Mean Woman Blues

Lawyers ought to be up by then— he could call them at home, while they were picking out the power tie of the day.
    At four, the phone rang. “Isaac? Isaac, I’m freezing.”
    “Terri, I’m really sorry; they wouldn’t let me talk to you, or anything. I can’t bail you out until a judge sets bond, which they said will be at ten a.m.” He didn’t mention the “four at the latest” part.
    “I’m so cold. It’s about forty degrees in here. Isaac, why did you lie to me about going home for Mother’s Day?”
    He couldn’t speak; he felt so helpless. No way could he tell her. He said, “Let’s talk about it later. I’ve got to focus on getting you out.”
    She sighed. She was in no position to argue. “They just booked me a few minutes ago. I have the place where I’ll be: JPSO. Wait a minute, that’s not it. CDC Section J.”
    “I’ll be there, Terri. They said you’re in for forgery.” He blurted the last before he could stop himself.
    “That’s what they told me at first too. Now I’ve got an official blue slip that says the charge. Are you ready for this? It’s bank fraud.”
    “Bank fraud. What does that mean?”
    “I wish I knew. Bank fraud! Me! I can’t even balance my checkbook; how would I figure out a bank fraud?”
    That was reassuring, anyhow. “I’ll get you out,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you out. Whatever happens I’ll be there at ten a.m.”
    “Thanks.” There was so much gratitude in her voice he felt his chest get tight. Dammit, if there were just something he could do! There wasn’t, not till tomorrow at seven, but the anticipation of it was so strong he couldn’t go back to sleep.
    He got up at six, and, to Lovelace’s surprise, made her breakfast. She had been asleep when he came back from the lockup. “Get her out?” she asked.
    “I couldn’t; bond hadn’t been set.”
    “I thought she got stopped on a brake tag… she called right after you left.”
    “That might be why they stopped her, but she’s in for bank fraud.”
    Lovelace brushed red-blonde hair from her eyes. “My God. What did she do?”
    “She says she doesn’t know. Want me to make you some grits?”
    “Sure.”
    They ate in near silence. Isaac’s stomach was in knots, with worry about Terri and regret that Lovelace was leaving. As always when she left, Lovelace seemed sad too. In a way, it would have been better if he’d let her sneak away in her taxi, but in another way, he wanted to prolong their time together. He understood why people hated good-byes, though he found them indispensable.
    Eventually, they got through theirs, with promises to see each other soon, and Isaac got out the phone book. First he called every lawyer specializing in criminal defense who also had a listed home number. Not one of them answered the phone, and he didn’t blame them; with that kind of clientele, he wasn’t sure why they were even listed. Next, he started calling their offices. Finally, he found one open, that of a Mr. Alvin Puglia. He poured it all out to the receptionist. “Listen, I have an emergency. A friend’s been arrested, and she’s going to be in court at ten o’clock. Could I please speak to Mr. Puglia?”
    The lady couldn’t have been nicer. “Oh, my goodness. I’m afraid he’s not in yet.” She paused, and Isaac could see her looking at a clock. “He’s usually in by now. Shall I have him call you?”
    “Could you, please? My name’s Isaac James.”
    Isaac hung up, feeling anxious. He needed to move around. He went to take his shower and, to his surprise, found that a normal shower wasn’t enough.
    “Oh, no,” he thought. “There isn’t time for this.” But there was no way around it. He had to stand in the shower until the hot water ran out.
    He called the lawyer’s office again, and still Puglia wasn’t in. So, very carefully, he dressed for court. He had no tie and, in fact, no summer sport coat. He had a tweed one, for winter, but it was boiling outside. What to do? Had to wear it. No choice. He couldn’t go to court in shirtsleeves. Terri deserved better than that.
    It was after nine. Once again, he called Puglia. He still wasn’t in. Isaac wondered if he should try to get another lawyer but decided it was too late. He’d have to go to court alone. Somebody had to be there.
    “Listen,” he said to the receptionist. “I’ll call from the courthouse. Can you tell me where it is?”
    She hollered the question to someone else in the office,