Anonymous Tip: The Most Awkward Dinner Ever

A Review Series of Anonymous Tip, by Michael Farris

Pp. 185-193

It’s Saturday, and that means Peter is going to have dinner with Gwen and her parents (plus Casey, of course). First, though, Peter spends the day in the law library writing up his federal civil rights complaint so that he can show it around the table at dinner.

After his conversation with Aaron, he realized that when he really focused on his responsibilities as Gwen’s lawyer, his mind did not wander as much. Having the lawsuit completed would give him something substantive to talk about. . .

Peter and his wandering mind, I tell ya.

Anyway, Peter is wearing sweats and tennis shoes while he does his research, and that of course won’t do for dinner. Handily, he had his dinner clothes in the car. He still needed somewhere to shower, though.

He drove a few blocks to the Spokane YMCA where he and Aaron regularly played racquetball. Even though he was a decade older, Aaron was his stiffest competition. Today there would be no game at the Y, just a quick shower and on to dinner.

And there you have it, another location for your Spokane guidebook.

But, um, also this:

His navy wool trousers, blue-and-white striped shirt, and light-blue patterned sports jacket were perfect to bring out the color of his eyes, he thought with a touch of vanity. It was difficult not to think about trying to impress Gwen with his attire and looks.

Um, okay.

But like, didn’t Peter realize, during his chat with Aaron, that this whole thing with Gwen was dangerous? Shouldn’t he be walking briskly in the other direction?

Peter stopped at the flower shop on Grand on his way up the hill to Gwen’s house. It was the polite thing to do, he convinced himself.

Peter. Peter Peter Peter.

“Come in,” Casey said when she opened the door. “Thank you for coming to our dinner.”

The lines had been rehearsed at least fifteen times throughout the day.

She speaks!

Gwen was just a few feet behind her daughter when Peter stepped through the front door. She was wearing a long-sleeved pink cotton sweater and a long, flowing silk skirt patterned in shades of pink and light green. Peter swallowed, said “Hi Casey,” then looked at Gwen, completing his thought. “Don’t you both look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Casey beamed. “It’s my new dress.”

Apparently, describing Casey’s new dress takes too much ink.

Gwen greets Peter, and Peter thanks her for the invitation.

“These are for you,” he said, presenting the flowers he had been concealing behind his back.

“Oh, they’re beautiful,” Gwen replied.

An awkward silence was interrupted by the appearance of Gwen’s father from the kitchen.

You bet it was awkward.

Anyway, Gwen complements her mother’s cooking, and her father, Stan, responds by saying Gwen cooks just as well. Oh yes.

Stan’s statement sounded a bit too much like a sales pitch—exactly as he intended it—and a second awkward moment followed.

*headdesk*

“Well, how’s my favorite client?” Peter said, squatting down to Casey’s eye level. “I am really glad you are back with your mommy.”

Casey smiled shyly and grabbed her mother by the knee, twisting her body back and forth.

So wait, which is it? Casey just greeted Peter at the door, exclaiming in excitement about her new dress, and now she’s so shy she can’t say a word? I mean on some level I get it. I have a three-year-old. They can be complicated. I just don’t feel like Farris has ever sat down and hammered out Casey’s personality one way or the other. Because he probably hasn’t. Either way, I’m disappointed not to get more dialogue from her. Are we never going to hear about her time in foster care, or her feelings on the matter?

Anyway, Casey and Stan sit and chat with Peter while Gwen and June finish getting supper on the table (gender much?). Once they all sit down to eat, Peter finds out that no one wants to talk about the lawsuit until after Casey is in bed. So, Peter compensates by inviting the whole family to church the next day. They acquiesce, figuring they owe God one. After dinner, Gwen puts Casey to bed. The grownups encourage Casey to give Peter a goodnight kiss, which sounds awkward. If I had a dinner guest and my kids were going to bed, it wouldn’t even occur to me to ask them to kiss said guest.

I thought about ending the post here, most of the awkward moments over, and covering the after-dinner legal discussion next week, but then I realized you guys probably want me to skim that section anyway. I don’t want this series to turn into some sort of boring plodding. So, onward!

Peter hands each adult a copy of his complaint and says he plans to file the suit early the next week. He explains that the CPS case was in the state court system, but that he’s going to bring this case in federal court, as he believes the judges there will be less biased. He describes the suit as a civil rights case. And in case the lawyers in my audience are wondering, no, he doesn’t once ask Gwen, Stan, or June what they want to do. Instead, he tells them exactly how their legal strategy is going to work. It’s very clear that he has already decided what he is going to do and isn’t interested in input.

