Page 11 of Consultation with Dad's Best Friend
Mike
I’m reviewing a case before my initial meeting with a client. The guy is in his fifties and has two kids in the current marriage. The reason for divorce is the wife’s love affair with a younger man. Shit. I feel sorry for the guy already, although I shouldn’t because I don’t know the whole story.
When I’m ready, I let my secretary bring the client in. He looks distraught. Well, I don’t ever expect to see a happy client, but this is extreme. The guy looks as if I’m the reason he’s filing a divorce.
“Have a seat, Mr. Powell. How are you doing?”
He huffs. “What do you expect me to say? I’m doing just fine, except my wife has just decided she’s tired of me?”
Shit. The sympathy I have for him vanishes without a trace. The man is an idiot. That explains why his wife cheated on him.
Nonetheless, I keep my judgement in check and start the consultation. I review the various divorce processes available to him, including collaboration, mediation and litigation and describe the pros and cons of each option to him.
When I ask him which option he prefers, he grunts. “It doesn’t fucking matter. All I want is for the bitch to be out of my life ASAP!”
“Then you’ll opt for the mediation process. It’s the fastest and cheapest. In fact, you don’t even need an attorney. You can find a mutual friend or a family member as the mediator.”
He thinks for a moment. “Nah. It’s better to have a professional to do it.”
“Okay, but perhaps you should discuss it with your wife first.”
“That won’t be possible because I don’t plan to ever speak to her again.”
“You’ll have to, though, if you want to complete the legal process.”
“Fuck. Then what on earth am I hiring a lawyer for?”
What a shithead. I curse inwardly. “I can guide you through the process, but it doesn’t mean I’ll do everything for you.”
He curses again, and then he stands up. “Fine. I’ll talk to the bitch.”
“Good,” I say. “And let me know if you need me to recommend you a mediator.”
He pushes the chair towards the desk before he walks away, and he’s so angry his thumb gets sandwiched in between the chair and the desk, and he yelps. “Motherfucker!”
“Are you okay?” I ask, genuinely concerned because the tears gush down his cheek. Shit. It’s the first time anyone gets injured in my office. Even though it’s clearly not my fault, I’m still wary of potential lawsuits.
“I’m fine,” he says, and then he falls into an uncontrollable sob.
Now, it’s not the first time anyone cries in my office. Not at all. So I’m used to the sight. I know it isn’t because of the thumb but something else, so I pat on his back. “I’m sorry, man.”
He sobs harder. “You don’t understand. I love her. I’ve loved her since high school. She’s my whole life. I won’t fight for anything. She’ll get whatever she wants. But I don’t want to lose her!”
Shit. All that anger is because of love. “Perhaps if you speak to her, you can avoid the divorce altogether, you know?”
“But she cheated on me!”
“Why did she do it?” It’s really not my job, but I ask.
“I don’t fucking know,” he says. “I thought everything was going well…”
“Well, if you wish, I can refer you to a family psychologist.” It’s something I haven’t done for a while, but what the heck.
“Sure.” He nods.
After the client is gone, I let out a breath of relief. It looks like I let go of an easy case, but I could save a marriage. It was something I always did when I first became a lawyer. Later on, I didn’t bother with it anymore. But I guess Kitty influenced me with our conversation the other day.
The thought of Kitty distracts me. I miss the little girl. I’ve been avoiding her for days already. I’m a terrible host, but what can I do? If I let myself near her, I’ll do unspeakable things to her.
