A Complete Waste Of Time

To those who have lost and deserve all the joy they find!

---[]--- ---[]---

"I can't believe I came to hear this!"

I hadn't paid much attention to the woman at my left, but I felt the same way.

We were sitting in a continuing legal education lunch hour meeting. One of those things the state bar sponsors, held at its headquarters. CLE is a sore subject with many. Still required in most states and 90% of lawyers consider it a complete waste of time.

We all understand the intent. Educate lawyers on new cases or provide basic knowledge in an area other than a lawyer's normal practice area. The flaw in that logic should be obvious. Good lawyers already know. Bad ones don't care.

I didn't mind these bar-sponsored ones--as a social event, although the sandwiches today were nasty dry. I took one bite and gave up. I was here to rub shoulders with a bunch of friends. Get an hour of CLE. But this was an insult!

A young attorney was speaking about an old Supreme Court case ... from 1945 ... called

International Shoe

... I think the plaintiff in the original case was the State of Washington. An important case on a legal issue called "personal jurisdiction."

The problem is, that case is taught in every law school in the first semester of Civil Procedure. We all know it. Worse than that, for most of us the issue never comes up! At least not with facts that would make that the best case to cite.

When the woman next to me made her remark, I glanced over and said, "Yeah. First semester Civ Pro. This is a total waste of time!"

I had been practicing for about fifteen years. I still remembered the case and how the issue was decided. "Do you ever need to know this in your practice? Have you cited it once since law school?"

"Not one time!"

A lawyer in front of us glanced back, apparently unhappy with the whispering.

My friend laughed quietly. "I guess he's fascinated by the topic!"

I smiled. "Maybe he cites it on every case."

After a couple more minutes, she leaned over, "Hey, you wanna get out of here and grab a bite of edible food?"

I nodded. What the heck!

She held up her cell phone and looked at me, as if to say, "Follow me."

She pretended to receive a text, read it and show it to me. It was just her home screen, but she nodded to me as if was something grave and motioned with her head for me to follow.

In the hallway, we both laughed.

"My name's Joan, by the way."

"I'm Jonathan ... Jon. No 'h.' Do you want to drive separate cars, or would you like me to drive? What's your preference?"

"I'll leave my car here, if I can ride with you."

"Let's do it! Where do you want to go?"

She suggested a sandwich shop in an area of the city I was not very familiar with. It's not far from downtown, where we were, but the opposite direction from my office and my house.

"You'll have to help me with directions."

As I drove, I learned we had attended the same law school. I graduated five years earlier. She handled family law. I was in real estate transactions.

I glanced over a couple of times to see whether she was wearing a ring. No.

We arrived and went inside. It was a casual, sit-down place. She recommended her favorite sandwich.

Now a few minutes to talk while we waited.

"Tell me a little about yourself, Jon. Non-lawyer stuff."

"I grew up not far from downtown, but the other side from here. Attended Spencer High School."

"I went to Caswell ... rivals!"

"Yeah, that seemed important then, didn't it? Anyway, I went to U.C. Berkley for my undergraduate ... political science. Then I came home for law school. I wanted to practice here."

"Not a lot of personal info there. Married?"

"About that ... I haven't married. I almost did once."

I looked down and shook my head a little.

"You know, people talk about brides getting left standing at the altar."

"She backed out with you standing there?"

"Yeah. Literally. Her father brought her to me, but she stood there for maybe five seconds and ran."

"Ouch! That's awful! I'll bet it was embarrassing."

"Not fun." Although that had happened fifteen years earlier, I was inexplicably close to tears. I had to change the subject.

"Joan, how about you? What's your story?"

"I grew up in the Bay Area. East Bay. Fremont. Moved here during high school, then went to San Francisco State, then back here for law school. As far as personal life, disappointing."

"You really don't have to ..."

"No, what you shared wasn't fun either. I was happily married ... I thought. My husband absolutely did not want children. I didn't know that before we married. He insisted on birth control. I hated condoms so I started on the pill.

"Five years ago, he said his company wanted him in Indiana for 6 months. He always traveled there a lot before that. Then it turned into a year. Then he moved to Connecticut. I finally got fed up and filed for divorce a couple of months ago. I'm having trouble locating him for service, so I've hired an investigator."

She wiped away a tear.

Our server brought our sandwiches.

