Seasons of the Heart (16 page)

Kenny was speechless. This was the last thing he had expected or wanted. The Coulter family wasn’t his responsibility, for God’s sake! And his law firm wasn’t in business for charity. A few bucks were one thing, but taking on an albatross was quite another.

He sat back, no longer seeing Ann’s white, pleading face, but Phillip’s, the last time Kenny had seen him. Thinking back, Kenny wondered if Phillip’s weakness hadn’t been there all along. He remembered his inability to adjust after the Coulters had lost their money in the Crash.

If he took Phillip into the firm with him, God only knew what might happen. Theirs was a trial firm, with a reputation for aggressiveness, and Phillip was certainly in no shape to go into a courtroom or even to meet clients, for that matter.

Suddenly Kenny’s conscience smote him. He knew he was being unjust. Phillip had been a POW. He had been starved and tortured. And, unlike Kenny, he had not returned to a comfortable niche in a family business.
For God’s sake
, Kenny decided,
Phil is my best friend. Don’t I owe him a chance when he’s down and out?

There should be things he could do competently even now. He was intelligent. He could research briefs and draft motions, and if he studied up he really couldn’t do the firm any harm. It would be nothing more than a lowly clerkship. If he had any pride he would probably tell Kenny no, but in Phil’s present condition, he could hardly expect anything better.

Kenny patted Ann’s hand and said, “If you think he might want to come in with us, I’ll certainly speak to him.”

“Oh, thank you!” Ann cried, relief flooding through her. Then she bit her lip. “Kenny, please don’t mention to Phillip that I suggested it to you.” She paused, then continued awkwardly, “I suppose you think I’m disloyal, going behind Phillip’s back like this….”

“I think you’re a good wife, Ann. Phil is luckier than he knows to have you. I’ll call him tomorrow.”

“Oh, Kenny. I just can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Ann. Let’s see what Phil thinks about this.”

S
ITTING ACROSS FROM KENNY
at Schroeder’s, Phillip felt uncomfortably out of place. His friend looked so prosperous and self-assured; Phillip was miserably conscious of his ill-fitting suit, cheap tie, and scarred cheek.

Kenny broke the silence. “How’s that drink holding up?”

Phillip, startled, asked, “What?”

“Another martini?”

“Sure, don’t mind if I do.”

When the drinks came, Kenny said, “What do you feel like eating?”

Past echoes rang eerily through Phillip’s head. I don’t know—
what do you want? I don’t know much about Chinese food. His and Ann’s first date …

“Phil? You still there?”

Phillip looked at him blankly. “Oh … Whatever you’re having, Kenny.”

“What else?
Sauerbraten
and
Schnitzel
and
Wein—ja
?”

“Jawohl!”
Phillip tried to join in the joke.

If the rest of the world had changed, Schroeder’s had not. The dark, wood-paneled dining room with the huge brass-railed bar was exactly the same as the last time Phillip had seen it some six years earlier. He actually found himself relaxing and enjoying the delicious meal.

It was only as the waiter brought their coffee that Kenny made his offer.

Phillip set his cup down abruptly and stared at his friend. On the one hand, the job was a godsend. No need to pound the streets, no need to endure nerve-racking interviews. On the other hand, it was galling—a lifeline thrown to a miserable slob who couldn’t make it on his own.

Phillip felt a spurt of anger that fate had placed Kenny in a position to act as benefactor and himself in the role of supplicant. Kenny’s father had been in practice in San Francisco for almost fifty years and had built a thriving practice. All Kenny had had to do was show up the day after graduation and be escorted to a plush office with his name newly lettered on the door. Nathan Newman hadn’t squandered Kenny’s future the way Simon had ruined Phillip’s chances. It wasn’t just.

Then Phillip reminded himself that he was being unreasonable. Kenny was doing him a favor. The real question he had to face was whether he could handle the stress of any job, let alone a legal practice. The thought of trying and failing terrified him, especially under Kenny’s eyes. But how could he say no?

“You really need my help?”

Kenny chose his words carefully. “We always need a good researcher, and right now we especially need someone good in pretrial procedure. I remember you were the best in the class at that back at Boalt.”

