Anonymous Tip: Too Much Mooning to Lawyer

A Review Series of Anonymous Tip, by Michael Farris

Pp. 213-218

It’s Thursday now, and Peter has received a Notice of Appearance from Matt Bartholomew and Gail Willet. This is how he learns that Gail will be defending Blackburn, Donna, and Rita in his civil rights case against them. Peter and Sally, his secretary, exchange some banter over Peter’s dislike of Gail, but Peter repeats that Gail is competent, and notes that Gail’s involvement will probably keep the case moving quickly, given ho swiftly she responded to his last-minute briefs during the previous hearing. Sally tells him to get to work, because if he wins he’ll get paid this time, and the office needs the money.

Peter didn’t get to work, but sat deep in thought, holding the Notice of Appearance in his hand. He hadn’t contacted Gwen all week. He was doing his best to just be her lawyer and nothing more. And since nothing had happened on her case, he had no reason to call.

Good Peter!

A notice of appearance is a very minor event in litigation. He knew that ninety-nine times out of a hundred, he wouldn’t bother to call his client to give them such an update. But Peter and the additional excuse that this was an unusual situation where a prosecutor was appearing as counsel in a federal civil rights case. At least it seemed unusual enough to Peter to justify a call. He dialed the number despite some nagging doubts about his motives.

Bad Peter!

“Hi Gwen, this is Peter.”

“Long time no see, Peter. How have you been?”

“I’ve been great. I’m calling because of a small development in your case. But first things first. How are things going with the Lord?” I was really thrilled with what happened on Sunday.”

Very very bad Peter!

If it wasn’t already obvious how unethical what Peter is doing is, it should be completely obvious now.  Let me ask you this—what would happen if Gwen had second thoughts about her conversion? Peter is Gwen’s lawyer and working this case for her for free, and her salvation is clearly the first thing on Peter’s mind. The coercive pressure at play here is gobsmacking. Let me drive this home for you. Imagine if Peter were in a cult, residential compound and cult leader and all, while representing Gwen in court. Imagine if he invited Gwen to a cult meeting and she made a statement of intention to join. Imagine that he called her with an update on her legal case, which he was working for her for free, and the first thing he asked was about what steps she’d taken toward joining said cult. I imagine that even Farris could see why this wouldn’t be okay. And you know what? This isn’t okay either.

But then Peter didn’t seem to care about ethics when he blackmailed her previous lawyer into turning over her private records without first receiving her consent, or when he neglected to report her previous lawyer to the bar for attempting to coerce sexual favors, or when he went to her house and had super with her and her parents. And he’s never stopped to think about whether she would want a lawyer who spends his time mooning over her and being inappropriately involved in her personal life, either. He ought to at least give Gwen the option of passing her case on to someone else—maybe even someone more qualified.

Anyway. Gwen tells him things are great, and that Lynn calls her every day and that she and Lynn are going to do a Bible study. She says she thinks Lynn is awesome, and that if Aaron is as great as Lynn she gets why he likes him.

“They’re a neat couple, that’s for sure.” Peter fell silent, wanting to continue, but not knowing how to carry on the conversation without going down paths that bothered his conscience.

How about getting back on the subject you’re supposed to be on?! 

If you’re a lawyer and you can’t carry on a conversation with your client because you’re so romantically attracted to them you can’t think straight, you probably shouldn’t be their lawyer.

Finally Gwen said, “So what happened in my case? Isn’t that why you called?”

Oh, Gwen, you poor thing. You deserve so much better.

So Peter tells Gwen about the Notice of Appearance and that Gail is going to be defending Blackburn, Donna, and Rita. Gwen wants to know if that’s unusual and Peter explains that yes, it’s unusual for a prosecutor to work for the Attorney General on a case like this, but that it’s probably because Gail is an expert on child abuse cases with a prestigious record. Gwen tells Peter she’s even more impressed with him for winning the hearing, and Peter credits his success to God.

“Well, that’s all I have to report. I guess I’ll see you on Sunday in church.”

But, you know, no pressure. 

“Casey and I will be there. My parents probably won’t come. But let me ask you one more thing about my case. What’s next? What can I expect to happen and when?”

“I’m sorry. I should have explained all that to you before.”

Yes, Peter! Yes you should have! If you weren’t so busy mooning you might actually have time to lawyer!

Peter explains that Gail has thirty days to answer the complaint, and they can either file “an ordinary answer” admitting part of the facts and disputing the rest or they can “file a motion asking the judge to dismiss the case.” Peter says he suspects they’ll file a motion to dismiss at the very last minute, but that he feels good about their chances winning the motion, though he can’t be sure. Gwen complains that it isn’t fair that they have so long to respond when she had to show up to the hearing right away, but Peter says courts aren’t fair. “You are fighting the government, an the government writes the rules,” he explains.

