You guys, this is another chapter in which I seem to have found all the words! There's just so much great stuff in this episode, plus I wanted to add a little twist of my own at the end. ;) I still own nothing, I'm still grateful beyond words to everyone who is reading and reviewing, and I thank you all for hanging with me...
Chapter 7 - Innocence
Mike Cutter watched the retreating form of his old mentor as she left his office. Just minutes before, he had been enjoying their normal in-office dinner of take out Chinese with Connie, once again filled with confidence at the prospects for their case. Now, he was filled with dread and had lost his appetite. There were a million thoughts rushing through his head, jumping straight to the worst case scenario. A scenario which could be very, very bad. Connie's voice broke into his thoughts.
"Am I just hearing things, or did she just threaten you?"
Mike turned and read genuine concern on Connie's face. For a split second, he thought about telling her, and just as quickly dismissed it. If she knew his secret it would just put her in a precarious position of her own. So he played it off.
"Nah, that's just standard defense lawyer shtick," he said. "Don't worry about it."
Connie watched him for a long moment as he sat back down, noticing that he never quite met her eyes as he spoke. He seemed distracted as they finished eating and got back to work. The evening stretched on, until finally they got to what seemed as good a place as any to call it a day. As they left the building and neared Connie's subway stop, she paused on the sidewalk and finally asked him, "Are you sure you're okay?"
Mike tried to smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, just….headache," he said evasively.
Connie smiled at him. "Go home, take some Ibuprofen, and get some sleep," she told him, "please?"
He finally gave her a genuine smile. "I'll try," he whispered. Connie took his arm as they continued on toward her subway stop. Mike left her there with a gentle kiss and a whispered, "I love you," both of which Connie returned in kind. He watched as she descended the stairs that would take her to her train. And then he did something that he had not done in months.
He went back to the office, alone.
Finally, something was going their way. Judge Braden had granted their motion for the academic records for the students who worked for Emily Ryan. Mike and Connie had spent the morning pouring over them. There was definitely a pattern, as Mike had expected. He was presenting his theory to Jack.
"There's pressure on these kids to overturn convictions. And her tacit reward system, it - it fosters a culture of over-zealousness," Mike told Jack and Connie. "And - and Emily, she finds the way in."
Jack looked at him kindly. "I assume you're speaking from experience."
"Yeah," Mike said with a sigh. "She knew I had nowhere to go for the holidays, and she used to invite me to her house for Thanksgiving with her husband, and Christmas dinner, and I would have run into bullets for her!"
"And this is how you repay her kindness?" Jack asked. Connie watched the interaction between the two men. She knew Jack's question was meant to make Mike pause, to stop and think for a moment. This case had been like a roller coaster ride for Mike. She had watched his confidence rise and fall. And although he seemed to be back on track, Connie couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else going on, that Mike was hiding something. She listened as Mike continued to present his evidence about the four students who were working on the Stuber case, and the letters of recommendation they had received.
"And you're planning on introducing all of this at Stuber's new trial?" Connie asked.
"Forget the retrial!" Mike said ardently. "We'll move for a hearing to see how far Ryan's students went to manufacture a wrongful conviction here. Judge Braden can reinstate the jury verdict."
Jack nodded his approval. "Get to work on it," he said, then left them alone as he returned to his own office.
Mike let out a deep breath he had not realized he was holding. He had felt a little bit like he'd been holding his breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, since Emily Ryan came on the scene. He knew Connie could tell there was something more than just the frustration of this case weighing on him. He felt Connie come up behind him, speaking quietly in his ear.
"I'll go get started on the motion paperwork," she said, then continued in a whisper, "and Mike, from now on you will always have somewhere to go for Thanksgiving and Christmas." She squeezed his shoulder as she made her way past him. A feeling of warmth shot through him, her words and the feeling behind them easing a fair amount of his tension.
"Connie," he called after her. She turned in the doorway as he continued, "thanks."
She just smiled at him with a nod before heading to her own desk to start writing their motion. Mike watched her go, once again thanking God, the universe, and anyone else who'd had a hand in bringing her into his life.
All of the confidence that Mike had felt two days ago had deserted him. It started the moment Emily Ryan announced in open court that he was not a real lawyer. It continued when he'd had to explain to Jack and Connie how he had failed to actually secure his undergraduate degree before he started law school, and had failed to rectify this mistake at any point since then. It was only made worse later that night when Connie had pressed him and he'd confessed that his three colleges in four years was his attempt to distance himself from his father, who had decided to suddenly reappear in his life, and his mother, with whom he'd had a falling out over his "lack of direction" in his studies. It was not a time in his life that he really ever wanted to talk about, so it didn't take long for his irritation to bleed through in their conversation. Connie knew he wasn't really upset with her. He had apologized for being such poor company when she headed home early. She told him not to worry, that she wasn't great company herself as she hadn't been feeling well most of the day anyway.
