more months.
But I didn’t want Joe to feel that he had to compromise on how he wanted to run his life because of me. The idealism that had driven him out of the practice of law was one of the things I liked about him. My father was an auto mechanic; I would be perfectly content with a craftsman as a husband. Besides, I’d tried the upscale life during my first marriage, and I didn’t like it.
But I tried to put all this aside when I carried a tray with crackers and cheese and two glasses of wine into the living room. The couch has a good view of the fire, and we settled down on it.
“What’s this e-mail problem you had?” I said.
Joe laughed. “It’s not really an ‘e-mail’ problem. It’s an ‘e-go’ problem.”
“Ego? Yours?”
“Not this time. Have I told you about Ellison Peters?”
“Is he on that e-mail list of small town city attorneys?”
“Oh, yeah. But he’s a cut above the rest of us. The ‘small town’ he represents is St. Anthony. You know, ‘Tony City.’ ”
“Over by Detroit?”
“It’s the place people move to when they want to go upscale from Grosse Pointe. We may think we have lots of millionaires around here, but Tony City makes Warner Pier look like the low-rent district.”
“And Ellison thinks his city’s economic status gives him clout?”
“Definitely. Not that he has the money to live there himself. But he’s one of these with a slick suit, a slick haircut, and a slick car.”
“But is he a slick lawyer?”
“He’s a pretty good lawyer. Just a shade too dignified for me to invite him out to the boat shop. Anyway, he has appointed himself chairman of the small town city attorneys e-mail list.”
“What did he do to cause a problem?”
“He’s decided we should present a case at a moot court competition. He committed us without consulting the rest of the list.” Joe laughed. “Some of the other guys aren’t very excited about it.”
“If he can’t get enough people to take part, he can’t pull it off. Why is this a problem?”
“There was a lot of e-mailing back and forth when it came up.” Joe laughed again. “And some of the people failed to remove all the old messages before they sent new ones.”
I began to see. “Oh, no!”
“Oh, yes. The word ‘idiot’ was used.”
We both laughed. “Then you,” I said, “had to spend the afternoon on the phone calming this guy down.”
“Right. It took a conference call between four of us. But we got Ellison to climb off his high horse. It’s all going to work out.”
Then Joe got up and poked at his fire. He was looking in the fireplace, not at me, when he spoke again. “All the guys on the list want invitations to the wedding.”
There went the evening, right down the drain.
Chapter 6
D arn. Joe had obviously come with a new array of arguments designed to get me to agree to a big wedding.
“I’d better check on the meatloaf,” I said. I got up and went to the kitchen.
I fled the living room because I didn’t want to argue about it. Again. Oh, I knew we had to settle the issue sometime, but not that night. I got angry at the thought.
Besides, a tricky little voice told me, if I waited long enough we wouldn’t have time to plan a big wedding before April, and Joe would have to give the idea up.
I had looked at the meatloaf and turned the fire on low under the green beans when I heard Joe coming.
Joe spoke slowly. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Oh, no. I’m just upset tonight. The funeral and everything.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I’ve put the fire under the green beans—Texas style, with bacon bits. We can have another glass of wine.”
Joe looked concerned, but again I told myself I didn’t want to discuss the wedding plans that night. I led the way to the living room and tried to change the subject.
“Julie’s family is a bit strange,” I said.
“How so?”
I described the funeral and the reception afterward, including my tête-à-tête with
But I didn’t want Joe to feel that he had to compromise on how he wanted to run his life because of me. The idealism that had driven him out of the practice of law was one of the things I liked about him. My father was an auto mechanic; I would be perfectly content with a craftsman as a husband. Besides, I’d tried the upscale life during my first marriage, and I didn’t like it.
But I tried to put all this aside when I carried a tray with crackers and cheese and two glasses of wine into the living room. The couch has a good view of the fire, and we settled down on it.
“What’s this e-mail problem you had?” I said.
Joe laughed. “It’s not really an ‘e-mail’ problem. It’s an ‘e-go’ problem.”
“Ego? Yours?”
“Not this time. Have I told you about Ellison Peters?”
“Is he on that e-mail list of small town city attorneys?”
“Oh, yeah. But he’s a cut above the rest of us. The ‘small town’ he represents is St. Anthony. You know, ‘Tony City.’ ”
“Over by Detroit?”
“It’s the place people move to when they want to go upscale from Grosse Pointe. We may think we have lots of millionaires around here, but Tony City makes Warner Pier look like the low-rent district.”
“And Ellison thinks his city’s economic status gives him clout?”
“Definitely. Not that he has the money to live there himself. But he’s one of these with a slick suit, a slick haircut, and a slick car.”
“But is he a slick lawyer?”
“He’s a pretty good lawyer. Just a shade too dignified for me to invite him out to the boat shop. Anyway, he has appointed himself chairman of the small town city attorneys e-mail list.”
“What did he do to cause a problem?”
“He’s decided we should present a case at a moot court competition. He committed us without consulting the rest of the list.” Joe laughed. “Some of the other guys aren’t very excited about it.”
“If he can’t get enough people to take part, he can’t pull it off. Why is this a problem?”
“There was a lot of e-mailing back and forth when it came up.” Joe laughed again. “And some of the people failed to remove all the old messages before they sent new ones.”
I began to see. “Oh, no!”
“Oh, yes. The word ‘idiot’ was used.”
We both laughed. “Then you,” I said, “had to spend the afternoon on the phone calming this guy down.”
“Right. It took a conference call between four of us. But we got Ellison to climb off his high horse. It’s all going to work out.”
Then Joe got up and poked at his fire. He was looking in the fireplace, not at me, when he spoke again. “All the guys on the list want invitations to the wedding.”
There went the evening, right down the drain.
Chapter 6
D arn. Joe had obviously come with a new array of arguments designed to get me to agree to a big wedding.
“I’d better check on the meatloaf,” I said. I got up and went to the kitchen.
I fled the living room because I didn’t want to argue about it. Again. Oh, I knew we had to settle the issue sometime, but not that night. I got angry at the thought.
Besides, a tricky little voice told me, if I waited long enough we wouldn’t have time to plan a big wedding before April, and Joe would have to give the idea up.
I had looked at the meatloaf and turned the fire on low under the green beans when I heard Joe coming.
Joe spoke slowly. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Oh, no. I’m just upset tonight. The funeral and everything.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I’ve put the fire under the green beans—Texas style, with bacon bits. We can have another glass of wine.”
Joe looked concerned, but again I told myself I didn’t want to discuss the wedding plans that night. I led the way to the living room and tried to change the subject.
“Julie’s family is a bit strange,” I said.
“How so?”
I described the funeral and the reception afterward, including my tête-à-tête with
Similar Books
