A Lawyer She Could Trust
Her daddy was a doctor and he had a particular hatred for lawyers. He said they were half of the reason that he'd come to hate a job he'd once loved. The other half of was made up of politicians, but they'd started out as lawyers anyway.
Her mom was a free-spirit turned house-wife that had dabbled on the Broadway stage for a few years. She didn't have any more love than her husband did for the long hours, the heavy study, or anything else that came with a major law firm. She thought they were over-paid to take other people's money.
So it was no surprise that her parents were not pleased when she called them up and informed them that her new job was answering phones for a large law firm in the middle of Manhattan. She could do better than that, they said. She wouldn't be able to trust a thing her employers told her, because, after all, not a word they said was true. No lawyer could give you a straight answer and no lawyer would miss a chance to lead you around in circles. They were all corrupt, her daddy reminded her, and he didn't want his only little girl following suite.
Years later, she thought that some of what they said might be true. With the way office politics were heightened to grander levels than she thought possible and everyone seemed to be working the knife a little deeper into someone else's back, she wondered, at times, how much she'd changed as well just to fit in there.
But then she looked behind her, through the glass to where that man sat, bent over his desk, shoulders hunched, fixing the wrongs that he was ripping himself apart for. It was well passed the hour that most others had gone home, but she stood by his side, staying well into the morning to do anything that he needed, even if it was just for a little encouragement. She would always be there because he was the one lawyer she could always trust.
