Chapter 14

Mairin got up very tired the next morning. She had studied fairly late. She put on a long robe, splashed some water on her face and went into the kitchen. Harry was sitting with a mug of coffee in one hand and the sports section in the other. Bea was making some kind of salad for later in the day.

"You were up pretty late, Mair," said Harry.

"Only one-thirty or so," she answered, sitting down and looking for the comics.

"How long is this session today going to last?"

"I really don’t know. Remember, I’ve never been to a deposition." Mairin had gotten up to heat the water for more tea.

"Lord, I hope he goes easy." Harry had vowed not to comment on the case but sometimes couldn’t help it.

Mairin ignored him, busily reading the comics. "Oh, Harry, this one is so funny." She was really laughing as she handed it to him. He loved seeing her like that. He had said to Bea once that Mairin’s face always looked softer and gentler in the morning than it looked after she had gotten involved in the day and was tired and sometimes a little angry. She was beautiful. It was that simple. He said it as though he would say that her robe was bright green or that Bea was making a salad. It was a fact. Her black hair was tousled and curly around her face, giving her a very childlike look.

When she came home that evening around suppertime, she still had the tousled look but her face was very tired. She sank down into the big, blue chair and kicked off her shoes.

"How did it go?" asked Harry.

"It was absolutely exhausting," said Mairin.

"It must have been, to have lasted this long."

"Oh, no, it was over around three, but Michael and Sandra and I talked for a while."

"Quite a while," said Harry.

"Did you have anything to eat?" asked Bea, coming in from the kitchen.

"Michael and I got a hamburger on the way home," Mairin said.

"Well, tell me about it," said Harry.

"Oh, it was thorough. Michael went over everything. I don’t think Sally Ewing had a very good time. I almost felt sorry for her. She had a strange, far-away look on her face." She sighed. "I suppose that Sandra will have to go through something like that herself."

"Maybe not. Jeffries may be smart enough to treat her easy. No one wants to be accused of browbeating a blind person."

Mairin sat staring into space. "It’s hard," she said.

"What's hard?" asked Harry.

"I don’t know," said Mairin. She got up. "I’m so tired," she said. "I’m going to take a small nap." But she didn’t sleep. She thought of the deposition and the tension and the hostility. Most of all, she thought of the hostility. Michael hadn’t noticed how it affected her.

There was a large conference room at Michael’s firm that was always used for depositions. It was fairly imposing, well-decorated, with a huge table. Ben Wilder, the court reporter, occupied one end of the table. On one side were Sandra, looking extremely composed, Mairin, feeling exceptionally tense, and Michael. On the other side were Sally Ewing and Bob Jeffries.

Sally Ewing looked confident and aloof. I wonder if wearing $500 worth of clothes helps one look confident, Mairin had wondered. She also wondered whether "aloof" was actually "scared stiff." At any rate, the effect was that of someone stating that all this was ‘way beneath her.’

Bob Jeffries had the same disdainful look he’d had at the board meeting. He probably had $500 worth of suit on, too. He did display a little warmth, though, to defrost Sally Ewing. As they’d come in, he’d joked over Holly’s tail protruding from under the table. Sandra didn’t always take her guide dog if there was a great deal of difficult indoor travelling. She used her cane then, or took someone’s arm. Mairin felt sure that Holly was here as a living, furry security blanket.

Michael’s secretary settled everyone in and got coffee or tea for them. Michael and Bob greeted each other warmly, shook hands, passed the time joking about local court politics. How can they be so congenial, wondered Mairin.

And then Michael said, "Well, we’re all equipped with sustenance; shall we begin?"

"Fine, counselor," said Bob.

Michael flashed a brilliant smile at Mrs. Ewing. Ben swore her in, and Michael began asking information for the record. Name, address, phone number, family. Mairin could see that these questions relaxed Sally Ewing somewhat. Michael asked her about her background--Vassar, career--raising a family, thank you, and other pursuits--all social.

Then he came to Evergreen House. "You are currently the president of the board of trustees of Evergreen House?"

"I am."

"And how long have you held that office?"

"It is a one-year renewable term. My second term began last July."

"Were you on the board prior to that or affiliated with the organiration?"

"Well, I’ve always been interested in the mentally retarded. About five years ago I began to volunteer for Evergreen House. I drove residents to appointments, I ran household errands, oh, I just did anything that was helpful."

