Robert Whitlow - Deeper Water

"It's Taylor," I corrected, perhaps too abruptly.

"Sorry," he said. "Tami, right?"

"Yes sir."

We entered his office. It was about the same size as Mr. Callahan's office. Apparently, Mr. Carpenter liked boats, because the walls were covered with pictures of yachts.

"I've been on the phone with so many people this morning the names are running together."

He sat behind a large desk with a leather inlaid top and stared at me for several seconds without speaking. I shifted in my seat.

"You have a lovely office," I said.

His phone buzzed and he picked it up. "Put him through," he said after listening for a moment.

I started to get up, but he motioned for me to remain. The call involved a domestic relations case. Mr. Carpenter represented the husband who had filed for the divorce. I picked up that the man on the other end of the line was the lawyer for the wife. The main issue had to do with division of property.

"Our answers to your discovery set valuation of the marital estate at twenty-two million and change," Mr. Carpenter said. "I think we should be able to arrive at an amicable resolution. My letter of the fifteenth is a starting point, but there is room for discussion on several items."

Mr. Carpenter listened for a long time. I watched his jaw tighten and his lips turn downward.

"Bob, I don't think you want to go there," he said. "We can divide the pie, but if you try to throw it in my face, this will get messy."

It seemed like a silly comment, but the way Mr. Carpenter said it sounded ominous. He listened again, then spoke in a steely voice.

"If that's the way you want it, we'll litigate into the next decade. Have your paralegal call Myra Dean to set up the depositions." He paused. "And tell Mrs. Folsom my previous proposal is off the table. Our next offer will be less-a lot less."

He hung up the phone and looked at me.

"Welcome to Savannah," he said cheerily.

I gave him a startled look at his easy transition from threatening to friendly. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate the opportunity."

"Gerry tells me you're living with Margaret Fairmont. She's a gracious lady. Her husband was a great friend of Sam Braddock."

"Yes sir."

"And I have your resume somewhere in here."

The lawyer leafed through a short stack of papers on the corner of his desk.

"Have you met Vince and Julie?" he asked as he continued to search.

"Yes sir."

"And you already know Zach Mays?"

"Not really. I met him a few weeks ago when I stopped by the office on a Saturday. He's been very helpful in helping me acclimate to the firm."

"Good, good. Zach is an earnest young man who isn't afraid to ask hard questions. Here it is," Mr. Carpenter announced, holding up a sheet of paper.

I watched while he skimmed the one-page summary of my life.

"That's right. You worked for Oscar Callahan. It's the reason I pulled your resume out in the first place. Oscar gave you a glowing recommendation. If he'd stopped representing mill workers for petty injuries and crawled out of the mountains, he could have been one of the best litigators in the state."

"Yes sir," I said, not sure if agreeing with Mr. Carpenter would dishonor Mr. Callahan.

"His grandfather was a preacher, wasn't he?"

"Yes sir."

"If I recall, he was the leader of some kind of obscure religious sect that wanted to turn back the clock to the Dark Ages."

I swallowed, not sure if this was a time to defend the faith or accumulate more information.

"Is that what Mr. Callahan told you?"

"How else would I have picked up that bit of trivia?" Mr. Carpenter slapped his hands together. "Enough of that. Let's get down to business. Your summer at the firm will be a good mix of work and pleasure. I hope your experience will be intellectually stimulating. Law school prepares you to take tests, not practice law. We'll have plenty of projects that will involve research within your comfort zone, but there will also be practical opportunities to broaden your experience."

"Yes sir."

"I'm glad you had a chance to hear my side of the opening salvo in the Folsom divorce case. I don't handle many divorce cases, but our firm is deeply involved in J.K. Folsom's corporate dealings, and he doesn't want another law firm to know his business. J.K. pays our top hourly rate for representation. Using you to assist with research and deposition preparation, I can keep his bills lower."

My stomach went into a knot. I'd wanted to avoid domestic practice. Mr. Carpenter continued. "Have you taken a domestic relations course in law school?"

"No sir."

"That's not a problem. We'll see how fast you can get up to speed in an unfamiliar area. We have a couple of treatises in the law library. Read them to get a foundation and dive into the fray. Divorce work is exciting because the emotions of the parties run wild. It's key for the lawyer to keep her cool when others around her are losing theirs."

Even when talking to a summer associate, I could tell Mr. Carpenter utilized dramatic pauses.

"Sounds like Kipling," I managed, remembering a poem I'd memorized in homeschool.

Mr. Carpenter nodded approvingly. "Yes, it does."

He buzzed his secretary and gave her instructions about giving me access to the file. He stood up, signaling an end to our meeting.

"I'll see you at the luncheon. Until then, the library is your home."

The secretary spoke as I passed her desk. "I'll have a packet on the Folsom case ready for you by early afternoon," she said. "In the meantime, the case number is 207642."

"Thank you," I replied without much feeling. "Where is the firm library?"

"On this floor at the west end of the building."

Not being able to see the sun in the hallway, I wasn't sure which way to turn, but I guessed the opposite end from Mr. Braddocks office. I didn't want to walk unannounced into another lawyer's office. When I cracked open a wooden door and peeked inside I saw bookshelves. Sitting at a table with papers spread out before her was Julie Feldman.

"Are you alone?" I whispered.

"Not now."

I sat down on the opposite side of the table. Even with the advent of computer research, the firm still maintained an extensive library of books. Several computer terminals for online use were in a row along one wall.

"How's it going?"

"I'm shuffling papers and trying to understand what they say." She looked up. "I haven't taken a course in secured transactions. I know a few terms but none of the principles. I'm completely lost."

"I loved my secured transactions course. It was taught by one of the best professors at the law school, and I enjoyed figuring out the different rules. But Mr. Carpenter has assigned me to a big divorce case. I've not taken a domestic relations course, and the only thing I know about divorce is that God doesn't like it."

Julie's eyes opened wide. "That's unreal. I spent last semester doing research for one of the best divorce lawyers in Atlanta. She handles a lot of high-profile breakups and knows all the tricks of the trade. Reading her files was more interesting than most of the novels my mother keeps on the nightstand in her bedroom."

The irony of our predicament made me smile.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Julie asked.

"What? That we're both being pushed out of our comfort zones?"

"No. We should switch projects."

I shook my head. "Mr. Carpenter knows I haven't studied domestic relations. He wants to see how quickly I can learn a new area. It's part of the summer experience."

"But we could help each other."

Julie's suggestion surprised me. Law school was competitive, and a summer clerk opportunity raised the competition to a higher level because a job, not just a grade, was at stake. Even if we didn't talk about it, I'd expected jockeying for a permanent job to affect all my interaction with Julie Feldman and Vince Colbert.