Bennie turned to Mary and Judy, momentarily chastened. “He’s right. You guys get to say what you think. You have an equal vote. Do you want to settle with that jerk?”
“No settlement,” Mary heard herself answering, her heart speaking for her. She knew how she felt, despite the personal risk. Anthony might not agree, but luckily, he wasn’t here. “I love John, but he’s wrong. He didn’t deserve to be made partner yet, it was too soon. We don’t discriminate against men here. We’re in the right and we should fight.”
Judy nodded gravely. “Roger, I understand your recommendation, and in other circumstances, I would agree. But we can’t settle this. If you don’t fight when you’re right, when do you fight?”
Roger remained characteristically impassive. “I hear you three, for now. We can revisit the settlement question at any point. I am asking you to keep an open mind. We’ve been lawyers long enough to know that being ‘in the right’”—he made air quotes with his nimble fingers—“doesn’t guarantee a successful result, nor is it a very good reason to go forward in litigation. But for now, I’ll accept your judgment, as I must.”
“Good.” Bennie rubbed her hands together, taking her seat. “Now, what we need to do is finalize the Answer—”
“—I was going to say that,” Roger interrupted.
“—and go full steam ahead on the legal research we started—”
“—I was going to say that, too.” Roger shot Bennie a look. “Who’s running this case?”
“Who do you think?” Bennie shot back, with a cocky smile.
“Ha!” Roger laughed. “And I take it we agree on the need to utilize Isaac’s services. We need him, now more than ever. John’s departure raises questions we need to address in the media.”
“Fine,” Bennie said, reluctantly.
“Okay.” Judy nodded.
“Uh, sure,” Mary answered, but she was suddenly distracted. She didn’t want to say so out loud, but she felt a warm dampness in her underwear, which, during a pregnancy, could mean trouble.
Roger smiled. “Excellent.”
Isaac nodded. “Thank you for your confidence in me, ladies.”
Mary rose, nervously. “Excuse me a minute. Bathroom run.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mary tried not to be nervous while her OB/GYN, Dr. Melissa Foster, examined her from somewhere behind the white tent covering her knees. Mary had texted Anthony, and he was on the way to the doctor’s office, but Judy was with Mary now, holding her hand. Mary realized that a best friend was somebody who would hold your hand when you’re in stirrups.
Mary glanced at Judy, who looked down at her with a reassuring smile, standing next to the examining table. She’d managed to exit the meeting gracefully, leaving behind a concerned Bennie, and Judy had hailed them both a cab and gotten them here in no time. Mary had gone to the bathroom and discovered that she was spotting, so she’d called the doctor and had been told to come right in.
Dr. Foster wasn’t saying anything, and Mary fought the impulse to start chatting away, the way she always did. She abhorred silence the way Nature abhorred a vacuum and always found herself yapping at times that normal people stayed quiet, like when she was getting her hair cut, her nails done, or even during a massage. She had a pedicure once and talked nonstop at the pedicurist, who spoke only Korean, as it turned out. Mary was no different at the OB/GYN’s office and she delivered some of her best lines when there was a speculum inside her. But not this time.
“Dr. Foster, is everything okay?” Mary asked, unable to stay quiet another minute.
“Give me another minute or two,” Dr. Foster answered, which Mary knew was code for please stop asking questions.
Mary’s gaze fell on Dr. Foster’s framed diplomas, with their fancy gold seals, and that gave her some reassurance. Dr. Foster was one of the best OB/GYNs in the city, and Mary had been lucky to get into her practice. The doctor was in her early fifties, with an academic bent, since she taught at medical school. She was African-American and wore her hair short, and her features were fine-boned behind her glasses, with their heavy black frames. Little diamonds twinkled from her earlobes, and her frame was petite but superfit since she was a runner. Mary loved her kind but no-nonsense bedside manner. Dr. Foster was who you wanted if your pregnancy was in trouble, which Mary prayed wasn’t the case.
She glanced around the room, trying to draw reassurance from the soft mint green of the walls, the colorful watercolor bouquet in a pale blue frame, and the flowery pink letters of the requisite inspirational sayings sign: I SET MY WORRIES ASIDE AND LET MY BODY DO ITS JOB. Mary looked away, because the sign wasn’t helping. It only reminded her of her job, which was to be back at work, trying not to lose everything she and Anthony owned. She was still reeling from John’s quitting and terrified that it would put a nail in the coffin of the lawsuit. Bennie had even called it a death blow, which wasn’t the kind of panicky language she used. Mary had known that being sued was stressful, but she had never realized how completely stressful it could be, until it happened to her.
Suddenly there was a soft knock at the door, and Mary looked to the left to see Anthony enter the room, worriedly. “Hey, hubby, how are you?”
“The question is, how are you.” Anthony came over, kissed Mary on the forehead, and took her other hand, glancing at Judy and Dr. Foster. “Judy, thanks for bringing her. Hi, Dr. Foster.”
“No worries,” Judy answered.
“Anthony, hi,” Dr. Foster said from behind the tent, which was at the opposite side of the room from the door. Mary realized the setup of the room was intentional, because nobody wanted to open a door onto whatever was on the other side of the white tent. The thought made her smile, but it went away.
“Okay.” Dr. Foster got up from her rolling stool and smiled in a professional way, taking off her purple-plastic gloves. “I think everything’s fine.”
“Thank God!” Judy blurted out, even before Mary and Anthony, then realized she had talked out of turn. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Mary said, touched. “It’s a relief, God knows.”
Anthony looked at Dr. Foster, his dark eyes wet with the emotion he was trying to hold back. “But what was it then? Mary said she was ‘spotting,’ and I don’t know, what exactly does that mean?”
“Spotting means there was some bleeding, and that’s perfectly normal from time to time, especially in the first trimester—”
Mary interrupted, “But I’m in my third trimester.”
“Yes, I know,” Dr. Foster answered, patiently. “But I’ve examined you, and I’m not overly concerned. It does happen, and you need to come in and have me check it out when it does.”
“But what causes it?”
“It’s symptomatic of some conditions that luckily, you don’t have.”
“Like what?”
“Well, like placental abruption, which is caused when the placenta is detaching from the uterine wall. Or even preterm labor, but you are not in labor. You said you weren’t feeling any contractions and you had no more nausea than usual.”
“Right, and I haven’t had any dizziness or anything like that.”
“Got it.” Dr. Foster cocked her head. “Are you under stress, Mary?”
Mary blinked, and Judy burst into laughter. Anthony didn’t.
Mary answered, “Let’s just say things are busy at work.”
Dr. Foster smiled, more warmly. “I know, I hear you. Doctors always tell you to eliminate stress, and that’s completely impossible in the modern world. You’re a lawyer, and stress is part and parcel of your profession.”
“That’s exactly right,” Mary said, without elaborating. She didn’t want to whine about being sued and she knew that Dr. Foster had a full waiting room, having squeezed her in on an emergency basis. “So what do I do about the spotting?”
“Nothing, just try to take it easier. Here, scoot down for me.” Dr. Foster began closing up the stirrups and placing Mary’s legs down under the sheet.
“Can I go back to work?”
“Yes, but no strenuous activities like racquetball.”
“Good, I don’t play racquetball.”