Lady Bountiful, thought Mairin.

"Who was the director at that time?"

"Ardis Buell,"

"Who was she?"

"She was a young graduate of Smith, so involved in social welfare. She was a lovely person."

"What were her duties?"

"Objection,’ said Bob Jeffries in a bored manner. "Irrelevant."

"Not so," said Michael. "We need to know what the performance of past directors has been."

"Go ahead and answer," directed Bob.

"Well. . . she planned the program along with those of us on the board. She ran the house, saw that everything was done. So capable." Sally was actually indulging in a beneficent smile.

"And how did she come to leave?"

"Why, she married and moved away from the city."

"And Sandra Guilford became the next director?"

"Yes, she did."

"And how did that come about?"

"We began to look for another director, of course, and Bunny Lester came up with Sandra’s name."

"Who is Bunny Lester?"

"Why, that’s Bonita Lester, Mrs. Phillip Lester." Sally Ewing sounded surprised that the name of Bunny Lester needed any further explanation. "She was president at the time."

"And what happened then, after her name was brought up?"

"Bunny said she’d like to have us meet Sandra, that she was just finishing her degree." Sally Ewing did not specify where Sandra’s degree had been earned.

"Did she tell you that Sandra was blind?"

"Why, yes, she did."

"And how did you feel about that?"

Mrs. Ewing took a long time to answer. Mairin saw that this could be ticklish. "Well, of course I had some reservations about that."

"Why, ‘of course’?"

"Well, blindness is such a handicap, you know."

"Weren’t all the residents of Evergreen House handicapped?"

"Why, yes, they were. But that’s just the point."

"You mean the blind leading the retarded?"

"That's just it. Our girls need supervision."

"Did you bring out that concern with Bunny Lester and the rest of the board members?"

"I did."

"And what was the result?"

"Bunny said that I needn’t be concerned on that score, that I’d see for myself when I met her how competent she was."

"And did you meet her?"

"Yes. She came to the house one afternoon to have tea with us."

"By ‘us’ do you mean the entire board?"

"Yes. There were probably ten of us present."

"And what transpired at that tea?"

"We were introduced to her, to Sandra. She talked to us about being blind." She stole a glance at Sandra, as though convinced that Sandra might have regained sight. "She said she’d like to work with our girls."

"Did you talk to Sandra then about any of your concerns?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you said that you were concerned that Sandra couldn’t supervise the girls. Did you tell her of your concerns and give her a chance to respond to them?"

"Bunny said. . . ."

"Objection," said Robert Jeffries. Mrs. Ewing looked at him in great surprise that anyone might object to anything that Bunny Lester might have to say.

"The question was directed to what was asked, not to what Bunny Lester said," Bob Jeffries explained.

"Oh, of course," she said. "Well, no, I didn’t ask anything."

"You didn’t ask anything." Michael made a restatement. "You had concerns, but you didn’t make them known. Why not?"

Sally Ewing looked at him with puzzlement on her face. "It wouldn’t have been polite," she said.

"Do you think it’s more ‘polite’ to have hired her and now be trying to say that she’s not competent?"

"I object!" This was no bored aside. Bob Jeffries was halfway out of his chair, giving a baleful glance at Michael. "Argumentative." He added the ground for the objection.

"What would have been ‘polite?’"

"Ob-jection," snorted Bob Jeffries, making two distinct syllables.

"After Miss Guilford left, did you board members discuss the question of hiring her?"

"Of course."

"Did you make your objections known at that time?"

"Well, I don’t know that I’d call them objections. They were more in the nature of questions."

"Did you make your questions known, then?"

"We all had questions."

"You included? I’m not interested in the others at this point."

"Yes."

"And what was the discussion that took place then?"

"I believe I asked what would happen if someone got hurt and had to be driven to the hospital."

"That was your only concern?"

"Well, I wondered what might happen if one of the girls decided to sneak out at night."

"Was that a practice?"

"I don’t think so, but you never can tell with young people these days."

"So those were your only two concerns?"

"Well, everything in general. . . ."

"What?"

"Everything that needed to be done. Could a blind person do it?"

"Did you ask Miss Guilford that?"

"Objection. You’ve already asked that question, counselor."

"So you left that day without answers to your concerns?"

"Yes."

"When was the decision made to hire Miss Guilford?"

"That afternoon, I think. Bunny was going to send her a letter."

