'I had forgotten how beautiful this walk is for lifting the spirit.'
'Does your spirit need lifting?'
'Honestly, Jacob, coming here today is a wonderful balm to unrecognized or maybe even unacknowledged inner turmoil, but I guess you knew that?'
Yes, and this walk is very affirming.'
'That's a great word. We should do affirmations every day but I kind of stick to my special room, instead of appreciating so many other opportunities.'
'Well, I for one am happy that we decided to do this walk. Our daughter got her wish and we have been uplifted by nature.'
'Oh Jacob, you are always so analytical and yet practical. Maybe that's why I love you so.'
Even as she said the words, Cathy turned and held her husband's hand, holding him in place. She felt a rise in desire, remembering the wonder of their previous walk and longed to stop and enjoy the moment. She would have to be quick. A look at her daughter's quickly moving body ahead didn't allow them to linger for long. In her shining eyes was the promise of love, to be enjoyed at another time.
It was neither warm nor cold. The sun was slowly sinking in front of them lengthening their shadows. Jacob remembered that Riley would soon be on the porch watching something that had been denied him, living below in the tunnels. The vision reminded Jacob to consider adding more sunlight hours to the children living below, as well as vitamins to their diet. He never ceased to be grateful for opportunities to learn.
The happy and contented couple also agreed to suspend any discussion about Hélène's plan for her music. Being able to organize and present the completed opera/musical would require quite a bit of planning. He knew that Cathy would bear much of the coordinating. Hélène was Canadian and had little insight into the services and legal matters necessary for a US presentation. He hoped Cathy would also engage his mother who understood, legally, what may be required to present a live theatre performance.
As the house came into view, he saw his daughter run back, uncertain about moving forward into a place that was still strange to her. As she did so, a shaft of light filtered through the clouds and seemed to find the little girl and her parents. It wasn't meant to warm or warn of any impending doom. It was merely a signal from above that all was well in this time and place.
Despite Jacob's wish to take the train back, Ledgister insisted on driving. It soon became clear that he and Cathy had some business to discuss. She sat up front on the drive, giving them an opportunity to talk while Jacob sat in the back with his daughter. There wasn't as much to see but some stars were visible in the quickening night sky. Before long Aislyn had fallen asleep and Jacob turned his attention to work and what would happen if Oats indeed took over from John Civco. Impending changes and how it would affect his own work played like a volleyball game in his highly practical headspace. With a sigh, he gave up trying to sort through future events and closed his own eyes, joining his daughter in a world of weird mental images.
…..
The next few days brought an assortment of complex issues to deal with. Catherine chose to engage fully with Hélène's project seeing it as a wonderful chance to help her old friend, Howard, achieve some internal resolution about his extraordinary family history. By mid-week, she had arranged a meeting with Hélène, Cathy, and Diana, along with two entertainment lawyers who would oversee the legalities of hiring, renting space and ensuring the safety of performers and crew. In the evening, it continued to be the main topic of conversation around the dinner table. Only a few words from Aislyn could sway the women from their excitement. Jacob and Vincent were left on the periphery where it seemed, no one cared.
'Do you ever feel dispensable Dad?'
Jacob's whisper was just loud enough to be heard by everyone and brought the women up short, before laughter followed.
'I know you ladies have this exciting project going but hey, we got stuff going too."
'I'm sorry honey. This is such an exciting project. The more we explore, the more excitement we feel.'
Catherine reached across the table and touched her son's hand. The apologetic smile was genuine.
'Okay, no more Broadway talk. Tell us about your day.'
'Broadway? Are you actually thinking you can get a theatre on Broadway?' Jacob was incredulous.
'Yes! A few strings here and there and we are good to go.'
Whatever Jacob or Vincent wanted to say was lost in the obvious excitement of a possible Broadway production that could in fact have longevity. That was an opportunity well worth talking about. There was much more but Catherine refused to go on. She and Cathy had truly and fully engaged with the project, but it shouldn't be at the expense of family talk time.
