, but at the very least I want shared custody and an equal time with my kids."

"That we can get, or we can get close."

I let a moment pass to let that sink in.

"Now, you're asking to file under grounds of adultery. I have to tell you that if you don't have solid evidence, those grounds will be thrown out by the judge and judges don't like it when a spouse claims infidelity and has no proof."

Bob gave me a hard stare, reached forward, and dropped a flash drive on my desk in front of me. "It's all there. I got audio, video, still photographs, and a signed report from a professional investigator."

I stared at the stick and tried not to smile. I can't tell you how many times I've represented someone knowing the other side cheated and not being able to prove it. This was going to be a win for all those cases where an honest spouse got hosed.

I picked up the flash drive, turned, and inserted it into the desktop computer behind me. He had it all. He had them coming and going, flirting over dinner and dancing at night, and he had videos from inside their room. The videos weren't porn quality, but you could see the faces, the nudity, and all the action. I jumped through several files confirming their contents without lingering. Experience told me that Bob may hate her right now, but he didn't want some stranger salivating over his naked wife.