Tides of Truth [03] Greater Love (12 page)

When she finished, Jessie darted out of the alley and ran all the way to the river. She stopped not far from the old Cotton Exchange where she sat on a bench and enjoyed the early morning sun as it welcomed her to her first day on her own in Savannah.

Finding a pen that contained three different colors of ink on the ground, Jessie took out the sheet of paper with the gibberish on it from the pouch and, on the clean side, designed an intricate tattoo. When she finished she laid the piece of paper across her right thigh.

It fit perfectly.

I
DIDN’T IMMEDIATELY CALL
M
R.
C
ARPENTER.
A
FTER TALKING TO
Maggie, I took a thirty-minute break to pray, compose myself, and tweak the notes I’d prepared for the conversation.

The direct line to Mr. Carpenter’s office rang to his secretary, an aloof woman with considerable clerical skill. To her, summer clerks were a nuisance barely tolerated. I recognized her slightly nasal voice.

“This is Tami Taylor. May I speak to Mr. Carpenter?”

“Hi, Tami, how is school going?” the woman asked with a friendliness that caught me off guard. “We look forward to seeing you after graduation.”

“Uh, thanks. Is Mr. Carpenter available?”

“Let me check.”

While I waited on hold, I reviewed my notes. My plan was to be as precise as possible. I’d communicate my appreciation for the job offer, tell Mr. Carpenter I’d made a mistake accepting it, apologize, and ask for his forgiveness. If Mr. Carpenter asked any follow-up questions, I’d simply reiterate that I’d given the offer a lot of serious consideration and prayer. I was halfway through the review of my notes when Mr. Carpenter’s smooth Southern drawl, which oozed aristocratic education, came onto the line.

“Tami, your name was mentioned in conversation yesterday. You remember Jason Paulding, the developer who sued that crazy woman preacher?”

“Yes, sir. I wanted to call and—”

“Did Zach tell you what happened to him?”

“No, sir.”

“Yesterday the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Atlanta granted Paulding immunity from prosecution in return for his cooperation and testimony in a sting operation originating in Miami. We weren’t handling the criminal matter, but the lawyer I referred him to called me to let me know what happened. It all started with the money trail you uncovered when you were working on the civil case.”

“I didn’t really uncover—”

“Who would have imagined that Paulding would end up helping the government prosecute Venezuelans illegally hiding oil profits in the U.S.? Your instincts about him were right on. You suspected all along more was going on than what he told us. That’s an ability that can’t be taught and usually comes with more life experience than you have. I credit your upbringing with giving you a much better than average ability to judge people. But enough about old business. Have you been in touch with Gerry Patrick to work out the details for your start date? I sent her a memo that you’d accepted our offer.”

“She’s not contacted me, but the reason I called today was to turn down the job.” I glanced in frustration at my notes. I was totally off script. “It’s, uh, not that I don’t appreciate the confidence you showed in offering me a position, but I’ve prayed about it, and I shouldn’t have told you that I wanted to come work for the firm. It’s my mistake, and I owe you an apology. I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.”

There was a brief pause.

“I must say this is a shock to me,” Mr. Carpenter replied in a carefully measured tone of voice. “I saw nothing but a bright future for you here at the firm. The partners and I discussed at our lunch meeting today the need to allow you appropriate leeway to accommodate your religious sensibilities.”

“You did?” It was my turn to be shocked. “All we talked about on Saturday was legal ethics.”

“I could tell it was a concern to you. And I also had the benefit of a helpful conversation with Oscar Callahan on Monday. He gave me good advice. Does he know about this?”

“No, sir.”

“He’ll be disappointed. Is this your final decision?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Best of luck to you.”

I slowly hung up the phone. The relief I’d expected to feel at delivering the news to Mr. Carpenter seemed as far away as the hills of Powell Station. I glanced at the clock. I had a lot of studying to do before the next day’s classes. Talking to Zach Mays could wait another day.