Jacob was finally able to relay the news of John Civco's retirement to his family. When he was new on the job, Civco had been promoted to his current position and under the guidance of Kurt Ootes, Jacob was given an extraordinary role; one that fit his skill level and time management. Now he was being offered another opportunity but felt much less excitement about replacing Oats in something that would surely drive him further away from the joy and challenges of managing the tunnel community in terms of health and wellness.
He spoke honestly and openly about his concerns.
'This is such a tremendous opportunity for you. I understand that it will probably create time constraints on all your other activities. Is that your main concern or do you not feel ready for the kind of leadership required?'
As usual, his mother got right to the heart of the matter.
'There are more senior defenders who deserve a chance. I like what I am doing. When Oats asked me a similar question a couple of years ago, I felt that it would be a chance to create a role using the best of me to help others. Now I would just be stepping into the shoes of two diverse-tempered men who have, in my opinion, successfully navigated the role. If I had a part in helping things to go well, I am proud of that but to be the boss doesn't feel like me…'
His voice trailed off leaving everyone at the table stunned. Jacob had already indicated to his wife that he was not going to accept, but a week filled with Oats giving him looks forced a reversal in his outright denial.
'Is there anyone in the Department now who could do the job well, accept your role as is, and still command the respect of his coworkers?'
'I didn't really give it a thought, Mama. I just felt it shouldn't be me. Now that you mention it, I may discuss it with Oats, from that perspective, and offer my support in choosing from any one of 5 men and women who could assume the role'.
'I like your thinking. You did not exclude a woman.'
Jacob was lost in thought. He had to admit to himself that very few women crossed his path. Mostly they seemed to prefer the Prosecutorial side of the law. Even now he could only picture one or two within the department. Neither would be ready for that role. The inevitable pull of the Broadway show drew the conversation back to Hélène and her project, but Jacob's mind stayed on the idea of helping to choose a worthy and qualified successor for Oats.
…..
Following his family declaration, Jacob stayed well out of the way. He got to work earlier than usual, stayed in his office unless someone required his help and often went to work in the library, doing research, a job clearly designed for his assistant Ziggy.
'You aren't foolin' anyone, you know. Why are you hiding? Do you want the job or not?'
'I'm pretty sure it's a big NOT! I don't even want to be asked. Let them find someone who really wants a chance.'
Ziggy laughed loudly. 'You may be sorry.'
Jacob sent his assistant an innocent look before resuming his careful study of an upcoming case.
Later that day, Jacob heard a knock on the door. Ziggy had returned to his office upstairs. Few people ever knocked, especially his boss who now stood in the doorway, a big smile on his face. Partially hidden behind his large frame was a woman of stature, beautiful dark curly hair, brownish green eyes, red lips and a frozen smile on her face. Jacob's first thought was not about the intrusion but a fleeting memory of another woman with a similar smile who had been determined to blow his life away!
Jacob stood as good manners dictated and waited for Oats to make the introduction.
'Jacob Wells, Portia Mansfield'. Jacob was reluctant to do a handshake. He stilled his energy and waited to see if she extended a hand. She did not. He nodded politely.
'Ms. Mansfield is in line for my job. She has been presented with an offer and we are waiting for her response. We are just passing through, giving her an idea of the layout of the office.'
'What do you do here?' The tone was precise and cold.
Jacob noted that even Oats moved himself away as if the frost could touch his person.
'I am a research analyst. My job is to look through incoming cases and research information and details that the Lawyers may need in their defence preparation. I also do a weekly review of an unusual or meaningful case so that we can all learn from mistakes made or a job well done.'
'Aren't the defence counsellors supposed to do their own work?'
'In an office as busy as this one, every contribution to the quick and efficient turnover of cases brings justice closer to our innocent clients and resolution to those who must serve time. When I took over here the backlog was almost a year. Now it is 3-4 weeks.'
'I see.'