"Thanks for recommending this. It's a great sandwich!"

"Everything I've ever eaten here is good. I'm glad you like it."

After we finished eating, I wanted to return to her situation.

"Joan, in some ways your marriage is more painful than me being left at the altar, isn't it?"

'It is. A dead marriage that lingers on."

"Are you willing to date?"

"Are you asking?"

I laughed. "I almost said, 'Do you want me to ask?' That sounded too circular. I guess, what ..."

"Yes, I want you to ask. Does that help?"

"Maybe that CLE wasn't a total waste, after all."

We both laughed. Then we exchanged numbers.

"Joan, I have no idea what your interests are. Maybe we should start with dinner and see where to go from there."

"I'd like that. I'll let you be the guy this time and pick the place!"

"Let me give that a little thought and call you. I promise I will."

"I am really looking forward to it. Thanks, Jon."

I drove her back to her car. The parking lot was almost empty now. I laughed at a thought: whether the speaker was still going strong.

---[]--- ---[]---

That night, I thought a lot about Joan. She must be about 35. That means she was virtually abandoned at 30! Amazing!

I thought Joan was very attractive, although even a CLE is too professional a setting for clothing to show off one's beauty.

I wanted to find a place for dinner that was quiet enough to talk. Not like a Friday's or Chili's.

I thought of the perfect one! Beaumarchais, an excellent French restaurant that opened about five years previously. Nice, quiet dining. I called and made a reservation for 7:30 pm that Friday.

I called Joan. I was nervous as hell! She could probably tell, but she was very nice. She gave me her address and I said I would pick her up at 7 pm on Friday.

"How should I dress?"

"Sorry, I'm way out of practice. The reservation is at Beaumarchais. Have you been there?"

"No, I don't like to dine alone. It sounds dressy."

"It is ... is that alright? We can go somewhere more ..."

"I love to dress up. Would it be too much to wear a simple black dress?"

"I don't own one of those. I'll probably just wear a suit."

"Good. One of us should, and I don't own one. Jon, I really look forward to Friday. I hope you know that."

---[]--- ---[]---

I hadn't dated in a long time. That thought was on my mind that night as I put my shoes in the closet. I stared at the shoes. They were so old, not even polishing them would have helped. Why was I wearing these still?

I looked through my other shoes. All old. That led me to my suit. Tired looking. Fine for my law practice. Awful for a first date! Shirt? Frayed. I didn't want to look at my ties!

Since I hadn't married, I'd saved a lot of money. My income from my practice was lucrative, and I'd managed to save nearly $80,000 a year for the previous six years. Over $100k in a recent year! That was on top of stuffing a lot into my firm's 401(k) for fifteen years. My home was nearly paid for as well.

Yet there I was. A bunch of worn-out clothes.

The next day, I went to the office, checked on the status of a couple of projects, and told my secretary, Monica, I was going clothes shopping.

"What's her name, Jon?"

"I'm going to ignore that, but it's Joan."

Monica had been my secretary for six years. She imposed order on my practice, mostly by keeping track of my progress on each client matter currently open. Every Monday, I answered to her. That was my request when I hired her.

I never thought to put her in charge of my clothes. She would not have allowed me to look like this!

One advantage I knew I had. I can normally wear things off the rack. Of course, suit pants always need to be hemmed to length.

I picked out two new suits, with an assurance one of them would be finished Friday morning. I added six new shirts, four ties and a new belt. I went to a shoe store and picked out two new pairs of shoes. One black, one brown.

When I tried on the shoes, I noticed a hole in one of my socks. Are you kidding me?

---[]--- ---[]---

I rang her doorbell.

"Hi! It's so nice to see you again. Were you this handsome Tuesday?"

"No. I hit the gym, dropped 20 pounds and added muscle tone. I would have done more, but I only had three days."

She laughed. "Good use of your time!"

"But Joan, you look amazing!"

"I shouldn't tell you this, but I realized all my clothes are professional. Nothing attractive at all. It's been so long since I've had a reason to go out, I had to go shopping."

"Well, I love what you found. That's a stunning dress!"

"Thanks, Jon. I appreciate that."

She was wearing a little black dress. Short, revealing beautiful legs. Also cut low. I was going to struggle all evening to look at her face and not lower!

I opened the car door for her. As I started the car, she leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"Thank you. It's nice to be with a gentleman."