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING,
I
WENT BACK TO MY APARTMENT
after my first class to call Zach. I recognized the voice of the receptionist, a middle-aged woman who could give better directions than a GPS to anyplace in Savannah. She put me on hold for a couple of seconds.

“This is Zach Mays. Thanks so much for calling.”

“Zach? It’s Tami.”

“Uh-oh, I picked up the wrong line. Let me put you on hold while I take care of something important.”

Before I could speak, I was listening to the music on the firm’s phone system. It was a loop of light classical designed to soothe the frayed nerves of anxious clients. It didn’t work for me. My nerves were fraying more by the second. Fifteen minutes passed. Normally, I would have hung up and called back, but I waited five more minutes. That passed, and I extended it five more.

“Are you still there?” Zach asked.

“Should I have hung up?”

“Probably. I had to take a call from a solicitor in London who’s working with us on a contract for a British shipping company. The exchange rate is fluctuating so much it’s difficult to set a schedule that isn’t messed up by changes in currency valuations. We had to figure out the precise language for a provision that allows for the ups and downs in a way that should work over the long term.”

The line was silent for a moment.

“But you didn’t call about exchange rates, did you?” Zach asked.

“No.”

I told him about my conversation with Mr. Carpenter.

“Did you mention Sister Dabney?” Zach asked when I paused.

“No, he would have thought I was crazy.”

“Yeah.”

“Along with you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Zach answered. “We went over all this in the car.”

“But is it over?”

“My opinion that you’re making a mistake hasn’t changed, but I have to accept your decision and deal with it.”

I suddenly felt like a temperamental woman.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Did you talk to Maggie?”

“Yes, and she’s sent an employment contract.”

“Do you want me to review it?”

I thought about the starting salary and pitiful benefit package. I was too embarrassed to let Zach see it.

“No thanks; it’s nothing fancy.” I paused. “And I talked to my parents about the trip to California. They don’t think it’s a good idea. I would have liked to go but need to honor their wishes.”

I hoped my voice sounded sincere.

“That’s okay. I’d had second thoughts about it, too. If it’s supposed to happen there’ll be another chance in the future.”

“Sure.”

“Hey, I’m due for a meeting in the downstairs conference room with Mr. Appleby and a new client. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay.”

The call ended without a hint of a shiver down my spine or a single goose bump.

Z
ACH CALLED ME ONCE WHILE HE WAS IN
C
ALIFORNIA FOR THE
holidays. I was at home in Powell Station, and after we had a brief conversation, he talked to each member of my family. Ellie changed her voice to make it sound huskier. The result left Emma laughing and Mama rolling her eyes. I wasn’t in a laughing mood.

“Are you upset with us for not letting you go to California?” Mama asked after the call ended and we were alone in the front room.

“Not really,” I answered, giving her a hug. “When it comes to men, I’m not sure that I’m much further along than Ellie.”

I
RETURNED TO SCHOOL IN
J
ANUARY.
A
FTER THE SECOND DAY OF
classes, I came home to find a note attached to my door.

I’m in town for the evening. Could I take you to dinner? Please call.

Vince

He’d written his phone number on the bottom. I took the note inside and laid it on my computer desk. After pacing back and forth a few times, I picked up the note and stared at it again. Vince wrote in an easy-to-read print style that matched his organized personality.

He must have gotten my address in Athens from information I’d made available at Braddock, Appleby, and Carpenter. There could be no explanation for his being in town except to see me. That thought made me uneasy. I’d not received permission from Daddy and Mama to court Vince, and it would be completely inconsistent with the courting process to spend time with two men. My phone rang, causing me to jump.

“Hello?” I answered tentatively.

“Tami, it’s Vince. I’m in town for a few hours. Are you free for dinner?”

“Hey,” I answered, staring again at the slip of paper.

“I left a note on the door of your apartment but then thought I’d better call, since you might be staying at the law school to study.”

“I just got back to my apartment and found the note. How did you get my cell phone number?”

“Your father.”

“My father?”

