The Best Laid Plans

"The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry." (Robert Burns)

This is the story of Patrick Murphy, who found his soul mate and planned to live happily ever after.

This is also about Margaret Murphy, who grew angry and bitter when she lost the man she loved to his work, and who planned revenge and a life of wealth and luxury.

Then there was a plan to reconcile.

In the end, there was no plan at all.

I was ready.

This evening, I was making my last appeal to the managing partner, Henry Potter. I had been the biggest revenue generator in the firm for the last three years. Last year, I had been considered for partner and had been blackballed by Potter. Last week I had been considered again and had been blackballed by Potter again.

In the past year, Potter assigned me to work a variety of minor cases, while still maintaining a full load of litigation. I was carrying two gallons of water in a one-gallon bucket. I was working 14 to 16 hours a day. I didn't close as many of my big cases as the year before, yet somehow I was still the largest revenue maker in the firm. And I still didn't make partner.

Last week when I came up again for partner, Clarence Goodbody, the chairman of our board of directors, put Potter on the spot, insisting Potter justify his veto. As Chairman of the Board and senior to Potter, Potter knew not to openly oppose him.

Even though the meeting was closed to all but partners, the word still got out. Potter's stumbling explanation of his veto was that I didn't have the social skills, the leadership skills, the "essence of a gentleman" to be a partner, and never would. I was and would always be just a peasant, low life scum. I was a success only because I could connect with a jury of idiots. I could never be a dependable rainmaker, bringing in the big name clients.

I had been with the firm for 15 years. I had paid my dues. I had put in the hours, especially in the last year. And it cost me. My family had become strangers to me.

So tonight, I would demand that Potter either withdraw his no vote, or I'd quit.

Before scheduling this meeting, I had shopped around. My blackballing was the gossip of our town's legal community. I had three job offers from three sterling firms within the week. Two of the offers included partnerships. I had discussed details with each of these firms. The least of them would increase my income substantially. If I jumped ship, I was going to have a soft landing.

As I took the stairs up to the next floor, I thought about the years I had known Potter. In the beginning he was always pleasant to me. At office functions, he would always come over and sit at my table and spend time with my wife and me. I often thought I was a favorite. But in the past year or so a coldness entered our relationship. He'd rarely acknowledge my existence except to send me his shitty cases. At social events I was ignored. He'd smile at my wife but ignore me. Somehow, I had become invisible.

And it had taken its toll. I was neglecting my family, especially my wife, Margaret. On the rare times I'd have a little free time, I would try to make it up to her. A date night. A weekend escape. When she'd agree, there was no passion, no warmth in our time together. I told her that once the partnership came through, things would be different. But we continued to drift apart. After a while, she refused requests for date nights. It was even worse with my two children. Liam was now a Junior at College and Colleen had just started college a few weeks ago. I had missed both her high school graduation and all her college tours.

Potter's administrative assistant's intercom buzzed, she turned to me and said he was ready for me to go in. I was armed and ready to go for my confrontation. I got up, confident and ready to either make partner or walk out, knowing either way I would be in a better place than I was right now. A sense of freedom filled me as I walked into Potters oversized office.

Potter was behind his desk, balding, with a paunch, his 70 years well lined in a face worn by years. But for all of that, he could be a charming fellow, charming at least to everyone but me.

As I approached his desk in his large office, he held his hand up to stop me and said, "before you say anything Murphy, Maggie is leaving you and she and I are going to be married." He then pointed to the far corner of his office, and I turned and there was my wife, Margaret, standing with Bert, our security guy. Margaret looked at me, then fixed her eyes on Potter. Bert, who I counted as a friend, looked deeply embarrassed.

It took me a moment to connect what Potter had just said to Margaret. My heart was pounding. I started breathing hard. I reached out and grabbed the chair in front of Potter's desk to steady myself. My legs began to feel like rubber.

"Margaret, what's he talking about?" I finally managed to say. Margaret said nothing.

Potter spoke, "Maggie, come over here and stand by me." Margaret walked over to behind Potter's desk and stood next him. Bert accompanied her. It was clear that Bert's role was to protect Margaret and Potter from me.

