Cafe Lawyer Ch 01

While the front coffee shop was full of its morning customers, the dining room in the back was closed as usual until dinner. I put my laptop down on my table in the back corner and waited for it to boot as Suzie, my usual waitress, brought over my breakfast... Belgium waffle, strawberries, coffee now and iced tea, later...

"Good morning, Hon," she said, pouring my coffee, "how was your weekend?"

"Lonely without you, Suzie," I replied, laughing as she gave me a kiss on the cheek while my desktop background appeared. Optimus Prime... so, I was still a kid at heart.

"Oh, if I wasn't married..." she said, leaving me to my strawberry waffle.

As I watched her sway away, I connected to my aunt's café's WiFi and logged on. Even with running a thirty-dollar tab each weekday because I tipped the girls very well, it was much cheaper than paying the rent on an office and paying for my meals separately somewhere else. Sometimes, though, I wondered if eating three meals a day there was going to kill me. Maybe, I thought, it was time to start ordering from the left side of the menu.

A shadow crossed the table and I looked up at a dark brunette who looked back, albeit with a sense of misgiving on her face.

"Mr. Martin?" she asked, fidgeting from one foot to the other.

"Yes? Are you Mrs. Jondle?" She was on time, I thought. I hated waiting for people.

"Yes. May I sit down?" she asked, nervously.

"Please do. Would you like something to drink? Coffee, hot tea, perhaps..."

"No, that's OK. Do you do all your business in a restaurant?"

"It makes for a more interesting background, don't you think. And, if someone were to see you, you could just say you were meeting an old friend rather than a lawyer. I own it with my aunt, in case you were wondering."

She sat there for a moment, digesting what I had suggested and then had a little half-smile for me. "I guess that makes sense, even if it IS a little strange."

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Jondle? Other than the obvious, I mean."

"I want to sue my husband's girlfriend for stealing my husband, lying, defamation of character and making me lose money. I want to hurt her as badly as I can."

"I appreciate that," I said, "but this is a no-fault state and no matter what you want to do, the state sometimes sees things a little differently. Do you have any children? Are you working? Do you own a home? These are the things that I need to know and then we can go from there."

"No children, no job, no home... I just want a divorce and I want to sue her."

I looked at the woman, who, in my opinion was reasonably good looking with long dark-brown hair, deep, dark eyes and a hint of a smile still on her lips. Her wire-rimmed glasses gave her that 'naughty librarian' look that somehow excited me and I looked away toward my laptop, trying to control my newfound arousal. I looked closer and even in the dimmer light of the café's back room I could see where she had put makeup to cover a bruise on the side of her eye.

"Do you have any idea why he's...?"

"Cheated on me? Yes. He wanted to join a swap group and I told him 'no'. I've done some things in my life that I'm not truly proud of today, but I'm not a slutty whore like that."

For a moment, I looked at her, wondering what kind of slutty whore she COULD be but then I saw a woman who needed my help. Without asking, Suzie brought over another cup of coffee and placed it in front of Mrs. Jondle.

She looked up at the waitress, with sort of a 'deer in the headlights' look. If anyone needed my help, it was her.

"He's hit you, hasn't he?" I said.

She unconsciously put her hand to her face. "Uh, no, not really, it was her..."

"Look, I'll get you into a shelter or..." and for the life of me, I didn't know why I said it, "you can stay with my aunt. She has plenty of room." What I didn't say was that my aunt stayed with me. Same difference, I thought.

"Your aunt?" she asked in a faraway distant voice, her eyes still staring off into space.

"Yeah, I'll let her know before we leave. Now, tell me everything you can about your husband."

For the next three hours, Carol told me about growing up in a small town called Seligman in northern Arizona between Kingman and Flagstaff. It really was in the middle of nowhere and if it weren't for the resurgence of interest in Old 66, the town would have dried up years ago. As it was, it ran about two blocks long and two streets over and that was it.

She got a chance to go to UCLA, jumped at the chance and that's where she met her husband, Bill Jondle, a professor who oversaw doctoral candidates in biology. She thought he was in love with her and she was in love with him and they were married and eventually, his true nature became apparent.

There was no way I was sending her back to her apartment.

