Chapter 2
Marcus’s law office was about three blocks from the courthouse. Those three blocks were some of the longest blocks of my life. The heat was uncomfortable enough. It was late May, and in the south that meant that our thermometers were already reaching into the high nineties. I breathed in a deep breath of the South’s distinct blend of sticky lukewarm air.
A glance at my watch showed that it was only a little passed 9:30 AM, yet the heat of the day was already encroaching into the early morning hours. Downtown Savannah bustled despite the time. Many locals worked the outdoor tables at restaurants getting ready for the lunch crowd and serving some coffee and pastries to a few late morning patrons.
Mixed in with the locals was the first wave of summertime tourists. The tourists seemed especially exuberant after a nice southern style breakfast at their quaint B&Bs and historic hotels. By midday they would be flagging from the humidity and would more than likely seek shelter in a tea room or bar.
Savannah had the tourist trade nailed down tight; there were outdoor activities for when the weather was good, but also plenty of eating and shopping to do during the heat of the day and the afternoon thundershowers that often popped up.
I glanced up at the sky as we crossed the street to begin block two of our trek. It was a bright cerulean blue with not a wisp of a cloud in sight, but the air held that tell-tale humidity that indicated an afternoon thundershower was a good bet later in the day. Not a local or a tourist seemed phased by the realization. It was simply a way of life here in the south. Heat in the morning, hell in the afternoon, and then the wrath of God would be displayed in a thunderstorm during the evening.
My gaze drifted from the sky back to the street. With a sigh I noted the stares of the people we passed. While most in the area were too polite to ask, their questions were in their eyes. They all wondered, “Just what the hell happened to you?”
Behind the darkened lens of my sunglasses, I was able to deal with the stares. Marcus had his arm around my shoulders giving me a supportive rock to lean on. He knew and understood just how much I hated to be the center of attention.
Soon we rounded the last block, and the entrance to Marcus’s law firm was in sight. If my shoes would have allowed it, I would have run screaming “Halleluiah” for the door.
Marcus sensed my need to hurry and increased his pace to match my steps. Seconds later, he opened the door and ushered me inside the building. Much to my chagrin, the stares and questions were not over.
As we ventured into the lobby of the building, we ran right into the front desk. And who should be manning the desk this morning, but Ella James Jackson. Now don’t get me wrong, on a good day Ella is the kindest, sweetest woman known to man. However, on a day you want to go unnoticed, she is not the woman you want to meet.
I ducked my head and tried to sneak by her desk; it didn’t work. I did not step one foot toward the elevator before she called out across the lobby in a voice loud enough for the angels to hear, “Miranda! Miranda Hannigan, I know that is you. What in God’s green earth have you done to yourself?”
I sighed in resignation and turned to face the forty-something black woman barreling down on me. I looked to Marcus for support, but he just shrugged his broad shoulders as if to say, “Hey, you knew this was going to happen; just grin and bear it.”
I slipped off my sunglasses; my mother had trained me too well to be so rude as to have a conversation indoors with my sunglasses in place. It just wasn’t done. I forced a smile to my lips, “Hi, Ella, it’s good to see you this morning.”
Ella’s reply was a “Hmmph!” She was dressed in her white Aramark security uniform and looked intimidating with her gun strapped to her hip. Not all security guards were trained and allowed to have guns, but since this was a legal office, the risk of real danger here had increased in the past few years, and security had been beefed up.
Ella stood before me in all her indignant glory. Her hands were on her hips, her dark eyes blazed fire, and her big bosoms rose and fell at an alarmingly rapid rate. Oh, Lord, she was going to explode.
“Don’t you tell me ‘It’s good to see you, Ms. Ella,’ when you know you tried to sneak by my desk! I wasn’t born yesterday child!”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Ella. I did want to speak to you, but…” I trailed off and gestured to my ripped and dirty attire. “Just look at me; I’m a mess. I wanted to get upstairs without getting anymore stares from strangers.”