‘Did you all vote on the matter?"

"Yes."

"What was the vote?"

"We all voted to hire her. It was unanimous."

"Now why would you vote to hire her if you had unanswered concerns?"

"Bunny Lester felt that she could do the job. She pretty much convinced the rest of us."

"This Bunny Lester must be a pretty persuasive person. Did she twist your arms?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. She just told us what she’d observed of Sandra. She knew some of Sandra’s teachers."

"Did she convince you that Sandra could do the job?"

"Pretty much."

Michael looked at Bob. "Let’s take a break here."

"Fine."

Sandra asked Mairin to take her to the ladies room. Holly went along with them. Bob Jeffries and Sally Ewing walked down to the coffee room. When Mairin and Sandra returned to the conference room, Michael and Bob were discussing a recent large settlement in a negligence suit.

Sally Ewing was looking out a window. "Okay," said Michael.

"Mrs. Ewing?" said Bob Jeffries, and the second session was underway.

After Sandra Guilford was hired, what were your personal experiences and observations of her?"

"I was in and out a great deal. . . ."

Michael interrupted her. "Can you be a bit more specific?"

"Let’s see." Sally Ewing wrinkled her brow. "Now, Tuesday afternoon I nearly always stopped by on my way home from the orchestra committee. If anything needed to be done--any errand, or any typing, something like that--I’d do it. Then Thursday morning I always stopped in, too. Ardis and Sandra knew this would be my schedule, so if they needed to have things done, they’d save them for me." She said all of this in her Lady Bountiful tone, and Mairin began to think of her as Lady Ewing.

"And on any of these occasions, did you observe any condition that concerned you insofar as Miss Guilford’s performance of her duties went?"

"I did."

"Please relate these observations to us." Michael sounded as though he had all the time in the world. Mairin had been watching him during the depo. He was very intense. He had barely acknowledged her presence this morning, not at all willing to engage in the small talk that he carried on with Bob Jeffries. She wondered if Bob Jeffries, too, was far more tense than he appeared. This must be like the operating room for a surgeon. Mairin doubted that there were many relaxed surgeons in operating rooms.

"There were four incidents," said Sally Ewing precisely. So she’s counted them out with Mr. Jeffries, thought Mairin.

"Four. All right, please go through them."

"The first one was the first winter Sandra was in the house. She had started that fall. I came into the kitchen and almost fell. There was a large wet area on the kitchen floor. Soup, I think."

"Soup?"

‘Yes. There had been soup for lunch that day."

‘And what did you do?"

"I went to Sandra’s room. I told her there was a most dangerous condition in the kitchen."

"How did she respond?"

"She asked me to show it to her. I did. She took paper towels and cleaned it up."

‘Did Sandra spill the soup?"

"She said it must have been spilled by Marie. She’s our housekeeper."

"Then why hadn’t Marie cleaned it up?"

"She must not have noticed it."

"But you held Sandra Guilford accountable for the spill?"

"She was in charge. She supervises Marie."

Michael had a quizzical look on his face. It was plain that he thought this incident was not worth dealing with. "And the second incident?"

"It happened the following summer. One of the girls began to look very ragged and unkempt. Now we try hard to get the girls to take pride in the way they look. Bcause of their handicap, it’s even more important for them to look well-kempt than for other girls. This is a particularly important aspect of the director’s job. However, this girl, Margaret, just kept looking worse and worse. I finally talked to Sandra about it. I described as exactly as I could what was wrong with Margaret’s appearance. Well, then, of course, Margaret had to be talked to." Sally Ewing paused.

"Who did that?"

"Sandra did."

"Did that take care of the matter?"

"Margaret began to look a bit better, but I kept having to seek Margaret out so that I could check how she looked. There's no way, of course, that a blind person would be able to do that."

"This was quite a burden on you, I suppose?"

Sally Ewing caught the half-hidden sarcasm in Michael’s tone. She hesitated. "I was glad to do it, of course, but it is the director’s job to keep note of such things."

"Miss Guilford did carry through the task of discussing the matter with Margaret, didn’t she?"

"Oh yes."

"She was able to carry out that part of the job?"

"Oh yes."

"Don’t you think that the ability to have such a personal conversation in a way to effect positive results is the mark of a good director?"

"Yes, but the point is, she couldn’t do her job without help, and we trustees can’t see everything."