Potter then told Maggie to give him a kiss. She bent over and gave him a kiss on the mouth. It was a short kiss, but it hit the target. My heart was breaking.

Potter then continued speaking, "Maggie and I have been seeing each other for over a year now. You were so obsessed with making partner, you didn't even notice that you had lost your wife."

"Anyway, Murphy, you see we have a bit of a problem. To avoid any awkwardness in the office, you need to withdraw from the firm. You have no future here. I have here a proposed severance package. Probably better than you deserve, but the firm doesn't need any untidiness over any of this, so there won't be any problem getting it approved." He held the file out to me, but my eyes were on Margaret, and I made no effort to pick it up.

"If you don't sign it, you'll be fired, so give it a look."

"Also, Maggie and I have prepared a very generous Settlement Agreement for your divorce. We want to get married as soon as possible, so we are asking you sign it and return in the next two weeks or it will be withdrawn. You'll probably be served with the divorce papers next week."

As my attention had been focused only on Margaret, Potter added with some impatience, "do you understand what I'm saying, Murph?"

I repeated my question, "Margaret, what is he talking about? Talk to me sweetheart, what is happening." She ignored me.

Potter then started talking about the details of both packages. He droned on.

"Margaret, do the children know?" I asked.

Margaret finally answered me, "Colleen suspects, but doesn't know. Liam doesn't know unless Colleen has talked to him about it."

"Should I tell them tonight or would you rather tell them?" I asked.

"You do it."

Potter interrupted, "Maggie, let me do the talking."

"Why do you let him call you that, you hated that name?" I asked.

She didn't answer, breaking the eye contact we had. I waited for her to answer, my eyes on her. Potter continued to drone on about the terms of my severance package. Then I said, "fuck this, this is just too damn painful." I picked up the two packets, turned around and headed off, never acknowledging Potter's existence. Bert followed me out.

Once in the reception room, I gave out a big sigh. Behind me Bert shut the door to Potter's office. I turned to Bert and said, "Bert, I need a minute, let me sit down." Bert walked me to a chair and sat next to me, his hand on my shoulder. I leaned forward and put my hands over my eyes.

Potter came out of the office, and yelled at Bert, "You were suppose to walk him out of the building, why the fuck is he still in my office?

"Damn't it man, give the guy a break, what you just did was cruel and cold blooded and this poor guy is badly shaken." Bert was a retired Army MP, no one had ever heard him talk back to any of the lawyers in the firm, let alone the managing partner, and never in such a loud and angry tone.

"Mr. Earnst," Potter said, referring to Bert, "if you value your job, you will do as you were told." Potter was almost yelling.

At that point, Clarence Goodbody rushed in from his adjoining office. The whole hall was now hearing what was being said. "What the hell is going on in here?"

"Sir, this is a private matter." said Potter.

"To hell it is" responded Bert, "Potter here just fired Murph because he is fucking Murph's wife."

At that point, I looked up. I saw Potter standing in the doorway to his office with Margaret standing behind him.

Goodbody looked at Bert and I and said, "You two, in my office. Potter, you stay here until I call you. Then looking at Potter's admin assistant said, "Molly, you stay here too." Then looking at Margaret he added, "Mrs. Murphy, I would like to hear from you about what this is all about, but of course, you don't have to talk to me."

In his office, Goodbody asked the very specific questions he needed to paint the picture of what was happening. After only about 15 minutes he had what he needed. He then told Bert to take me home and stay with me as long as necessary; he added that I didn't look well. He then told me that he was deeply sorry about my marriage, that there was nothing he could do about that, but he asked me to give him a week, that maybe he could make things a bit more tolerable about my position in the firm. I said I doubt he could so long as Potter was here. His response: "give me a week."

Bert took me home in his own car. The house was still. I opened a bottle of Scotch and Bert and I had a drink together. We talked only a little about small stuff, not what had happened, until I noticed a lot of stuff in the house was missing. No furniture was missing, just pictures of the kids and of Margaret, some Knick-Knacks, etc. That hit me. Bert finished his drink, and I rushed him off, telling him I needed to call my kids. He told me to call him if I needed to talk and that he would be by to pick me up in the morning for the meeting.