“That was a long time ago, Kenny.”

“It’ll come back to you, Phil. Come on, how about it?”

Phillip lit a cigarette. “Okay. We’ll give it a whirl.”

Kenny smiled. “Good man!”

Phillip looked at him, and for a moment it was as if the years since law school had never passed. With real confidence, he set his starting date and started off toward home. He could do it! Given this opportunity with a good law firm, he could be a success! He would be able to give Ann everything she wanted; he would recapture the enthusiasm and energy he had felt when he had first married her.

As Phillip turned at Union Square, he glimpsed his reflection in a shop window and was momentarily taken aback. What a sight he was in his shabby suit with its baggy prewar cut! Across the square was Bullock and Jones. It was an expensive men’s store, but why not? He had a job, didn’t he? The time had come to start living like a human being once again.

Before he could lose his nerve, he walked inside. Turning to the racks of fine worsteds with an unconsciously professional air, he quickly made a selection and, before he knew it, he was in front of a three-way mirror in an impeccable three-piece gray flannel suit. He straightened his shoulders and instantly the suit fell into line: no need even for a tailor. He didn’t look bad at all, did he? In the well-cut suit, his thinness became an asset.

“I’ll take it,” he announced, suddenly decisive. “And six white button-down shirts.”

By the time he was through, he had acquired not only a navy rep tie and a discreet burgundy silk, but a pair of polished black calf wing-tips.

“I’ll need to set up a charge account.” After giving his home address, he listed his business with a touch of pride: Newman, Ross, Simons, and Newman.

As Ann heard the key in the front door, she hurried from the kitchen, stripping off her apron and smoothing her hair.

“Phillip …” She stopped trying to hide her surprise. “You’ve gotten some new clothes, sweetheart. How wonderful!”

“Ann, you’ll never guess. Kenny has offered me a position. I start work on Monday.”

“And you’ve accepted. Oh, Phillip, I’m so happy for you!”

They flew into each other’s arms and hugged each other tightly.

Kissing her, he whispered, “Ann, darling, I love you so. You’ve been so patient with me. Now everything will be fine, I promise.”

Laughing, crying, Ann hugged him again. “Sweetheart, I
know
you’ll be great.”

“You know, I was a bit surprised. Kenny hadn’t given any hint he was thinking of hiring me before today.”

“He was probably waiting for you to get your strength back,” Ann said quickly.

“I suppose that was it,” Phillip agreed, a trifle doubtfully.

“Well, I always knew you were a genius, Phillip, and I guess Kenny knows it too….”

That night, when for the first time since his return, Phillip was able to make love to her, she was certain they were embarking on a bright new future.

W
HEN PHILLIP LOOKED AT
his wife pouring out his coffee the next morning, he knew that he could conquer the world with one hand tied behind his back. The feeling of euphoria sustained him all the way to the office. Even the elegance of the Mills Building on Montgomery Street, in the heart of San Francisco’s financial district, failed to shake his self-confidence.

It was only when he actually stood in front of the huge, gleaming wood door of the fifth floor office that he began to tremble slightly. Taking a handkerchief from his back pocket, he wiped his forehead. His newly born confidence was replaced by the familiar terrible feelings of inadequacy. But he had come too far to back down now.

He took a deep breath and opened the door. The receptionist seemed startled by his appearance.
It’s the scar,
Phillip thought without emotion.
That’s just something I’ve got to get used to.

“Good morning,” he said evenly. “My name is Phillip Coulter.”

Unexpectedly, she smiled. “Mr. Coulter—how nice to meet you. Mr. Newman is expecting you.”

Rising from her desk, she escorted him down the hall to Kenny’s luxurious office. His friend was talking on the phone.

“They’ll settle for fifty thousand. We’ve snowed ’em with so much paper, they don’t know what hit ’em … they won’t be able to afford to keep fighting us.”

As Phillip waited, the thought flashed into his head that this was all for his benefit. Kenny could put his caller on hold for a moment, couldn’t he? But then he decided there was no reason Kenny should play wheeler-dealer for him. A moment later Kenny said, “Got to go now. Speak to you later.” He hung up, a broad smile on his face. “Phil! Sorry to keep you waiting, old buddy. I was talking to Sam Levy. You’ll meet him one of these days. We’ve got a settlement cooking on a big case.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Well—welcome aboard! Come on, I want you to meet the rest of the gang. We’ve got a conference in five minutes you can sit in on.”