The last shreds of his tenacity slipped away as he sat in Judge Braden's chambers. The judge's words, "Mr. Cutter, I am very disappointed in this turn of events," were an echo of his mother from long ago.
Which is why he had promptly disappeared to a local bar. He thought he had chosen carefully enough that Connie wouldn't find him. He should have known better. He glanced up as she sat down next to him.
"How many have you had?" she asked.
"This is four and two,"Mike said, tapping in turn the rims of the shot glass of whiskey and the tall glass of beer in front of him.
"Mike," Connie said on a sigh.
Trying to change the subject, Mike waved down the bartender. "Let me get you something," he said to Connie.
"Ginger ale," she told the bartender.
Mike looked at her quizzically, then shrugged it off, deciding that maybe it was a good idea for one of them to be sober and knowing that ship had long since sailed for him. "How'd you find me?" he asked instead.
"You brought me here once last fall when we were working on the appeals," she told him. "You told me it was your favorite bar to disappear in."
Mike nodded, taking another swallow of his beer. "Nothing like having yourself exposed as a monumental screw up by your old mentor, in front of a judge, your current mentor, and your girlfriend," he said, giving her a sardonic smile. "So I thought I'd drink a little."
Connie leaned closer to him with her elbow on the bar. "You were 21. You made a mistake."
"I just raked a law student over the coals for having poor judgement," he said, downing the shot of whiskey in front of him.
Time for some hard truth, Connie thought. "Well, maybe you should never have gone after the clinic," she told him matter of factly.
The whiskey burned his throat as he swallowed. He dropped the glass on the bar and turned to her. "I didn't have a choice," he argued. "Their witness was lying."
"And you had a chance to show up your mentor," Connie challenged.
"That had nothing to do with it." Mike protested.
"Really?" Connie said, giving him a disbelieving look. "Mike."
Mike stared at her for a heartbeat. For just a moment, he had forgotten that he was talking to the person who knew him better than anyone else. A new wave of despair washed over him. When would he learn to keep his ego in check? "Jack's gonna fire me," he said, looking back down at the bar.
"You're being paranoid," Connie tried to soothe, resting her elbow on the bar once again.
"I'd fire me," Mike said. "Who knows if they'll let me keep my license."
Connie watched him as his eyes fixed on the empty shot glass that he was turning in circles on the bar. He looked lost, and she knew she needed to get him out of there before he spiraled downward even further. She took the glass from his hand, moving it away as she reached for her purse. She dropped some bills on the bar, then took his arm. "Come on," she said. "Time to go."
Mike showed no resistance as Connie led him out of the bar and got them a cab. Once she had helped him stumble into the backseat, she gave the driver her address. That last shot of whiskey was beginning to hit him hard. Mike leaned his forehead on her shoulder. "I'm sorry Connie," he said. "I'm sorry I'm such a damn screw up and I'm sorry I'm not a real damn lawyer, and I'm sorry I don't even have a damn college degree." He didn't look up as he continued. "And I'm really sorry I kept all this a secret from you. I'm such an ass."
She turned and kissed his forehead. "You're not a screw up or an ass," she told him. "And as for everything else, we'll figure it out."
They made it to her building and Connie was successful in getting Mike upstairs and to her bed before he passed out. Connie watched him for a moment. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry as she thought about Mike's drunken apology, especially the part about keeping things a secret.
Truth be told, Connie had begun to suspect earlier in the week that she may have a secret that would blow his out of the water, and change both of their lives.
Mike awoke the next morning with the mother of all hangovers. He laid still for a moment, afraid to open his eyes and inflict more pain on his already pounding head. Finally, he reluctantly eased his eyes open. It took him only a moment to register that he was in Connie's bed instead of his own. He vaguely remembered waking up at one point in the middle of the night and wrapping his arms around Connie to pull her close before going right back to sleep. The events from the day before came rushing back. Mike closed his eyes again with a groan, realizing it wasn't all a bad dream. He laid there for a few more minutes before he gingerly eased out of bed and headed to the bathroom, then followed the scent of coffee towards the kitchen.
He found Connie at her kitchen table, her hair pulled back out of her face with a clip, drinking a glass of milk and reading the Saturday morning paper, a half eaten piece of plain toast next to her. Mike shuffled toward her, eyes squinting against the light, and ran a hand through his hair.