“Yeah, I called information for Powell Station. I remembered that your father worked as a supervisor at a chicken plant and tracked him down. He told me that you finally got a cell phone.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“No, but the way he talked reminded me a little bit of you.”

I’d heard that comparison before.

“I know it’s short notice,” Vince continued, “but my connecting flight from Atlanta to Hartford was canceled, and I won’t be going back to school until morning.”

“You drove to Athens from the Atlanta airport to see me?”

“I rented a car. Look, if it’s not a good night, I’ll understand.”

I was torn between good manners and confusion over how to relate to Vince Colbert. I suddenly remembered a prior commitment.

“My intramural basketball team has its first practice tonight.”

It sounded like a ridiculous excuse as soon as the words escaped my mouth.

“I could watch and then we could grab something simple to eat,” he responded evenly.

“No,” I answered quickly. “I can miss the practice.”

The idea of Vince watching me run up and down and sweat on the basketball court would be neither good manners nor appropriate interaction with a man.

“Could you come around six?” I added. “I guess you know where I live.”

“Okay, six it is. Pick someplace casual where you like to hang out with your friends.”

“Okay.”

Later, as I brushed out my hair after shampooing it, I took comfort in knowing there was no chance of running into Zach in Athens.

At 6:00 p.m. there was a knock on the door. I opened it. Vince took a step back and smiled. He was about the same height as Zach, but more lanky. He had dark eyes and wavy brown hair. No ponytail sprouted from the back of his head. In his right hand, which had been scarred in a high school chemistry accident, Vince held a sleek, lightweight laptop. The computer was his constant companion.

“You brought your computer?”

“Nice to see you, too,” he answered.

“Sorry.” I laughed.

“I have some pictures I want to show you.”

It was cool outside. Vince helped me put on a long coat.

“Where to?” he asked as we walked across the parking lot.

I named a chain restaurant. Vince shook his head.

“Isn’t there someplace local?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something more Southern. There’s not much of that available near the Yale campus.”

“There’s a restaurant that’s famous for catfish, but I haven’t tried it.”

“You will tonight.”

The restaurant, named for the man who founded it, was located a few miles from the campus.

“Have you been in Savannah recently?” I asked as we left the parking lot.

“Yes. I drove down from Charleston for a couple of days after Christmas to finish a few projects Mr. Braddock sent me.”

“Was Zach at the office?”

“No, he was still in California.” Vince glanced at me. “But I’m sure you know that.”

“Not the exact dates.”

“I heard you made a trip to Savannah, too.”

“Yes. I turned down the job.”

“I know. Mr. Carpenter wanted me to explain it to him.”

“What did you say?”

“That I was sure you’d prayed about it and believed it was the right choice. He just shook his head and walked away. Faith inside the walls of the church is familiar. Making it a part of day-to-day life is from a different universe, especially for a man like him.”

“Did he know I’m going to work with Julie and Maggie Smith?”

“He didn’t mention it. Is that what you decided to do?”

“Yes.”

We stopped at a traffic light.

“How did you know it was the right choice?”

Vince rarely asked idle questions, and I didn’t give him a watereddown version. The only thing I left out was the strain the decision placed on my relationship with Zach. We were seated and sipping water at the restaurant by the time I completed my story.

“How much of this did you tell Mr. Carpenter?”

“None.”

Vince sipped his water. “It’s a good thing you didn’t accept the job at Braddock, Appleby, and Carpenter. You wouldn’t fit in the firm culture.”

“And you will?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

Vince smiled. “We’re not all called to the same mission field.”

Food was served buffet-style. The catfish were fried bone-in and served with a broad assortment of vegetables. For those who didn’t like fish there was crisp fried chicken. Vince piled a generous portion of collard greens onto his plate next to a heaping mound of squash casserole.

“Hungry?” I asked when we returned to our table.

“For the right kind of food. Collard greens aren’t considered a delicacy in some parts of the country.”

When he blessed the food, Vince quoted a few verses from Psalm 40 about the wonderful things God has planned for those who do his will. Whether for legal principles or Scripture, Vince had a very sticky memory.