The goal of the lawsuit, Peter explains, is threefold: to get damages for harm suffered, to have the court make an order prohibiting CPS from entering homes without a warrant, and to have attorney’s fees awarded by the court. Peter explains that he has named three people as defendants—Donna, Rita, and Blackburn. He explains that Blackburn was the supervisor at the CPS office. “I called there anonymously and got his name,” he says. I guess things really were more complicated before the internet!

Anyway, Peter explains that the lawsuit can only cover things that took place before the CPS workers filed the lawsuit, as what happened after the lawsuit was filed was covered by “qausi-judicial immunity.” This means they can only sue for the initial “raid” on Gwen’s home, and the strip search, but not for the week-long separation while Casey was in foster care. Gwen doesn’t think this is fair, and Stan declares it stupid, but Peter explains that it’s reality.

Peter also tells Stan and Gwen—June’s not saying a word and I am starting to wonder if Farris has forgotten she’s here—that exigent circumstances (basically, emergency situations) are an exception to the warrant rule, and that whether exigent circumstances applied in this case will become an issue in the lawsuit. Did the social workers have good reason to believe that Casey was in imminent danger? Peter says that will depend in part on whether the tip was called in anonymously, as anonymous tips are generally seem as less reliable.

As I read through this section I’m annoyed by moments like this:

“But there are two complicated rules which affect all this.”

“Figures,” Stan said. “It was sounding too easy to understand.”

And this:

“[explains why anonymous tips are less reliable.]”

“Well, I don’t understand it all,” Gwen said, “but it sounds like you do.”

These comments, sprinkled throughout, become ingratiating after a while. Does Farris really have to keep reminding us that lawyers are Super Smart and Educated and laypeople are simply not capable of understanding the nuances of specific situations? I’m pretty sure we all know that law can be complicated, but I’m pretty sure we’d all like to have a lawyer willing to explain the situation to us without needing us to constantly remark on how very smart he is and how very stupid we are.

And then there’s this:

“These kinds of lawsuits are very rare, and hard to win. I’ve never done one exactly like this before.”

As the lawyers in my readership have noted, a good lawyer will pass a case outside of their area of expertise on to a more qualified lawyer. Peter does not do this. To his credit, he does mention that he has an associate who once worked as a federal prosecutor who will be able to help him. “Lawyers don’t always know all the rules, but we are expected to be able to find them and understand them,” he explains. “I think I’ve got it all down, but there are people more experienced than me.” Gwen says she doesn’t care if there are more experienced lawyers, Peter got her Casey back and he’s the only lawyer she’ll ever have. Cue the music.

And, at long last, June speaks!

“Well, I think it is high time we had some of this strawberry angel food delight,” June said, standing. “Gwen, come on and let’s get the dessert and coffee.”

So basically, June is my grandmother. Got it.

Anyway, at this moment two things happen. First, Gordon calls, but he’s drunk, so Gwen has June hand the phone off to Stan to deal with him. Second, Casey has a nightmare. Weirdly, Peter got there before Gwen—perhaps, because Gwen was in the kitchen, which must have been further away. Peter picks up the screaming Casey— “They’re under my bed. They’re under my bed. Mommy! Mommy! Don’t let them get me!” —and comforts her as the others look on. “Nobody is going to hurt you,” he says. “And I’m way bigger than those mean ladies.” In about three minutes, Peter successfully rocks Casey to sleep and lays her back in her bed.

Gwen just stood there in amazement. As Peter made his way to the door, it was obvious that Gwen was not going to move. As he approached her, he reached out his hand, grasping her arm gently to rouse her so they could both leave the room.

“Peter,” she whispered. “You are wonderful. You are truly wonderful.”

Peter’s head was swimming. It was the closest they had ever been. He could smell her hair and feel her breath. He lingered. If only her parents had not been in the outer room . . . how he desired at that moment to kiss her with reckless abandon.

“I think you’re more than wonderful,” he whispered.

Um. Wow.

First of all, Peter is completely blowing it when it comes to his convictions. He’s already decided he can’t marry Gwen because of her divorce—oh and by the way she’s still not a Christian—and here he is, our hero, deliberately putting himself directly into the line of temptation. From a purely secular perspective, he’s toying with Gwen when he shouldn’t be—if he’s decided he can’t be with her he shouldn’t be leading her on—and furthermore, he really shouldn’t be getting involved with her at all when he’s her lawyer.

But second, if I had a dinner guest who didn’t know my kids over—who had only met them once or twice, and only as a professional and not as a friend—I would think it very strange if that dinner guest were to enter my children’s bedroom and rock them back to sleep after a nightmare. I’ve had situations where a guest moves to comfort one of my kids if they fall or hurt themselves nearby, but only to immediately turn it over to me and never with this amount of physical contact. What Gwen reads as sweet reads to me as weird at best, and creepy and concerning at worst.

But Peter’s a Good Christian, so why worry, right?

And there you have it. An awkward end to a very awkward dinner.