“That’s true.”
“That you experience disorientation and dizziness.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“And that you are subject to sudden uncontrollable neck seizures.”
“Yes. Particularly when I’m tired.”
What softballs, Ben thought. Reynolds must’ve given up trying to win the case and decided just to act sympathetic and hope for the best.
“And you’ve testified that the neck spasms are interfering with your work.”
“Well, as a nurse, I’m in contact with patients on a regular basis. A violent neck twitch doesn’t make for good bedside manner.”
“And these neck ailments began after the car accident?”
“Oh no,” she said cheerily. “I’ve had this problem all my life.”
Ben’s jaw practically thudded against the table. What?
“Are you saying your injury was not caused by the car accident?” Reynolds asked.
Amy’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Apparently it had dawned on her that she might have said something wrong. She looked at Ben, as if hoping he would answer for her.
Judge Hart glanced down from the bench. “The witness will answer the question.”
Ben mentally envisioned the dollar signs slipping through his fingers. He jumped to his feet. “Your honor, I object. I can’t see what possible relevance—”
“Save it,” Judge Hart said, cutting him off. “Overruled. Not that I blame you for trying.”
“I’ve had neck problems since I was a little girl,” Amy answered. “I was about eight or nine when they started.”
“Mrs. Simmons, when I took your deposition two months ago, you described in great detail the neck pains you experienced the day of the accident.”
“That’s true,” she said. “I did have a bad attack that day.”
“But it was not the first time you had the problem.”
“Oh no. Not at all.”
Reynolds grinned malevolently. If her neck ailment predated the accident, then it wasn’t caused by the car accident, meaning the driver of the assaulting car wasn’t liable. Nor was his insurance company. “No more questions, your honor.”
“Any redirect?” Judge Hart asked.
Ben rose. “Yes, your honor.”
The judge nodded. “Lotsa luck.”
Ben hustled to the podium. He was going to have to rehabilitate this witness like he had never rehabilitated before.
“Amy. You did testify that your neck hurt shortly after the accident, didn’t you?”
“Oh, yes. Terribly so.”
“Was it just another spasm like the others you’d had before?” Please, God, be with me now!
“Oh no. It was much worse.”
Yes! “So the pain after the accident was much worse.”
“Much much more so. It had never really hurt before. After the accident, though, the pain was almost incapacitating.”
“Do you know why?”
“According to Dr. Carter, the whiplash effect when Mr. Lombardi’s car rammed into me caused a cervical disk between two cervical vertebrae to impinge upon a nerve.”
“And that’s a permanent injury, isn’t it, Amy?”
“I’m afraid so. Although the medication, surgery, and therapy will help, the doctors say the condition will never entirely disappear.”
“So even if the accident didn’t instigate your neck problems, it would be fair to say it seriously aggravated the preexisting condition?”
“Oh yes. It’s been much worse and more frequent since the accident.”
Praise all that’s holy. “Thank you, Amy. I have no more questions, your honor.”
“Very well,” the judge said. “Gentlemen, we’ll resume at one o’clock. And incidentally, Mr. Kincaid,” she added, “nice save.”
3
BEN GREETED AMY SIMMONS in his office lobby, carefully sidestepping the chickens. He hoped if he acted as if they weren’t there, she wouldn’t ask any questions.
“I just wanted to thank you again for taking my case, Mr. Kincaid,” Amy said. “All the other lawyers I contacted turned me down flat.”
“Well, soft tissue injuries are difficult to prove.”
“You were wonderful in the courtroom today. Especially after my cross-examination.”
“That was nothing special. I just had to adjust our theory of recovery to the eggshell skull doctrine. If the negligent party aggravates a preexisting injury, he can still be held liable for the increased pain and suffering. No big deal.”
“I thought you were brilliant. I guess the jury thought so, too.”
Ben shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that. They only awarded you ten thousand dollars in damages. Fortunately, the other side settled, so you’ll be spared an appeal, but you’ll have to spend half the ten thou just to cover your preexisting medical bills, much less pay for future expenses.”
“It isn’t your fault I never told you I had neck problems before the accident. I just assumed everyone knew.”
“Uh, no.”
“Anyway, my brother-in-law is in law school at TU and he told me the verdict was excellent, given the circumstances. So before I do anything else, I want to pay your fee.”
Since Amy couldn’t afford to pay an hourly rate or a flat fee, Ben had regretfully taken the case on a contingency fee, which meant he didn’t get paid unless and until they recovered from the defendant. “Amy, if you give me a third, you won’t have enough for your own medical expenses.”
“That doesn’t matter,” she said. “A deal is a deal. Here, I have the check already written out.”
She handed him a check for $3,333.
That would pay a great many overdue bills, Ben mused. But no. He folded the check and tore it into tiny pieces.
“Sorry, Amy,” he said, “but it’s always the lawyer’s prerogative to waive his fee, and that’s what I’m doing.” He let the check shreds fall to the floor. “You keep your money and get the treatment you need.”
Amy gazed at Ben, her eyes sparkling. Wordlessly, she took his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek. Then she gathered her purse and left the office.
“Wow,” Jones said, looking up from his card table. “Whattaguy.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Point of order, though, Boss. Since you gave up your only prospect of recovering a fee anytime in the near future, how are you going to pay me?”
“With the milk of human kindness,” Ben replied.
“Nothing personal, but I’d prefer a form of legal tender that’s accepted at Kmart.”
The front door breezed open, and Christina bustled in carrying a package.
“A member of the opposition,” Ben said. “I hope you didn’t come here to gloat.”
“Gloat? Hey, you got a jury verdict in your favor.”
Ben shrugged. “For peanuts.”
“That was hardly your fault. Anyway, forget the trial. Que será será. I came to bring you a birthday present.”
Jones straightened. “Birthday? You mean today really is your birthday?”
“Oops.” Christina closed her eyes. “Pardonnez-moi.”
“Boss, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. How old are you?”
“Thirty,” Ben replied, “which is exactly why I didn’t tell you. I thought you might be tempted to indulge in black balloons or strippers or other such birthday shenanigans.”
“I prefer those guys who dress up like gorillas and deliver pizza—”
“My point exactly.” Ben examined Christina’s package. “That’s not my birthday present, is it?”
“Of course it is,” she said, pushing it toward him. “What’s your problem?”
“Well, I can’t help but notice that the box appears to have airholes.”