The Appeal Read Free Page A

seconds he had gone from a disgraced, bankrupt former bank vice president to a rising star with designs on a bigger salary and office. He even felt smarter. Oh, what a marvelous entrance into the bank’s boardroom he would choreograph first thing in the morning. The judge was going on about formalities andthanking the jurors, but Huffy didn’t care. He had heard all he needed to hear.
    The jurors stood and filed out as Uncle Joe held the door and nodded with approval. He would later tell his wife that he had predicted such a verdict, though she had no memory of it. He claimed he hadn’t missed a verdict in the many decades he had worked as a bailiff. When the jurors were gone, Jared Kurtin stood and, with perfect composure, rattled off the usual post-verdict inquiries, which Judge Harrison took with great compassion now that the blood was on the floor. Mary Grace had no response. Mary Grace didn’t care. She had what she wanted.
    Wes was thinking about the $41 million and fighting his emotions. The firm would survive, as would their marriage, their reputations, everything.
    When Judge Harrison finally announced, “We are adjourned,” a mob raced from the courtroom. Everyone grabbed a cell phone.
    __________
    M r. Trudeau was still standing at the window, watching the last of the sun set far beyond New Jersey. Across the wide room Stu the assistant took the call and ventured forward a few steps before mustering the nerve to say, “Sir, that was from Hattiesburg. Three million in actual damages, thirty-eight in punitive.”
    From the rear, there was a slight dip in the boss’s shoulder, a quiet exhaling in frustration, then a mumbling of obscenities.
    Mr. Trudeau slowly turned around and glared at the assistant as if he just might shoot the messenger. “You sure you heard that right?” he asked, and Stu desperately wished he had not.
    “Yes, sir.”
    Behind him the door was open. Bobby Ratzlaff appeared in a rush, out of breath, shocked and scared and looking for Mr. Trudeau. Ratzlaff was the chief in-house lawyer, and his neck would be the first on the chopping block. He was already sweating.
    “Get your boys here in five minutes,” Mr. Trudeau growled, then turned back to his window.
    __________
    T he press conference materialized on the first floor of the courthouse. In two small groups, Wes and Mary Grace chatted patiently with reporters. Both gave the same answers to the same questions. No, the verdict was not a record for the state of Mississippi. Yes, they felt it was justified. No, it was not expected, not an award that large anyway. Certainly it would be appealed. Wes had great respect for Jared Kurtin, but not for his client. Their firm currently represented thirty other plaintiffs who were suing Krane Chemical. No, they did not expect to settle those cases.
    Yes, they were exhausted.
    After half an hour they finally begged off, and walked from the Forrest County Circuit Court building hand in hand, each lugging a heavy briefcase. Theywere photographed getting into their car and driving away.
    Alone, they said nothing. Four blocks, five, six. Ten minutes passed without a word. The car, a battered Ford Taurus with a million miles, at least one low tire, and the constant click of a sticking valve, drifted through the streets around the university.
    Wes spoke first. “What’s one-third of forty-one million?”
    “Don’t even think about it.”
    “I’m not thinking about it. Just a joke.”
    “Just drive.”
    “Anyplace in particular?”
    “No.”
    The Taurus ventured into the suburbs, going nowhere but certainly not going back to the office. They stayed far away from the neighborhood with the lovely home they had once owned.
    Reality slowly settled in as the numbness began to fade. A lawsuit they had reluctantly filed four years earlier had now been decided in a most dramatic fashion. An excruciating marathon was over, and though they had a temporary victory, the costs had been great. The wounds were