At first Phillip felt ill at ease, sitting at the big oval conference table, but after a while the arguments began to make sense and he became absorbed in the pretrial planning.

As the conference broke up, the other lawyers briefly greeted him. One of them said, “So you’re the new clerk, eh? Don’t let them work you to death.”

Phillip felt a burning sense of humiliation. With all his experience, he was coming in as a beginner. Kenny hadn’t spelled it out, but Phillip had assumed that he was being hired as an associate. Now he realized that he and Kenny hadn’t even discussed salary, let alone his title. Well, he was sure Kenny hadn’t intended a slight. Perhaps within a few months, if he did well, he would be given some trial work.

His next shock was his office. After Kenny’s, with its paneled walls and plush red carpeting, Phillip had expected that his own, though smaller, would be attractive. Instead, he was shown to a dingy cubbyhole with a linoleum floor.

He did his best to keep his face impassive as Kenny said, “The library is down the hall. Do you work on a typewriter?” At Phillip’s nod, he continued. “We’ll try to get you one. Meanwhile, I’m sure our other clerk will share with you.” He paused. “Do you have any other questions?”

“No.”

“Good.” Kenny clapped him on the back. “It will be great having you here.”

Phillip sank into the desk chair and lit a cigarette, trying not to let the small space make him feel claustrophobic. He knew he was going to have to control his resentment, but for the moment he wondered how he could endure such humiliation. Who was Kenny to lord it over him?

Phillip tried to remind himself that he was lucky to have a job at all. Two days ago, he was unemployed, almost unable to leave his house. Face it, Phil
—you were floundering and Kenny gave you a break.

He began to leaf through the file on his desk. His eye caught a novel procedural motion and he soon found his old interest in civil procedure reawakening.

Before he knew it, the secretary was rapping on the door, asking if he wanted a sandwich sent in. Phillip looked at his watch and realized with a start that it was long past lunch.

“Pastrami on rye if you don’t mind, Nancy.” He smiled. “I’m just going to work straight through today.”

By five o’clock, Phillip was certain the job would work out. It was good to put his legal training to use again. He could become a success. He knew he could.

That evening, as Ann listened to Phillip’s account of his first day, she decided she would never doubt God’s mercy again.

As time passed, he became more assured. He turned out briefs, memos, and motions, always carefully researched and written, always on time. Often, he worked late in order to finish some project, and Ann became accustomed to hearing the phone ring at five minutes to six. She would pretend to be disappointed, but in reality she rejoiced at this evidence of Phillip’s determination. He was bound to get ahead, working at this rate. So far, he earned a pittance, but they could manage for the time being, especially if he received a raise in the near future. Perhaps they could move to a bigger apartment, maybe a new dress or two for herself….

Phillip himself felt more and more confident with every assignment he completed. His moments of panic and self-doubt came less and less frequently, and he was certain that he would soon be ready for trial work. In fact, he was less nervous now about appearing in court than he had been before the war. After facing the likes of Nakanishi and Oto, a mere judge and jury held little terror for him.

I
N THE MONTHS THAT
followed, Phillip was in his office promptly at nine every morning. At first, he was busy catching up on new laws and concepts, but one day, after he had been with the firm for some ten months, he broached the subject with Kenny.

“You think that you’re ready to go into court?” Kenny’s tone held disbelief.

“I think I am,” Phillip said as firmly as he could.

Kenny hesitated, then spoke with care. “Phil, listen. You’re my buddy and I hate to be the one to say this to you. Less than a year ago, you were an emotional basket case. I just can’t believe that in less than a year you’ve recovered enough to face a jury. That’s a hell of a lot tougher than just grinding out paperwork.”

“I think I can handle it, Kenny.”

Kenny stared hard at him, his expression sober and concerned. Finally he spoke. “I think we’d better give it a little more time, Phil. You’ve got plenty to keep you busy right now, don’t you?”