Mairin couldn’t decide whether Mrs. Ewing truly believed that this molehill was a mountain or just saw the potential for making it such. Michael decided to leave it at its current height. "Third?"

Sally Ewing hesitated again. "There was the program from Planned Parenthood that Sandra felt was fit for the girls."

"How does this relate to her blindness?"

"It doesn’t."

"Then why is it an issue?"

"It shows poor judgment!" Mrs. Ewing’s tone almost crackled.

"That judgment has nothing to do with blindness. It’s simply a matter of opinion. Ms. Guilford felt it was an appropriate program; you don’t feel that way. The issue in this suit is that you have discriminated against her because of her handicap, not that you have discriminated against her with regard to her judgment."

Mrs. Ewing looked at Bob Jeffries. He leaned over and whispered a few words to her. She looked back at Michael.

"Fourth?"

"Fourth there is the incident with Anita. This just happened last summer. It was the last straw, so to speak. The girl cut her hand badly. I got there when Ms. Guilford was washing out the cut. She finished and started to bandage it, but I noticed that the wound was not clean. I called it to her attention, but she disagreed with me" Sally Ewing had a tone of complete surprise. "I insisted on washing it out again. We just cannot have that! Those girls are our responsibility."

"Mrs. Ewing," said Michael, "I am aware that the girls at Evergreen House are mentally retarded, but in the comeon usage of the language, not the technical, is Anita a moron?"

"I don’t understand what you mean!"

"Is Anita non-functional? Can she exercise any judgment over her own affairs?"

"Some, of course."

"Couldn’t she wash out her own cut?"

"She was frightened, and she was carrying on something fierce. We must have adequate care for our girls."

"It would be interesting to know whether Anita herself thought that the cut was clean. Did she give any indication?"

Mrs. Ewing stopped, wrinkling her brow. Mairin guessed that she had cultivated that look. "Why, no, I don’t believe she did. She was carrying on too much, you know."

"And this is the fourth incident. You’re sure there aren’t any more?"

"I’m sure."

"Think carefully now. Take your time. Is there anything you’ve forgotten to tell us?"

"I don’t know what you mean."

"Four incidents. Three incidents, really, because the one is not in question. Some soup spilled on the floor. Happens all the time, and in the best of homes. A girl who may have been a little raggedy. And a cut that had been well-washed, whether or not there was a speck of dirt remaining. . . . And for three little things you’re ready to deny a woman her livelihood?" There was weight in Michael’s tone.

"Well. . . why. . . " Sally Ewing was taken aback at this tack. "These are serious incidents."

Michael laughed. "Do you really expect me to believe that you believe that?

"I do!" said Mrs. Ewing simultaneously with Bob Jeffries' shouted objection.

"This is ridiculous, counselor," he stormed. "The lady has answered all of your questions graciously, and you are now attempting to browbeat her, to insinuate that she really doesn’t believe a word that she has said!"

"I don’t think that she does," said Michael. I don’t see how anyone in her right mind would deprive a woman of her livelihood and jeopardize her professional reputation on the basis of such patently ridiculous assertions."

"We do not intend to remain," said Bob Jeffries, rising and beckoning to Mrs. Ewing to follow him. "I’ll have a court order on you for contempt, Morgan."

"I’ll have a court order for your client to answer those questions!" yelled Michael as Bob Jeffries and Sally Ewing disappeared into the hall.

Mairin was shaking. The anger frightened her. It always had. She pushed the memories down. She looked at Sandra as if to lock herself into the present. Sandra seemed composed. Michael seemed elated. "How did you like that?" he asked.

"She deserved it," said Sandra. "You were exactly right."

"I know," said Michael. He looked at his watch. "Three o’clock. I'm starved. Let’s go get something to eat. I’ll buy."

"I have to get back to the house, said Sandra. "Logan is waiting for me there. Why not just drop me off?"

They drove to Evergreen House and went in with Sandra and Holly.Michael gave Logan an account of the depo. Mairin could see him unwinding as he reenacted the deposition.

Then he and Mairin left and stopped for hamburgers. He continued his monologue, not seeming to notice Mairin’s lack of reaction. Finally, just as coffee came, he said, "You’re really tired, aren’t you?"

"Yes," she’d said, around bites of onion rings.

When they’d gotten back in his car, she had leaned her head back on the seat.