Her eyes were glistening with tears.

---[]--- ---[]---

"Have you eaten here, Jon?"

"Only once. Right after it opened. I don't like dining alone, either."

We were seated quickly and studied the menu. We ordered and then had time to talk.

"Joan, I'd like to talk about things you like to do, but that assumes you will want to go out again. I know, that's the kind of thing you may not know yet, but I have a question. Regardless of your interest in seeing me, do you intend to date now, despite your marriage?"

"That's what I've been asking myself. It's a good question. I hadn't been looking. Hadn't intended to start dating. But I really liked having lunch with you. I think the best answer I can give you is this: I would like to see you again. I know that already. I have no interest in seeing anyone else."

"That's enough for me. Now let's talk about things you enjoy."

We had a fun talk. I loved her sense of humor. We found we have a few common interests. More importantly, we talked about things we would like to do together. Both of us like to cook, to stream movies, hiking (under 10 miles), picnics, and travel.

We were having so much fun talking, it took us forever to eat. The food was great, though!

"Joan, I've enjoyed this. I know you told me earlier you want to continue seeing me. Last chance to change your mind."

"No change. This was fun. Thanks for being so sweet about my situation. I know it isn't ideal, for either of us."

I drove to her home, opened the door for her and extended my hand to assist her. We walked to the front door.

"Don't you hate the tension at the door on a first date. You're wondering whether to kiss me or not. I can't decide for you, but I would not be unhappy if you did."

I started laughing. "That was the most lawyerly front door statement I've ever heard."

She blushed. I kissed her. Her arms went around me and held me tightly.

The kiss went long. Especially for a first kiss.

When it ended, she was crying.

"Oh my! Is my kissing that bad?"

Joan laughed, wiping away tears. "No! Quite the opposite. I've missed kissing, and that was a wonderful kiss. That felt so great! Thank you!"

I kissed her again. Our tongues were busy.

"Kissing you is going to become an addiction. When can I see you again, Jon?"

"Would tomorrow night be soon enough? I'd like to cook dinner for you,"

"Can I bring anything?

"Would you like to bring a tossed salad?"

"Perfect! You don't need to come and pick me up. Let me just drive over. Text me your address, ok?"

"I'll do that. 6 pm? Come as early as 5 if you want."

---[]--- ---[]---

I looked through my recipes. I decided to make crab-filled mushrooms as appetizers, then a shrimp marinara (home-made marinara sauce) over pasta, and some French bread. Normally, I would make garlic bread. For obvious reasons, I decided to leave out the garlic! There would be some in the sauce, but nothing that tastes good is free of seasoning.

I was excited to cook for Joan. I liked her. I don't know what to think about dating a married woman. It was uncomfortable, but I hoped she could finalize the divorce soon.

---[]--- ---[]---

Joan arrived just before 5.

"I'm so happy to see you, Joan!"

She kissed me on the cheek and handed me a salad bowl.

"I know I'm early, but this is where I have wanted to be today."

"I have some appetizers for you ... crab-filled mushrooms. Help yourself!"

"These are delicious! You made these?"

"Easy recipe. They're good, aren't they?"

"How can I help?"

"I've made a shrimp marinara sauce, and it's ready. Just waiting for the pasta. I made some garlic bread--without the garlic--it's in the foil over there. The oven's up to temperature, if you want to put that in. Other than that, everything's ready."

A couple of minutes later, the pasta was ready--al dente, of course--so I plated the marinara. Joan put the salad on the table.

She opened the refrigerator. What salad dressing do you want, Jon?

"That Italian. Look through them and find something you want. Oh, and here are the salad plates for the table."

"Is the raspberry vinaigrette good?"

"Really good. What would you like to drink? I have water, sparkling water, coke, sprite, and cranberry juice."

"Sparkling water. You?"

"Same, please."

Joan brought the bread in on a plate.

"Can I get your recipes for the mushrooms and this fabulous marinara? You made the sauce, didn't you? I had to sneak a taste."

"I did. I'm glad you like it, and I'm happy to share recipes."

After dinner we cleaned up together and loaded the dishwasher.

"Leave the pans, Joan. I'll worry about those later. Would you like to stream something?"

"Could we just sit and talk?"

"Sure. That's better."

