Frank wasted no time. “Come tomorrow at ten.”

“I’ll be there,” Karen answered. “I was afraid I’d have to get in line.”

Frank chuckled. “Mary Carmody also has a ten o’clock. Be here early and look worried. I’ll have Becky tell Mary it’s an emergency.”

Karen knew Mary Carmody. Mary was the kind who gave plaintiffs’ lawyers a bad name. She had an ugly scar from minor surgery on her arm. Frank thought it matched the rest of her and saw no reason for suing. But Bill Clemens had referred her, and Bill also sent good cases.

At five minutes to ten Karen entered the offices of Frazier & Drummond. Despite her familiarity with every wall, floor, and ceiling, she had a sensation of not quite belonging. This visit was neither social nor daily work routine. She was there as a job applicant, and she looked around through the eyes of a newcomer. For the first time she tried to estimate the size of the oriental-style carpets covering the hardwood floors and wondered about their price. Her eyes took in the oak paneling of the walls, the leather furniture, the crystal chandeliers. She imagined herself a client, matching the attorney’s fees with the cost of furnishing this refuge for victims of tort. Evidently someone had researched the subject and concluded that a plush office promised damage awards of like value. Yes, as a client she would feel reassured.

Walking to the reception desk, she looked worried as instructed. Sure enough, there was Mary Carmody with a bandage on her forearm. Karen nodded curtly before turning to Becky.

“Mr. Frazier will be with you in a moment, Mrs. Avery. I hope things work.”

“Thanks,” she replied and began pacing the twelve-by-fifteen carpet.

“Urgent matter?” asked Mary.

“Yes.”

“I hope it isn’t as bad as my case. You can’t believe how those doctors disfigured me for life. I’d show it to you, but you’re upset enough already. Well, I’m going to make ’em pay.”

With consummate satisfaction she sat back to await the restitution she was entitled to.

The buzzer sounded. Once safely in Frank’s office, she broke into a voiceless laugh.

“It’s OK,” Frank said. “The office is soundproof. Isn’t she’s a piece of work, though? A real caricature. Take your time. I need a breather to steel myself for the coming ordeal.”

Karen sat down. “I want to come back to work,” she said, wiping away a mirthful tear. “Despite Mary.” Again she began to laugh.

“There’s plenty to do. When can you start?”

“As soon as I’ve made daycare arrangements. Once that’s done, I’ll want to stick around just long enough to make sure Edie’s adjusted. A couple of weeks, maybe?”

“Take care of what you have to. Make sure everything’s under control, because I don’t want you to stop once you’ve started.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“How available are you?”

“You mean, how many hours a day, how many days a week?”

“You know how it is. The work piles up. I remember some of your twelve-hour days . . .”

“Oh yes. It’s amazing, looking back. I never felt those hours were a burden. And Alan was so busy with his residency, he didn’t miss me at home.”

“The ‘good old days’?”

“Good old days never last, do they? Else we’d still be living them instead of talking about them. Mine were numbered from the beginning. Two years ago I was still trying to deny it.”

“If it’s not too personal, was the final decision really yours, or was it made under protest? I recall your saying that Alan was leaning on you to have the baby.”

“There was pressure, and it was decisive in the short run. But I’d made a commitment, and sooner or later I’d have had to honor it, for my own conscience if nothing else.”

“I should have known. You’re not the person to cave in to pressure from without.”

“Anyway,” Karen said with a short sigh, “here she is now. It’ll be years before I can ever think of going back to the schedule I used to keep. First you play with them; then you help them with their homework and take them to music lessons; then guide them through puberty; then try to keep them out of trouble. All the time modeling a healthy, well-balanced life.”

“Which a sixty-hour week is not,” he finished her thought. “But don’t worry, with parents like you two, Eden’ll be in college while her cohorts are still struggling through junior high!”

“Yeah, sure. Well, she’ll never get that chance. Children who get too far ahead of their age group have social problems. If we should be so blessed, I’d rather find extracurricular programs where she can develop other talents, and keep her with her peers. But coming back to the here and now, it’s strictly part-time.”

He rose from his chair, walked to the window overlooking the river, and sat on the sill.

“So, how many hours are we talking about?”

“I was thinking four hours a day, five days a week. How feasible is that?”

“We have work for you.”

“What kind of work?”

“Research, case evaluation, client interviews, Mary, preparation of complaints and interrogatories, lots of things. Basically, as my assistant.”

“Working with you I can’t help but learn, and I’m thankful for that opportunity. Of course, you would have to throw in Mary.”

“I’d rather throw her out. Actually, I wish I hadn’t said her name. Now I’ve reminded myself that she’s out there. Call me as soon as Eden’s all squared away so we can get started.”

“Thanks. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything. Can I ask just one question?”

“Of course.”

“You said nothing about trials or depositions. You know, the real head-butting stuff.”

“Those things often as not take all day. We can’t limit the hours we’re available.”

“So, the real meat of trial law I’m not going to get my hands on. That’s it, isn’t it?”

Frank spread out his arms in a helpless gesture. “You just gave me your hours! Let’s see how things go. The important thing’s to get started.”

With mixed feelings she left the office, smiled at Mary, and turned to look for Janine.

“Oh, by the way,” Frank added as she was leaving, “we have a new associate. Six years with Sturgis & Best. Husband’s a writer. I’ll introduce you when you start back.”

Karen felt the adrenalin effect instantly.