“Then maybe we can get a nanny, or let our mothers do it, or whatever.”
“Right, we’ll see how it goes.” Mary wished she could make it all right for him, but she couldn’t. And part of the problem was how guilty she felt, because he had turned down a big teaching job at UCLA for her, so she didn’t have to move away from Philadelphia.
“I mean, obviously, I’m excited about the baby and all, and I’ll love being home with him. Or her.”
“Of course you will.”
“But it wasn’t the plan. Obviously, it’s not the plan.”
“No, right.” Mary bit her tongue. She had heard him say this before, but she never knew how to react. Truth to tell, it wasn’t the plan for her either. She would’ve loved to have stayed home with the baby for more than a few weeks. She’d always envisioned herself as an at-home mother, at least for a time. But they got pregnant sooner than they’d expected, so they had to compromise. And like any good settlement, neither side was completely happy.
“I don’t even know if I’ll be good at it.”
“Of course you will,” Mary said, to soothe him. “You’ll be a great dad.”
“But will I be a great mom?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Yes.” Anthony chuckled.
“Seriously? Don’t buy in. We don’t have their ideas of what women do and men do. Please don’t let it make you crazy, or me.”
“I won’t.”
“We’re better than that. We’re smarter than that.”
“I know.” Anthony paused. “But your parents get to me. I feel bad in front of them, ashamed.”
“Why, honey?” Mary asked, hurt for him.
Anthony shrugged, his dark gaze looking out into the night. “Obviously, I wish I had been able to provide for you, so your father wouldn’t worry or your mother.”
“Aw, honey, don’t be that way. They love you, and that’s all that matters. They know you’re amazing and great, and when you sell your book, things will change.”
“But what if I don’t sell it?”
“You will.”
“But what if I don’t?” Anthony repeated, and Mary knew the anxiety was deep-seated, for them both.
“Then you’ll write another one, or another job offer will come up, and either way, we’ll have each other and a beautiful little baby girl.”
Anthony managed a smile, a welcome shadow in the dark car. “Hold on, I thought you said it was a boy. You said it felt like a boy.”
“I changed my mind.” Mary smiled back. “At this point, I don’t care if it’s a girl or boy.”
Anthony recoiled. “What? You want a girl.”
“Not anymore. Either way, it’ll get sued.”
Anthony laughed.
“You still want a boy?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“Truly, I’ll take either. That’s the kind of mom I am.”
“Please, I’ve had enough gender politics for one day, with this litigation.” Mary let her thoughts cycle back to the Answer, which they had spent the afternoon drafting. “I’ll probably have to go in tomorrow to do some research on the case.”
“But it’s Saturday.”
“I don’t have a choice,” Mary said, not wanting to fight. She and Anthony got along so beautifully, but the only thing they fought over was how much she worked, yet another role reversal.
“So Machiavelli’s really suing the firm?”
“Yes, did you see the press conference?”
“I caught it online, and yours, too.”
“Oh that must’ve been terrific.” Mary shuddered. “Can we not talk about it? It was a debacle. The whole thing is a debacle.”
“On the plus side, you looked pretty. So did Bennie. Less Amazonian than usual.”
Mary smiled. “Anne made us up. Like my new dress?”
“How much did it cost?”
“The firm paid for it.”
“Then I love it.” Anthony sighed. “You really have to go in tomorrow? Can’t you slack? It’s been so long since we’ve had a lazy weekend. There’s not that many more left before the baby comes.”
“I can’t, honey.” Mary put her hand on his leg. “This lawsuit is too important. He named us as individual defendants, did you know that?”
“Wait, what?” Anthony braked at the light, and Mary could see his alarmed frown.
“He’s suing us under a law that enables him to sue the three partners personally.”
“Does that mean what I think it means? If you lose, we pay it? Personally?”
“Yes,” Mary answered, kicking herself. She knew that Anthony worried about money, which she understood, but she was in no mood.
“How would we pay? How much? What damages are they asking?”
“It’s unclear at this point.”
“But they have to ask for damages in the Complaint, don’t they?”
“No, it’s not a complaint that you file in court, where damages are specified. It’s an administrative complaint filed with the Pennsylvania Human Relations Commission.”
“So how much can they get if they win? Like ten grand or fifty? Or one hundred grand?”
“It’s hard to say, because we don’t—”
“Can’t you ballpark it?”
“No, because there’s too many variables.”
“What are you, a contractor?” Anthony scoffed. “Gimme a number. I have a right to know, don’t I?”
“Okay, let me think.” Mary had been calculating it in her head for most of the afternoon, though she, Judy, and Bennie kept coming up with different totals, since damages in a failure-to-hire case were notoriously hard to calculate. “It’s three plaintiffs who say they weren’t hired because they’re men. Let’s assume that we lose.” Mary felt sick at the thought alone. “The way to make them whole is to award them what they would’ve earned if they had gotten the job for a reasonable period of years.”
“Are you serious?”
“That’s the theory.” Mary hated getting into the weeds with him. She never should’ve said anything. “So if the going rate for an associate is seventy grand a year and they were wrongly denied that pay, then that’s three plaintiffs at seventy grand a year, probably for five years and—”
“Are you kidding me? That’s over a million dollars!” Anthony slammed on the brakes, harder than necessary.
“I know.” Mary had to admit it sounded scary, to her too. “But I would only pay a third of it.”
“So? Where are we going to get that kind of money? Especially now?”
“We’re not going to lose, Anthony.”
“But where will we get the money, if we did? You said yourself, you have to assume you lose, so where do we get that money?” Anthony threw up his hands. “We have a killer mortgage. I told you the house was a reach.”
“We’re doing fine with the mortgage.” Mary held her tongue. The new house had been a bone of contention too, but she bought it with her savings, so she’d made the down payment. They would’ve been on easy street but for the fact that she’d gotten pregnant and gotten sued, not in that order.
“Mary, this is a disaster.” Anthony shook his head as he drove. “I didn’t realize you’re getting sued personally.”
“I know, it’s unusual. We think that’s why Machiavelli chose to sue under the statute. In fact, he manufactured the whole case—”
“It doesn’t matter how it began, it only matters how it ends!”
“Well, we don’t know that yet, now do we?”
“No, but we know that,” Anthony shot back, newly agitated. “We cannot get another loan to pay off any judgment against us.”
“Okay, so we’ll win.”
“You better!”
“So maybe I should work tomorrow?” Mary asked dryly.
“I’ll pack your lunch,” Anthony shot back.
Suddenly Mary’s phone rang, and she pulled it from her purse and checked the screen to see a FaceTime call from Machiavelli, which wasn’t a complete surprise. It was his modus operandi to call her during their cases, like a kindergartener with his mother’s phone.
She said to Anthony, “Guess who.”