I sat on the sofa and Joan sat next to me. She leaned into me slightly, so I put my arm around her.

"I hoped you would catch that hint. It feels nice to sit here with your arm around me."

"When can I see you again?"

"Is tomorrow too soon, Jon?"

"I have to wait that long? Damn!"

"Don't forget, we're not done here yet. At least I hope not."

"What would you like to do tomorrow?"

We decided to go to a large city park by a lake, with a lot of paths through forested areas. Very pretty and plenty of picnic tables.

"Jon, will you do something for me?"

"Of course. What do you need?"

"Will you kiss me again?"

---[]--- ---[]---

We had a great day at the lake. We ate the lunch Joan prepared. That afternoon we walked in the park. Arm in arm. We sat and talked about nothing in particular, and a lot of things.

The next day was the start of a new week. I drove Joan home and kissed her goodnight.

---[]--- ---[]---

The next day I was hard at work, nearly finished with drafts of documents for a large real estate transaction involving commercial property.

Monica called my extension.

"Jon, I have a Mrs. Joan Beckwith on the line. Do you want me to put her through?"

"By all means! Please."

"Hi Joan."

"Jon ..." I could hear her sobbing,

"What's wrong, Joan?"

"Can you come to my home? I left work. I need to see you. It's important."

I could hear the anguish in her voice. "Yes, I'll be there in 20 minutes."

I rushed out, telling Monica I might not be back.

When I got to Joan's, I ran up the step to her door. As I reached for the bell, her door opened, and Joan rushed out, into my arms.

"Jon ... I need your help. I don't know what to do."

"Let's go inside. Tell me what's happened."

She had received a phone call from the investigator who had been looking for her husband, William Beckwith. He was dead. Death certificate from Indiana to prove it. Obituary with his photo.

"I guess this solves your divorce problem, doesn't it?"

Joan was sobbing. "Jon, read the obituary."

I read it out loud. My eyes locked on to one line. "He is survived by his wife of 20 years, Helen, his sons John, Isaac, and Michael, and ... Oh, shit!"

"It's worse. My investigator also found he married someone in Connecticut, and suspects there was another marriage in Wisconsin. As near as he can tell, I was the second wife out of four. Oh Jon! I'm such a fool!"

I held her in my arms as she sobbed.

"What do I do now?"

"Do you want my legal advice?"

"Of course."

"Get an original death certificate as soon as you can. Have it mailed to you. We need to record this on the county records and terminate the joint tenancy on your home. Are any other assets in his name?"

"No, he banked in Indiana. He never moved the money when he moved here. At least, that's what he told me."

"You should also withdraw your petition for divorce. On a positive note, his date of death was over 9 months ago, and no one has stirred the pot. I wonder if perhaps the others don't know. Especially Helen, in Indiana.

"Tell me about the purchase of this home. Where did the money come from?"

"I inherited some money from my grandfather, so I used some of that for the down payment. I made all the payments, though. We decided to handle it that way. I don't remember why, now."

"How did it get into joint tenancy?"

"I deeded it from me to us as joint tenants."

"Ok, this is not a rush, but at some point, I'd like you to assemble documentation of where the money came from."

"Are you worried about a claim from his first wife?"

"Possibly. It's hard to know."

"Jon, thank you so much! It's wonderful to get advice from someone not emotionally involved."

When she said that, what went through my mind was, "She's wrong. I

am

emotionally involved. Crap! I walked right into a conflict of interest!"

As I held her in my arms, she started crying again.

"What's wrong, Joan?"

"I just keep thinking about this mess I got in to. I feel so foolish. Why did I trust him?"

"People committing fraud get away with it because they are glib and charming. You're not the first person to be taken in by a charlatan."

"But I'm an attorney!"

"And a woman who fell in love. How old were you when you met him?"

"I was 25 years old, just graduated from law school and had been hired by the firm I'm still with."

She continued to cry. There wasn't much I could say to make her feel better.

"Jon? Could I stay with you tonight? I can't face being alone."

"Sure. Gather up whatever you need for tonight and for work tomorrow."

"Thanks. That means a lot to me. I'm not trying to seduce you. Please don't think that's why."

That isn't what was bothering me. I knew I couldn't give her legal advice and should recommend that she consult with another lawyer. Still, mainly I just told her the same thing the recorder's office would. Terminate the joint tenancy.