Running In Place

We get to the liaison's office. She greets my lawyer warmly. Always a good sign. I am in with the in crowd.

She also does not have a face like Sasquatch, so I can focus. Another bonus.

She is responsible for assigning judges and court dates and all manner of things for the judicial robe wearing set. Deb talks to her about our little sitch. Gives her the details in a humorous little thumbnail sketch. A master. The liaison already has a questionable opinion of Randee. She wants to work with us. Yay me. A friend in a high place.

Deb also asks that we not be scheduled, if possible, with that asshole who was so mean to me the last time. The liaison gives her a wink.

I can almost feel myself starting to breathe normally again. Maybe I won't actually have turned blue by the end of this thing.

The liaison sees no reason to proceed with one hearing that is going to be undone weeks later in another conference and hearing. It is a waste of the court's time and resources. She wants to continue the first hearing and add it to the docket with the second. We have a better chance of settling if all the numbers are thrown in a pile at once.

And then the fun begins.

We call Randee. On speaker so all the office occupants can hear. Randee is blissfully unaware that she has an audience. Upon picking up the phone, she is on her horse and riding once again. In that famously abrasive, seizure-inducing voice of hers. Decibels above conversational tone. She is trying to be heard in the cheap seats.

She is so completely outrageous that another court employee comes to close the door. But the liaison is so amused and amazed by the inflammatory, nonsensical filibustering that she quietly waves the employee in for the entertainment value.

And then of course, while the hamster on the wheel in her head is trying to figure out how to get a win for Lars and how to turn the whole mess into a cash cow for herself, she fills up the air time with malevolent, baleful comments about me. My abysmal record as a wife and mother. Character flaws. Transgressions.

None of it was accurate in the slightest. But the strangers before me would have no way to know that. The liaison looked at me apologetically and then away. It was not nearly as funny now that it had turned malicious.

Turning blue and in a flopsweat of shame, I look at the floor. Deb pats my hand and winks at me when I look up.

She smiles and delivers a show stopping comment intended to get Randee off balance in her Payless wedges. (She has to be at the top of the Judicial Systems Worst Dressed list). Deb has been thoughtfully composing a reasoned argument while Randee rambled on with no end in sight.

In the split second of silence, she interjects a description of the liaison's plan and how it benefits all parties, including Lars. How about that?

And then Randee added some levity quite by accident by accusing Deb of just wanting what's best for her client.

Ooh. Good one, Randee.

The court employees stifle their chuckles while Deb calmly answers that that is her job. Duh.

But in the end, Randee will not agree to the continuance and the aligning of court dates. Of course not. The more she appears in court, the more she gets to bill Lars, the poor sucker. She is going for the big win. I am going to have to pay him - evidently with my good looks.

I am shaking. I am insulted. I am worn to the core. I get in my car and drive.

On the way home, Lars sends me a text confirming that he can pick up the kids a few days early to leave on their trip.

No more Mrs. Nice Guy.

I pull over and reply.

That depends on what happens in court on Thursday. Send.