The call to the kids forced me to relive the thing all over again. My daughter and I cried. She acknowledged that she was very worried about what Mom was up to because of the long and frequent errands she would run and the occasional night outs with some friends. These nights were too often and she would dress up too much for it be just causal things.

My son dealt with it mostly by being silent. He said he never suspected anything, but as he was away at college most of the time, he was mostly out of the loop on that stuff. He also asked me if I had any suspicions before tonight, and I told him I did not. "Geez, dad, this is really shitty news" was his summary of these events. A poet could not have painted a more accurate picture.

Afterwards, I was emotionally exhausted and I fell asleep on the couch. I woke up again at 3 am. Not being able to go back to sleep, I wandered about my house, now seemingly larger and empty. I again noticed many of the photographs that used to hang on the wall were now missing, all of them of the kids or her and the kids. Any picture of me was still there, a relic of her life that she had moved on from.

All evidence of her presence in our bedroom had been removed. No clothes, no jewelry box, no photographs, no makeup, nothing of hers was left. She must have spent days clearing out.

With daylight came Bert. He wanted to check up on me and make sure I was alright. He was genuinely concerned. I took him out for breakfast and I updated him with the kids.

I called in Monday for the day off. I signed the Settlement Agreement. Margaret had waived any claim to our marital assets provided it was signed within 15 days. I had no illusions about saving the marriage. I hired an attorney, a friend of mine who did divorce work. The divorce petition was filed that day together with the Settlement Agreement and was served the next day.

I had no delusions about my future with the firm. Potter's grandfather founded the firm. His roots ran deep. And his inherited wealth exceeded all other partners twice over. He moved in lucrative circles, a genuine rainmaker.

On Tuesday, I went to work and started assigning the smaller cases Potter had given me to junior litigators, and sent memos to Potter setting out my recommendations. He responded that he was glad to see me come to my senses. Later that day, he sent an email telling me that "Maggie" had been served, and that he was glad to see things moving on. I ignored both emails.

On Thursday, I got an email from the Chairman, Mr. Goodbody, asking that I make myself available to the directors Friday morning, as an inquiry was being made into events of last week. There was also gossip that an emergency meeting of the partners was scheduled immediately following the directors meeting.

The directors meeting started at 9 exactly. Bert had also been summoned, and he and I sat outside the conference room, as did Molly, Potters receptionist. I was asked in first, and questions focused on what happened on Friday last, especially whether Potter was going to fire me and why. I handed the severance package and told everyone that Potter was making it clear I had no future at the firm, and if I didn't agree to the severance package, then I would be fired.

Potter was present and was given an opportunity to ask questions. Potter was never much of a trial lawyer, and while he tried to conduct a cross examination of me, he failed miserably. His questions were opened ended, which just gave me the chance answer at length and restate the points I was trying to make.

I was excused from the room, and Bert was sent in to testify. For twenty minutes there was silence, until I heard Bert say in his booming voice, "I don't think I have ever seen anything in this office so mean spirited as your performance last week, and its sole objective was to humiliate a human being you had already wronged. I know if you get your way, I'll be fired. But frankly, that is the lesser evil if staying in this job means working for such a depraved individual as you." Shortly after that, Bert walked out of the room and sat next to me.

Bert said, "damn, I got to give Potter hell, and that felt good." Molly smiled at that. The only expression any of us had seen from her since all this business began.

Molly was in and out in 30 minutes.

Then a door opened down the hall at Potter's office and Margaret walked out. She was staring straight ahead. She walked directly to the conference room, opened the door and walked in, avoiding looking at me at all. When she came out 15 minutes later, we could see tear stains on her face. She looked at me, and said, "Patrick, you ruined everything..." she then stopped, shook her head and blinked away the gathering tears, then walked away.

