Junior Year Box Set

Once everyone was seated, Mr. Fox, Cal, and Pam made their grand entrance. Pam wouldn’t even look at me, and as soon as she was in her chair, she stared down at the table. Her body language just screamed that she didn’t want to be here. For that matter, I didn’t either. I also noticed that Pam hadn’t worn any makeup, and her black eye was visible. Mr. Fox sneered at me when he saw I noticed, and I about ended his life right then and there, but my mom grabbed my arm when I stiffened. Cal had a big smile on his face when he thought they had scored points by getting me upset so easily. I took a moment to push my anger down. I vowed I would not give them the satisfaction of getting to me again.

“I want to thank everyone for coming today. I think we need to establish some ground rules before we get started,” Don Rigby said.

“Mr. Rigby, let’s make this simple: you and the rest of your staff sit quietly and observe,” Ms. Dixon said.

“But we’re here to help facilitate a satisfactory outcome for everyone,” Don sputtered.

“Don, we’ve hired Ms. Dixon to represent David in this matter. Let her do her job,” Dad said.

“Okay, Mr. Fox, let’s hear what you want,” Ms. Dixon said. “But since Rigby, Thompson and Associates have representatives here as observers, I also want it explicitly understood this meeting will not be confidential, and that anything said or disclosed here will not necessarily be treated as confidential and may be used in appropriate proceedings and venues.”

Tom, Don, and Roy looked startled at this, and Don looked like he was going to say something, but apparently decided it best to sit back and keep his mouth shut. He definitely wanted to be there. The sad part was, it was solely to protect his firm, and not to protect me, their client.

“Fine by me,” Mr. Fox said as he smirked.

I think he planned to shout the results of this meeting from the rooftops. Cal, to his credit, didn’t seem so sure of this revelation but didn’t say anything.

Ms. Dixon’s abrupt manner still had Mr. Fox a bit off-kilter, but this wasn’t Cal’s first big case. It quickly became clear that Mr. Fox merely served as window dressing. Cal ignored him and started to negotiate directly with Ms. Dixon. Over the next hour, it became clear that Cal expected that I foot the bill for all of Pam’s medical expenses during the pregnancy. He also wanted me to pay for any maternity clothes or any other items she might need. Once the baby was born, I would be responsible for child support to the tune of 35 percent of my income, a full 10 to 15 percent higher than was customary. I would also have no visitation rights.

Ms. Dixon calmly took all this in and started to probe Cal. Her questioning revealed that Pam was covered under their current medical plan.

“Mr. Bell, you need to be more honest in your negotiations, or we’ll do this the hard way, and you can take us to court. Of course, that means you won’t get a penny until paternity can be established,” Ms. Dixon asserted.

Over the next hour, I learned that lawyers could and would argue about anything and everything. Truthfully, I zoned out. I was half-listening when Mr. Fox interrupted.

“That’s not right,” he said, and then quoted a figure for something.

“Where did you get that figure?” Dad asked, perplexed.

“It’s right here,” he said and handed Dad a sheet of paper. Dad glanced at it, then looked at it closely, puzzled, and passed it to me.

“Have you ever seen this before?”

Cal lunged for the sheet, but I pulled it back out of reach and examined it. It looked like one of the spreadsheets I’d seen when we’d come to the firm to get the financial information to support the loan on my farm. Then I looked at the bottom, and my eyes froze. It had the same type of coding I’d seen on the backup financials Megan, one of Kendal’s helpers, had insisted on shredding in my presence at the end of that meeting.

“Dad, this is from the confidential financial information on my earnings maintained by Rigby, Thompson and Associates. There shouldn’t even be a hard copy of this generated—it was all on the firm’s computers—and I sure don’t have a copy of it.”

Cal started to come around the conference table.

“Let me have that back,” Cal said and held out his hand.

Ms. Dixon stood up and came around so she stood in his way with her arm raised. It was hard to believe such a diminutive woman could be so intimidating.

“Stop right now, or I’ll call the police into this little conference. From what David’s just said, this isn’t yours at all, it’s David’s,” she said and then turned to Don Rigby. “The question is, how did Mr. Bell and his attorney come to have it?”

Don, Roy, and Mr. Fox all seemed to shrink a bit under her glare.

“David, can I have that, please?” Ms. Dixon asked me, holding her hand out without even glancing away from Don. I handed the page to her.

Ms. Dixon turned to my dad.