Connie looked up with a smile. "Michael Cutter, as I live and breathe," she teased.
He gave her a tight smile as he sat down across from her. "Coffee?" he asked pleadingly.
Connie shook her head. "Nope," she said, crossing to the sink and filling a glass with water. She then brought the glass and two small pills back to him. "Water and Advil first, then coffee. You'll thank me later," she told him.
Mike grimaced, but did as he was told, draining the glass. Connie kissed him on top of the head, then took the empty glass, replacing it with a mug of black coffee. Mike took a long drink, then placed the mug back on the table to reach out and grab Connie around the waist as she moved past him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to stand between his knees and laying his head on her chest. "I'm beginning to lose count of the number of times I've said this to you lately, but I'm sorry about last night," he said quietly.
Connie smiled, running one hand across his back and the other through his hair. "Under the same circumstances, I think I would have done exactly what you did." She took a step back so he could look up at her. Mike kept his hands around her waist and Connie kept her hands on his shoulders. "We'll get this figured out, okay?"
Mike simply nodded. He then stood up and took her in his arms. "Thank you," he whispered into her hair.
Mike sat on his couch, his head leaned back and his eyes closed. What a complicated couple of weeks this had turned into, especially the past two days. The beginning of the end of the ordeal with Emily Ryan started with Jack directing him to make a plea deal with Cedric Stuber. Mike was incensed, but when Jack essentially told him make the deal or start looking for another job, he acquiesced. The meeting with Stuber and Emily Ryan at Rikers started off with Stuber taunting Mike about whether or not he could even make a deal since he wasn't a real lawyer. Connie immediately jumped to Mike's defense and cut Stuber off, which led to him slinging a racial slur at her. And that was all it took to push Mike over the edge. He was infuriated by what Stuber had said to Connie, and he snapped. The anger, rage, and anxiety that had been simmering within him for the past several days finally bubbled to the surface. He went off on Stuber, getting right in his face and telling him that he would make sure he died in prison. When it was all said and done, Stuber took their deal for 25 to life, rather than face a possible conviction for a hate crime that could lead to back to back life sentences. Connie put a hand on Mike's arm to pull him out of the room. They wordlessly left the correctional facility, Mike driving them back to the office. Connie could see him clenching his jaw tightly, still trying to get his anger under control. They made it to the bridge before Connie finally broke the silence.
"Are you okay?"
Mike let out a deep breath. "How many times have you asked me that lately?"
"Well, you're having a little bit of a week," Connie replied.
"When he opened his mouth and said...that to you," Mike shrugged, glancing at her quickly before his eyes returned to the road. "I know you don't need me to defend you, but it just pushed me over the edge. I'm not going to let anyone talk to you, disrespect you, like that, especially someone like Stuber." He let out a sigh, then added quietly, "I've just had it with this whole situation."
She reached over and placed her left hand on his knee. "We're done with Cedric Stuber and Emily Ryan," she told him.
"Yeah," Mike said. "But I'm not out of the woods yet."
Which was true, but thankfully he didn't have to wait too long to learn his fate. He received word the following day. He would be reprimanded by the Bar Overseers, and a notice would be going into the law journal, but that was as far as it would go. All of the worry, all of the worst case scenarios that had been playing out in his head for the past week, he could now let it all go.
Mike was jarred out of his thoughts by his buzzer sounding. Frowning, he went over and pushed the button, pleasantly surprised to find that it was Connie. He opened the door and waited for her to arrive from downstairs, swooping in to kiss her soundly before she even got through the door. Connie reveled in it for a few seconds, then gently pushed him away.
"We need to talk," she said.
Uh oh, Mike thought. Nothing good comes from a sentence that starts with those words. He ushered her on in to his apartment, noticing that she seemed upset and nervous. He offered to take her coat, get her a drink, and tried to get her to take a seat with him on the couch, all of which she refused. She was pacing back and forth across the room, a small bag in her hands. Finally, Mike stood in her path and grabbed her elbows, stopping her momentum. "Connie," he asked with concern, "what's wrong?"
Connie looked in his eyes. God, she loved him, but this...this was going to change everything. She pulled away from him, walking over to the couch, knowing he would follow. Once they were both seated and facing each other, Connie chose her words carefully. "Do you remember, back when we first started….us?" she looked at him. "You said this could get complicated?" She paused, and then withdrew a small box from the bag she had been carrying and handed it to him. "I think it's about to get complicated."
Mike looked down at the box he now held in his hands.
It was a pregnancy test.
Cliffhanger! Cue maniacal laugh! Muahahaha! Don't worry - I won't leave you hanging too long!