But do you? Jacob thought with a half smile on his face.
Without another word, she bid a terse goodbye indicating that she had enough and moved on. Jacob barely heard the -where to next- before resuming his own work. He could feel Oat's eyes boring into his back but refused to turn and acknowledge the very stilted meeting.
There was no escaping the inevitable, however. This time, there was no polite knock on the door. Jacob swivelled in his seat prepared to face his huffing and puffing boss.
'I can't believe it! Yes, A woman would be a nice change around here but she is…needs… I don't know.'
'You realize that she may soon be my boss?'
'Yes, but I will be her boss too and that prospect doesn't please me in the least.'
'Who is the final decision maker?"
'John of course and a committee of civil servants. I am almost on the edge of staying here but part of me would like to see what changes I could make that might help the department progress a bit further.'
It was a very real desire to make things better but then if there is a reluctant partner in the process, change could be limited.
''Wanting to make a change and actually doing it are two different things.'
'Beyond your words, I sense that you are disapproving of our latest candidate.'
'Ootes, I don't disapprove one way or the other and would as you know do my best to work with whoever is in the job. I can be adaptable and adjust as needed but frankly, I would not like having to put a lot of effort into pleasing one person when there are so many of us. Just an opinion.'
'I can appreciate what you are saying. I understand perfectly well that you have sensed her 'reluctance' to appear too gung-ho right now, but she may be quite nervous and just responding in a way that speaks of power. And don't look so surprised that I can actually discern unacceptable behaviours. I just prefer to keep it on an even keel until I have a good reason to shift.'
'Well, the decision will be made whether I like it or not. I will do my best to accommodate the needs of anyone who gets the job.'
'You do know that your position is safe?'
'I wasn't worried. I can always work within some boundaries if I have to…. for the good of everyone.'
'You always know just what to say, huh?'
Jacob gave no response beyond the nod of his head. Ootes was gone in a heartbeat. Whatever the future might hold changes were coming.
To everyone's surprise, there was a parade of young and older candidates who passed through the department with Ootes or John Civco. Some were overly friendly, others quiet and standoffish, and some dismissive of the clerks and lawyers who they would be leading. None however left as much of a lasting impression as Portia Mansfield. In the end, she was appointed to the post and would begin within two weeks of her confirmation.
Despite sensing that she would be the likely candidate, Jacob did not discuss her much, either with his wife or mother. The ongoing challenge of the Musical show continued to occupy their time to the exclusion of almost everything else. The new department head had a start date on the first of the month, a mid-week beginning. With a flurry born of fear, the public defenders sorted and cleaned up the offices, completed as much work as possible and adjusted their behaviours from the tough love attitude of Ootes to the quietly understated expectations of the new bureau chief. While she had been back to visit and engage a bit with staff, her frostiness somewhat abated, she made it clear that work was her priority. Clients must be dealt with quickly and moved on to their follow-up, whether jail or charges dismissed. 'We cannot afford to delay resolution on anyone's future whether good or bad,' she stated, undeterred by a workload that was almost triple her previous post.
Jacob could see no reason why John Civco had made her his final choice, but almost all the lawyers needed their job and took her words to heart. Since Jacob knew that the department had already improved its capability immensely, he felt slighted, an unusual feeling and one he tried to dismiss even as Portia Mansfield settled herself in Ootes office following a complete remodelling of the wholly masculine furniture.
For once, he resolved to let lawyering be the lesser of his two jobs. He knew that he could leave at any time and do any number of things that would be worthwhile. The thought crossed his mind many times even before the arrival of Portia Mansfield. He never really had a good reason to go. Ootes held a special place in his heart and head, a place that no one else could fulfill. As a surrogate Dad to Cathy, Jacob would always be grateful for the many times when Ootes helped out, stood up or been supportive in a crisis. He would still be a big part of the Public Defender's office. Maybe I just hate change, he thought and resolved to be a good worker rather than a do-gooder, at least in the Public Defender's office.