Half an hour later, Potter burst out of the room and his face red as a fire engine. Twenty minutes later the meeting broke up. Mr. Goodbody came up to me, told me that Potter had been suspended for misconduct with a recommendation to the full partnership that he be fired. Also, outside counsel would be hired to sue him for breach of his fiduciary responsibilities to the partnership with the goal of clawing back his shares in the partnership, and seeking a money judgment for the money he cost the firm.

I asked Goodbody what money he cost the firm, and he said, "why, hell, son, by dumping all those shitty little cases on you, you weren't able to score on all those lucrative cases you had to put on hold."

Things moved quickly after that. That afternoon, all the partners met and voted unanimously to terminate Potter from his managing partner position, without a severance package, and to suspend his partnership rights status. The partners approved hiring outside counsel to file suit for breach of contract and breach of his fiduciary responsibilities to the firm.

That night, I got a call from Margaret's sister, June. The hospital had called and Margaret had been admitted. June said she had a concussion and had been beat up pretty bad. She told me that Margaret was crying and was calling for me. She told me that that hospital staff had Potter escorted off the premises once it had become clear that Margaret had been beaten by Potter and had not fallen down the stairs as Potter insisted.

June asked if I could come over. I said, "be right there" and rushed over.

June met me outside of Margaret's room. She told me that she was asleep and then walked me over to her bedside.

Margaret was a mess. She was badly bruised all over her face and her exposed arms. June whispered that she had been admitted for observation because of the concussion. June then told me the cops had not interviewed her yet because of her concussion, but they had taken pictures of the bruises and other injuries.

No bones were broken, June told me, but she did have several cracked ribs. After talking to June about Margaret injuries, I asked how much she knew as to what was going on. She told me she only learned of the affair early last week when Margaret told her that she was going to ask for a divorce, and that she had found a charming fellow who had plenty of money and who adored her. She was going to move in with him once she told me.

"I guess this fellow wasn't so charming after all?" I said to June.

"I guess not." She responded.

I asked her if she had been updated with what happened last week. She hadn't. I filled her in, including the fact her boyfriend was my boss and that she and her boyfriend were going to have me fired so that it wouldn't be awkward for them. June said she wasn't told that, and that was horrible. I then explained their plan backfired on them, and when the board found out about it, the board fired Potter.

"So that explains his sudden change of disposition."

"Yeah, it kind of does."

After a bit more conversation, I told June to go home, that I would sit with Margaret.

"Really? Considering what she has done to you?" June asked.

"Yeah, well she is a shitty wife, but she is still the mother of my kids."

June leaned forward, kissed me on the cheek, and said, "You're a far better man than you know, Patrick Murphy." And with that she left.

I went back into the room, sat down in a chair in a far corner of her room, and after a while I fell asleep sitting there. I was woken several times by nurses checking on Margaret, but she never noticed me in the darken corner.

As the morning began to shine outside the window, a female voice calling my name woke me.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

Shaking the sleep out of my head, I opened my eyes and saw my bruised wife looking at me with a small smile.

"Good morning, Margaret." I replied.

"Not so good, but a lot better than last night. So what are you doing here?"

I thought June should go home, so I promised to stay with you. If you want, I will call her and get out of your hair. I'll just wait in the hall until she arrives."

"No. I don't want that. Can we talk? Please stay."

"I can stay, but I don't think I can handle another talking to."

"No, no, not like that. I am sorry about that. That was Henry."

"Let's not talk about this now. Let's breathe a little and figure out what the next few days will look like."

"Yeah, okay. Maybe that's better."

Changing the subject, I asked, "so what are you plans now, are you going back to Potter?"

"No. Yesterday was just horrible. I...I am afraid of that man. I thought he was going to kill me."

Then after a pause, she continued, "I don't know where I am going." She looked at me for a moment and asked, "would you consider letting me come home? At least for a while."

"Well, that's a whole different conversation. What happened last week was devastating. You betrayed me. I have loved for you for the past 25 years and I now have nothing to show for, except my two children. I am no longer in love with you. You annihilated that when you stood with your boyfriend as he humiliated me. So understand your asking to stay even for only a few nights is a big ask."