"Excuse me," I said, getting up and walking back into the kitchen. My aunt was talking to Juan, the morning cook. I 'harumphed' my throat a couple of times and when she turned, she gave me a smile.

"Jim, will you please tell Juan that not everything has to be so goddamn spicy."

"Juan, not everything has to be so goddamn spicy. Aunt Claudine, I need to speak with you a moment, please."

She turned to me and I saw Juan give me a wink. I sometimes thought there was something going on between the two of them but then shook my head. She was 53 and he was 22... nah, I thought, couldn't be. The thought made me shiver. There damn well better not be... I'd kick his ass back to Ensenada.

"There's a woman out there..." I started to say.

"In your office?" she said, grinning.

I waited for her to stop making me look foolish. She liked doing that. She said it made me more human. "She's going to be staying in the guest room. Her husband's girlfriend's been beating on her... and she's suing."

"Oh, God," said my aunt. "Sure, whatever you need. Wait a minute... you said she wants to sue her husband's girlfriend?"

"Yeah... hey, don't look at me. I'da just got her arrested, myself."

I wondered for a moment how she could agree so quickly until I remembered that her own husband, Phillip, had abused her before he died of lung cancer. As bad as it had been, she was convinced that it was because he was so sick and none of the doctors he had seen had helped him, telling him it was in his head. Today, with modern medicine, that wouldn't have happened but back in the late 60s...

I returned to my table and she was gone but the scent of her perfume remained, making my skin tingle. I cursed myself for being so easily aroused but she had smelled better than any woman had a right to be. It was making my head spin. Had it been that long since I had been with a woman that she was affecting me so deeply?

I knew I should have been smarter and not let an attractive... no, beautiful face entice me like she had. I shook my head and sat down, hoping that she would get over her anxiety and see me again. I brought up the morning news on my laptop and starting reading.

They say when in the seconds before you die your entire life flashes before you. I didn't know about that and hoped not to find out too soon but I discovered that when you're sexually deprived, every fantasy you've ever had about a woman flashes through your mind.

There was a shadow across the table.

"I'm sorry, I had to go to the bathroom," she said. "I forgot about your computer. I shouldn't have left it alone. I'm sorry." She cringed, thinking I was going to berate her. What had she gone through, I wondered.

"That's OK. The girls watch it for me. I thought that you..." I became quiet. There was no sense in making her more uncomfortable than necessary.

It seemed that her loving husband had been having an affair with his sister-in-law and it only became obvious when some video of an Easter dinner had been shown. The glances they gave each other were so telling... but, then, you had to know what to look for in the video.

We talked through lunch and then I took her home. "I won't be back, today," I told Sally, the front hostess.

"OK, Jim," she said, laughing, "then we'll use your table."

..... .....

I got Carol situated in the front bedroom and went into my bedroom to put down my computer. About that time, I realized that she had no other clothes but what she was wearing on her back. I decided to leave that to my aunt to take care of. The two of them seemed similar in size, if not necessarily in taste.

At any rate, I needed to start putting the paperwork together so that her husband and sister-in-law could be served as soon as possible.

"Wash your face and come back here," I started to say. "I want to photograph that bruise."

"But..." She seemed on the verge of tears.

"No buts... just do it. We'll need it to pressure her for what we want."

..... .....

We had dinner that night in the house for I didn't want anyone to see her with me or anyone else. Half a box of spaghettini, some Italian sausage, a couple of tomatoes and a can of olives and one of mushrooms and we were ready. I took a deep breath of the aromatic steam rising from the sizzling skillet. Life was good... at least, during mealtimes. The Italian in me always came out in the kitchen.

"So, you cook on top of being a lawyer. Are you a cook who does law or a lawyer who cooks?"

"I'm a cook who does law. I started working with my aunt way back while I was in high school and kept going. How's your food?"

"Fantastic. You took something so simple and made it special."

"Thank you." I glanced toward counter. "I've carrot cake for dessert."

"Did you make that, too?" she asked, smiling for the first time since I met her.

"No, that came from the café. I don't have that much free time."

That night, we talked about everything except what was really on my mind. At ten, I excused myself, telling her I was going to bed.

"Well, I might as well, too," she said, getting up. "Thank you."

