THANKS A LOT!

   “Thanks a lot, Mr. Fawley.”

“Come in and sit down, Wheeler. Sarcasm was never your strong suit. So tell me, what’s on your mind?”

“It’s these briefs, sir. Why can’t Clarkson file them? We worked on them together. He knows what needs to be done as well as I do.”

“Clarkson’s busy performing legal research for the firm. So, no, he can’t go, nor can I spare anyone else. Listen, Wheeler, you’re filing. That’s the end of it!”

Wheeler leaned forward in his chair.

“Mr. Fawley, my marriage is in trouble. My wife, Marion, believes work takes up too much of my time. She feels I don’t spend enough time with her. It took months to convince her to go away with me to discuss saving our marriage. If we miss this flight because of me working late, I’m sure Marion will file for a divorce.” Then, tearfully, he added, “I can’t live without her, Mr. Fawley.”

         “I’m sorry about your marriage, Wheeler, but these briefs are important to this Law firm. They must be filed this afternoon by 2 o’clock.”

         “But, Mr. Fawley-.”

“No buts, Wheeler! Just file the damn briefs!”

Wheeler tucked the briefs under his arm and trotted back to his office. He plopped the briefs on the desk. He worried about checking the nine steps of the brief, driving to Prospect Heights, Brooklyn, picking up Marion, and arriving at the airport for a five o’clock departure..

When Wheeler finished proofreading the briefs, he glanced at his wristwatch. It was 2:30.  He gathered his belongings and hurried to the elevator. He repeatedly pressed the down button as if it would make the elevator come quicker.

“Excuse me, Mr. Wheeler.”  

Tony looked over his shoulder.  “Oh, hi Miss Turner. What can I do for you?”

“I… I was hoping you could help me understand the rationale of the Jones case. But, unfortunately, I’m appearing  before Judge Grant tomorrow morning, and I’ve sort of lost.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Turner. I’m in a hurry. I don’t have time to help you right now. Ask Bailey or Kraft.”

“I did, sir, but they recommended I speak with you.”

Tony checked the elevator car indicator.  He became anxious when he saw the elevator was on the next floor.

“Well, I appreciate your predicament, Kimberly, but I can’t help you. Do your best. I’m sure it’ll be alright.”

He entered the elevator, turned, and said, “Look, every young lawyer goes through these situations. So don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Okay, Mr. Wheeler. Gee, I hope you’re right.”

As the door closed, Tony watched Kimberly walk away, shoulders slumped, head bowed. Tony reached for the garage button, but his finger couldn’t push it.

“Damn!”

. Kimberly Turner sat behind her desk, re-reading her case for the fourth time. She looked up when her door opened.

“Mr. Wheeler. Is there something wrong, sir.?”

“No, Miss Turner,” he replied as he placed his briefcase down. “Let’s take a look at your case.”

Smiling, Kimberly ran over and hugged Tony.

She quickly stepped back. “Oh, my, Mr. Wheeler, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Kimberly. Let’s get to work.”

Fortunately for Tony, Kimberly understood more about the case than she realized. He explained a few minor points. After that, she was off and running,

It was 3:45 when Tony drove onto the entry ramp to the Brooklyn Bridge.

As he drove across the span, he knew what helping Kimberly might have cost him. He hoped that the traffic gods would be kind. And they were all the way onto the Brooklyn Queens Expressway. The traffic began to crawl along the expressway.

Tony looked at the dashboard clock. It was 4:10. He promised Marion he’d be home no later than 4. He voice dialed the car phone.

         “Marion, I’m on my way home, honey.”

         Coldy, she answered. “You said you’d be here by 4.”

         “I’m on my way, Marion. I’m on the BQE approaching the Prospect Park Expressway. I’ll be there in a min-“

         Marion hung up the phone.

         Tony double-parked in front of his apartment building. He jumped out of his car and ran into his house. Marion was sitting on the sofa in the living room, her leg bouncing on her knee.

         “Honey, we better get going. We got to get to Kennedy.’

Marion glared at him. Slowly, she stood and walked out the door. Tony reached down, grabbed her suitcases, and ran outside. Marion sat in the passenger seat, arms folded across her chest. Tony slid into the driver’s seat. He leaned over and tried to kiss her, but she turned and stared out of the window. Tony swallowed deeply, shook his head, and started the Land Rover,

The drive to the belt parkway ebbed and flowed.

“How was your day, Hon?”

She cut her eyes at him. She unfolded her arms long enough to check her watch, then looked at the dashboard clock.

“I said, how was-“

“My day was acceptable. Why are you late, Tony? Work, again? I thought this trip was important to you. Already, I’m sorry I agreed to go on this trip.”

“Please, Marion, I may be late, but I’m here for you now.”

“Really? Will you be here tomorrow? Or will work get in the way?”

“Marion, I have to work if we are going to maintain our lifestyle. You know I”m up for partner. I have to show the other partners that I’m willing to make personal sacrifices for the firm.’

“Am I included in that sacrifice? God, I don’t know why I consented to go on this trip.”

“Marion, I’m doing my best. But I worked too hard, too long to miss this opportunity. So please try to understand.”

“Let me tell you what I understand; if we miss our flight, our marriage is over. You have thirty-five minutes to get us to Kennedy.”

Tony looked at the clock. His eyes darted back and forth as he tried to maneuver his way through the slow-moving traffic. Then, finally, around Rockaway Boulevard, the traffic opened up. Tony relaxed. His fingers ached from his tight grip on the wheel. He flexed the stiffness out of his fingers. It was then he saw his face glistened with sweat. A trickle of sweat rolled down his back and settled at the ed=nd of his spine. Once and awhile, he glanced at Marion or her reflection in the window. Her sour expression never changed. By some miracle, they pulled into the long-term parking lot by 4:45. Hawaiian Airlines was across from the parking area.

Tony lept from the car, pulled the luggage out of his trunk, and jogged towards the Hawaiian terminal. Marion wasn’t a jogger, but she managed to stay a few feet behind. Tony looked up at the clock. It was 4:59.

“Hurry, Marion! Hurry!”

“Ticket, please,’ the clerk politely asked.

By the time Marion caught up with Tony, he was sitting on the bench. She stood over him.

“What happened?”

Tony pointed to the plane sitting on the runway. “That’s our plane, Flight 193 to Honolulu. We missed it.”

“Why am I not surprised? I knew you’d do something to ruin this trip. You have…”

As Marion droned on, Tony thought about the events of the day that got him to this minute. Maybe if he had been sterner with Mr. Fawley, Maybe if he had read those briefs faster. Perhaps if he didn’t stop to help stressed-out Kimberly. Maybe, perhaps, well, it didn’t matter. He had a chance, and he blew it.

“Take me home, Anthony. I’ll marriage was a mistake. I can never count on you to take care of me.”

Tony stood and followed Marion towards the exit when they heard an explosion. The people were screaming as they ran by. Marion held Tony as they looked around as fear gripped their hearts and minds. People were shouting, “We’re under attack!”

A police officer was hurrying towards them. Tony stopped him.

“Officer! Officer! Are we under attack?” Tony asked.

“No. Flight 193 to Honolulu exploded during take-off. Excuse me, I have to go help.”

In the middle of the chaos, Tony and Marion held on to each other as they thanked God.