"Put your head on my shoulder," he ‘d said.

"No," she’d said very quickly.

"Mairin," he’d laughed, "are you afraid of me?"

She had sat up straight. "Michael, I’m a real Victorian. You have to remember that. I was raised In another era mentally."

"Mairin," he’d pushed, "are you afraid of me?"

"You’re a man, Michael," she had said.

"Is there a syllogism there?" he’d asked.

"Probably," said Mairin, "but I’m too tired to figure it out."

"But not tired enough to put your head on my shoulder?"

"No, not that tired."

He had laughed and had gone right back into a completely asexual discussion of the deposition.

At ten-thirty Mairin stopped trying to nap, got up and wandered into the living room. Harry was sitting in the midst of a pile of papers, half-snoozing. He looked up as Mairin walked by. "You didn’t have any dinner, did you?"

"No, just the hamburgers. But that was really enough."

"Bea made some cake."

"Great,’ Mairin said and went into the kitchen. She ate two pieces of the German chocolate cake and got out a bottle of wine. She poured a glass and sat back down at the dinette table. She was feeling horribly depressed and lonely. The utter hostility of the day pressed down upon her. It brought back too many memories. They crowded around, but she pushed them back. The loneliness was crushing. All of a sudden she got up, walked into the living room, sat down on the couch beside Harry and began to cry.

"Mairin, Mairin!" he was surprised, coming fully awake. Without really thinking about it, he put an arm around her. "What’s the matter?"

"Nothing. . . I don’t know. . ." she was crying very hard, she was shaking.

Let her cry he thought. This is way overdue. He thought of the times when he had been sure that she would cry--the nights when she came in tired, worn down, worried about a case. That job, he thought, it’s too grueling. There’s too much sadness. She’s a young girl, why does she need to see the unhappiness and the despair, and most of it she can’t do anything about anyway. But he had always figured that most of her moods came somewhere out of the past. She refused to talk about her family. She had said that she didn’t know how to react to kindness. But here she was, curled up beside him, crying. Mairin, who flinched if he put a hand on her shoulder. He was holding her close but gently. She had come to him.

"Tell me about it, Mair," he said.

"Oh, Harry, I can’t. . . I can’t because I don’t know myself. I just don’t know."

"Just tell me what’s in your mind, what you see."

"A frightened little girl, being yelled at. Such anger. .." She responded almost immediately, without guarding the words. Then he felt her tense again. He waited, but she didn’t continue.

"And you felt that way today?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell Michael how you felt?"

"He wouldn’t understand."

"No, he wouldn’t, but I think you ought to tell him anyway. There’s no need for you to have to go through the depositions in this case."

"Oh, no, Harry. I have to. Sandra needs me. I can’t tell Michael how upsetting this is. He would be ashamed of me." She tried to get up, but Harry held her firmly.

"Just one question, Mair," he said, "and I want an honest answer. How do you feel about Michael?"

"Harry!" exclaimed Mairin, struggling to get away.

"Answer me, Mair."

"Harry, that isn’t a proper question, and I’m not going to answer it. Let me go."

No use to hold her, he thought. It would destroy all the good of our relationship so far to try to force her to talk about something she doesnt went to talk about.

He said to Bea later, "I’m going to have a talk with Michael Morgan. I don’t like his relationship with Mairin."

"For heaven’s sakes, what kind of relationship does he have with her? Anything that I don’t know?"

"Oh, hell, Bea," Harry was pacing around the bedroom. "I don’t know anything. I don’t mean I think they’re having an affair. I don’t mean that at all. But I think she could get involved with him. Remember, I always knew with Laura and Betsy. I always knew when they were soft on someone. Mairin’s been enthralled with Michael ever since she had him for class. But that’s not the whole point. He’s pushing her. He's pushing her to be a trial lawyer. She hates that kind of tension, that kind of hostility. You should have seen her last night. She was so depressed. Remember, she went to bed early. I stayed up, reading the paper. I heard her get up. She went into the kitchen. All of a sudden she came back into the living room, sat down on the couch beside me and burst into tears. I can’t remember exactly what she said, but the gist of it was that this case is upsetting her and that she can’t talk to Michael about it. Well, I’ll talk to him."

"And just how are you going to do that? Mairin will be furious. And she’d have a right to be, in my book."

"I’ll just call him up and invite him for lunch. And she doesn’t need to know about it."