..... .....

The next morning, while I was dressing to go to the café, she knocked on my bedroom door. "Just a minute," I said, pulling on my shirt.

I opened the door. "What can I do for you?" I asked, knowing what I wanted to do for her.

"I was wondering how you liked your eggs."

I was surprised. It never occurred to me that she would cook breakfast but then, she had to eat, even if I would have gone to the café. "Any way is fine, thanks."

I sat down at the table and she put together a decent omelet, using the last of the mozzarella cheese. I reminded myself to put it down on the grocery list. My aunt loved mozzarella, usually on white rice with tomato sauce. Me, I liked it more as part of a pizza. That was the Italian in me, I guess.

"I'll be gone for a while, I have to get some papers filed and then I'll be back. Stay here."

I packed up my valise and left for the courthouse.

..... .....

Later in the morning, just before noon, I returned with her copies of the lawsuit. I had arranged for her husband's girlfriend, the sister-in-law, to be served at the university. It seemed like an appropriate thing to do... higher learning and all.

My aunt had brought home fresh dough the night before and so I was going to make a pizza but then I remembered there was no mozzarella so I put the dough back into the refrigerator and made a couple of tuna sandwiches on the fresh bread she had also brought home.

"This is really good," Carol said. "This bread is fantastic."

"It's made fresh every morning. Since we eat at the café every day, we usually don't have that much in the house unless it's something to make for fun food like pizza or something like that. Usually, I just bring something home."

I could tell she was looking at me. "I, uh, exercise every night, an hour on the treadmill and the bike and I lift every other day."

I saw her blush.

..... .....

The next two days almost went by as usual, except for the fact that I had an unexpected houseguest who was suing her husband's girlfriend while seeking a divorce and my own ex-wife came by, asking for more money.

The first day was taken up by a lawsuit against a hit-and-run driver, a basketball player with the Lakers, who had not only driven drunk but had tried to flee the country. I had my eye on a huge payout and planned on stripping him of a good piece of what he owned. I hated drunk drivers, having been hit twice, myself. Suing for ten million left plenty of wiggle-room in negotiations and I planned on negotiating a good piece of my retirement. Whoever says it's not about the money is a liar or a fool.

The next day, two more lawsuits... one between neighbors and a broken pool drain that turned the other yard into a swamp and an accident lawsuit that I hoped just went to mediation and be done with.

And then, Susan, my very pregnant ex-wife, entered the dining room and sat down at my table. The stupid woman had fallen prey to the myth of the black man and I refused to take her back when I learned of her recklessness.

"Hello, Jimmy," she said, expectantly.

I had told her never to call me that again and as usual, she didn't feel she had to listen. "What do you want, Susan?" I said, angrily. "I'd say you look good but that would be a lie." I wondered what drugs he had been feeding her, now.

"We... I was wondering if you'd help us out. With the baby coming..." Her voice dropped down and became inaudible.

"Look, Susan, the whole reason I gave you that check last time was so that I didn't have to talk to you, see you, pay you again. Go talk to your shithead of a boyfriend and leave me alone."

I noticed some movement near the door that separated the dining room from the coffee shop area. It was him, Joseph. Even now, with her asking me for money, he was wearing his stupid gold chains. Let him sell them, I thought, and just leave me alone.

"You should go, Susan, and don't come back. You've done enough to me. I can' help it if you didn't watch the money like you should have. Goodbye."

"Jimmy..." She started to pout.

"Goodbye, Susan. Don't come back... ever." I could see him starting to walk toward us. What a loser, I thought. After all that happened, he still hadn't married her. Well, hell, I wouldn't have, either... stupid, cheating bitch.

I reached into my briefcase and pulled out my 9mm, resting it in my hand, my finger on the trigger. "What do YOU want, Joseph? I don't recall inviting you in."

He stopped short, looking at the gun in my hand, pointed dead center at his chest. His hands slowly went up and he slowly backed away.

"I see you again, Joseph," I said in a low voice, "I'm going to kill you. Now, take your whore with you and leave me alone."

They left, Susan looking back over her shoulder at me, probably wondering how I had become such a hard person. Look in the mirror, Susan, look in the mirror.