“Humph. There ain’t no strangers here, Miranda. We’re all family, or at least I thought we were.”
Feeling doubly guilty now, I caved. “You’re right, Ella. You are family, and so is Mrs. Edith upstairs.” I smiled sadly, “It’s just been a tough morning.”
Instantly, Ella’s face softened, and before I knew what was happening, she scooped me up in a hug that would do a mama bear proud. “Ah, Lord, child, I forgot you had court with the Judge this morning.”
She shook her head and sent her corkscrew curls bouncing about in a mad jumble. “Say no more; I understand. Judge Merryweather can be a bit too opinionated for his own good. He says what he wants, and everyone can just be damned.”
Having said that louder than she probably should have, she cast a furtive look about the lobby to make sure no other lawyers were around who might take that tidbit of gossip back to the Judge. Lucky for Ella, only Marcus and I were in the lobby.
I glanced at Marcus, who was having a hard time keeping a straight face. He gave it up when he caught my eye and chuckled, “Ella, you do tickle me.”
Ella blushed, “Well, now sir, I’ll take that as a compliment coming from you, Marcus.”
Marcus grinned, “You had better.”
He leaned conspiratorially close to Ella and whispered, “What do you say we get this girl safe and sound upstairs?”
Ella looked at me again. Her serious eyes gave the distinct impression that she was taking in every cut that oozed blood and every tear in my clothing. I knew from experienced that her sharp eyes missed nothing. She nodded, “You go on ahead, sir; I’ll call Edith and let her know you are on the way up.”
Ella scooted back to her desk and was dialing the phone before Marcus and I even made it in the elevator. Sure enough once the doors opened on the third floor to reveal the Law Offices of Marcus Redding, his long-time secretary, Edith, was waiting for us on the landing.
Edith was a slim woman in her early sixties. Like so many of the other ladies of my acquaintance, she was a southern lady. This morning she was dressed in a skirted business suit in a shade of periwinkle that suited her complexion perfectly. I hazarded an inconspicuous glance down to her feet, and surely enough they were in sensible heels. I groaned to myself; even the elderly had more grace than I!
A quick assessment of her attire was all I had time for before she burst out of her normally proper shell, “My God, Miranda! I had no idea divorce court was a full contact sport these days!”
I knew how I looked in my ragged state, “Neither did I Mrs. E, but you should know that I came out on top….Just wait till you see the other guy!”
Mrs. E’s face clouded with confusion. She looked to Marcus, “What is she talking about, Marcus?”
“You know, Miranda, Mrs. E. She is always trying to make a bad situation better. How she manages it, I haven’t a clue.”
Mrs. E turned her five mile stare on me. I was no match for her; many people with a much stronger resolve than I crumbled beneath her no-nonsense gaze. I huffed, “Fine, I almost got run over by some crazy tourist this morning outside the courthouse.”
“What! Who was it?”
“I don’t know, Mrs. E; they didn’t even stop.”
“You mean they just drove on by like nothing had happened?” she asked aghast.
“Yep. In fact, they never even slowed down. It was like they didn’t even see me standing there. It was lucky for me that….” I trailed off. Oops, I had put my foot in it now.
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“Lucky for you what, dear? How did you get out of the path of that car?”
“Uhmm…Flynn pulled me out of the way,” I volunteered grudgingly.
“Oh, dear. Well, that does make one wonder, now doesn’t it, Marcus?”
I looked from one face to the next, “Wonder what?”
Mrs. E looked back at me through wide eyes, “Why would someone want to harm you, dear?”
I swayed on my feet and did what I swore I would never do, I fainted. It was not like in the movies. A black wave swelled up to block my vision, and then my knees buckled. There was no dashing young gentleman to catch me on the way down, so I landed with an uncomfortably hard thud on the office floor. And there it was, fate confirming for me once again that my life was no fairytale.