..... .....

That night, I brought home dinner for the two of us, Carol and me, and we ate like an old married couple, surprisingly so comfortable that for a moment I forgot that she had only been with me a few days. Maybe it was the aftermath of seeing my cheating ex-wife that did it, I don't know.

Avocat et Oeufs à la Mousse de Crabe, or Avocado and Eggs with Crab mousse, followed by fresh berries and cream... Just because it was a café didn't mean it served hamburgers all day long.

Prior to the no-fault divorce revolution, a divorce could be obtained only through a showing of fault of one of the parties in a marriage. This was something more than not loving one another; it meant that one spouse had to plead that the other had committed adultery, abandonment, felony, or other similarly culpable acts. However, the other spouse could plead a variety of defenses, like recrimination (essentially an accusation of "so did you"). A judge could find that the respondent had not committed the alleged act or the judge could accept the defense of recrimination and find both spouses at fault for the dysfunctional nature of their marriage.

Now, California had a simple, no-fault divorce situation in place and I intended to use it to her advantage, just as I had done for myself. It was going to make family re-unions quite interesting, though, sitting around the dinner table at Christmas.

..... .....

The next morning, I completed all the paperwork with the court and had her husband and his girlfriend served. I would have liked to have seen what the woman's face looked like when that had happened. I probably could have put it on YouTube and made a lot of money.

I returned to the café and worked on several pending lawsuits and two other divorces. The day dragged on. All I could think of was Carol waiting for me at the house. Was I falling for her? I definitely was infatuated, that was for sure. Susan's visit hadn't done anything to my frame of mind.

I had no appointments that day and I could have done the paperwork at the house but I wanted to put a little distance between Carol and myself, hating myself at the same time but not wanting to do anything I would later regret.

I spent an hour going through my emails, a lot from my former high school classmates. Most had done well in life, luckily, considering the economics of the day. One especially hard working guy had two full-time jobs and a side business selling comic books on the internet. He had just bought a Corvette so I guess Spiderman was paying well.

I called the house. "I'll be bringing home dinner in about an hour. What would you like?"

I could hear the pause on the line. "Whatever you want," Carol said. "I'm not picky."

I ordered a couple of rib-eyes to grill at home with baked potatoes, salad and vegetables, and two pieces of cherry pie ready to go.

Carol was much livelier at dinner that night even though I could see that she was still shy around me. She had set the table and was pouring some Chianti as I walked into the house with the food. She quickly took the three bags from me and I put my laptop away, resolving to leave it off for the rest of the evening.

I put the steaks on the grill that she had already started and sipped the wine while I watched them cook. Sometimes, life was good and I felt better than I had in a long time, idly wondering what life with her would be like if we somehow connected.

As I sat down fifteen minutes later, she lit two table candles and turned off the lights in the dining room. The mood immediately changed and I considered that she was interested in me, too.

"...and so, when he pulled down the chart, out popped the playboy foldout!"

I laughed at her story and wished that we had met in college, letting us both bypass our two horrible marriages. Life would have been so much easier, for me, at least.

"The best I can say is that I took a class on Shakespeare but I ended up dropping it. It was so boring."

"What do you like?" she asked, cutting a small piece from her rib-eye.

"Science fiction, mostly... and, romance novels."

She looked up at me, a smile crossing her face. "Romance novels?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Hey, I... well, I started reading them after my divorce, wondering if I could find out what I did wrong."

"What did you find out?" she asked. She put some sour cream on her potato and mixed it up a little with the butter.

"Nothing. Susan was foolish and paid the price for it. After I found out about her... her affair and the drugs she started taking, it was over."

"I'm sorry," she said, quietly. "Somehow, I didn't think... well, I hoped it wasn't your fault."

""Don't be. It would have happened sooner or later. She just... ah, the hell with it, let's talk about something else, OK?"

"Sure. Can you tell me anything about what you're doing?"

And so, the rest of the evening, I told her about my various cases, without naming names. Susan had never shown much interest in my work unless it was to find out how much my fee would be. The more I talked with Carol, the more I wondered what I had been thinking marrying Susan. I had been so much in love with her but it wasn't enough. Maybe counseling would have helped if what she had done had never happened.