“But I’ll push as hard as I can.”

“I have no doubt about that. I’ve never seen anybody so dedicated to a cause as you are to my case.”

In Peter’s mind, he said, And I’ve never seen anybody as beautiful as you, but he stifled the thought and said, “I’ll move things as fast as I can. See you Sunday, OK?”

This situation is making me twitch. Poor Gwen. First Bill Walinski and now this.

Peter held the receiver for a long time. Then he paced and stared out his windows. Being just her lawyer was not going to be easy.

It might help if you’d actually start doing it.

Now it’s Friday, and Peter shows up to “his Friday morning session with Aaron” slightly late. The two exchange pleasantries and Aaron says his busy is busier than Peter’s busy because he’s got four kids in addition to his job. “Peter’s mind flashed to Casey. He certainly wouldn’t mind having one child right away, and maybe more later.” STOP PETER. JUST STOP. Aaron says he’s been anxious to talk to Peter all week but ended up out of town again, and apparently there are no phones out of town and this somehow rendered him unable to place a call. Okay so I added that last part, but seriously, people. Seriously.

Anyway, Aaron says that he needs to talk to Peter about Gwen.

“I knew you would,” Peter said, holding his breath in anticipation of a gentle but effective tongue-lashing.

To all the shippers in my audience—you’re welcome. That really is what it says.

Anyway, Aaron says he’s heard from Lynn that Gwen is “a wonderful lady” and “really great” and that “if she weren’t divorced, I would be encouraging you to make a reservation to use the church some Saturday afternoon in about six months.” Apparently Gwen is a passive object and it is utterly unnecessary for anyone to ask her what she wants in this situation.

“Peter,” Aaron said a bit more seriously, “I can really understand why this is so difficult for you.”

Peter sighted. Aaron, he realized, wasn’t a cruel task master. He was just a friend who encouraged him to stick by his own convictions. Nether Aaron nor his church had been the source of his belief about marrying a divorced woman—Peter had first heard the material at a seminar and had done a lot of reading and studying before reaching the conclusion that he should not marry a divorced woman.

That seminar didn’t happen to be given by Bill Gothard, now, did it?

“Thanks,” Peter said. “I appreciate your understanding. I’ve never met anybody who affects me the way she does. It’s obvious that she is really pretty, but there’s a lot more as well. She seems so vulnerable and open. I just feel like I want to protect her. Her personality is so warm and she has these little flashes of fieriness when she lashes out at the social workers that show she’s got a lot of spirit.”

Really, Peter? Really? Now that’s just gross. I mean, seriously. What he likes about her is that she’s pretty, that she’s vulnerable, and that her personality is warm with flashes of fire? He’s practically talking about marrying the woman, but they’ve never just “hung out.” I once had a friend who had just started dating talk to me about whether a guy she’d met a week ago might be “the one,” and how she’d know. You know what I told her? I told her to wait and see how they interacted when they were more comfortable with each other, what it felt like when they could let their hair down and be open with each other, whether they had enough in common to always have things to talk about or do together, and so forth. Peter’s so far from home plate he’s still outside the stadium, for god’s sake.

Anyway, Aaron and Peter have a bunch more discussion about the importance of not changing your convictions because “an attractive alternative” comes along. “Down deep, what does your spirit say to you about all this?” Aaron asks. “Not your heart, not your head. What does the witness of the Holy Spirit say to your spirit?”

Peter looked out of the window of the coffee shop with a fixed stare. He was silent for about thirty seconds. He turned back to the table, picked up his coffee cup in his hand, swirled it around a bit, and looked Aaron straight in the eye. “That’s the problem. To the best of my understanding, I don’t think I’m supposed to change. . . . If I would change my views of God and His Word because—when you boil it right down—because I want to, I feel that I might turn my back on God for anything.”

“I feel for you, Peter. I really do,” Aaron said.

“This is the hardest challenge I’ve ever faced in my Christian life,” Peter said. “It would be so easy for me to be completely in love with Gwen . . . . ”

“I am sure it is hard. But faith in God is not merely about following Him when it’s easy. Real faith involves following God when it’s hard.”

“What should I do?”

“I think you should just keep going forward with your commitment. Treat Gwen as a client and as a sister in Christ. And keep asking God to use His Word to speak to your spirit.”

Wrong anser, Aaron, wrong answer!

Seriously, why does no one think of solving this problem by getting Gwen a different lawyer—one who actually specializes in this area of law, perhaps! For the love of all that is holy, would someone please get Gwen out of this situation already?!

Peter finishes with a request:

“I’ll do my best. You’ve got to pray for me.”

“Sure. I really will—more than ever.”

And that’s the end of that section. If you are reading the posts in this serious but not the comments, you may want to dive in this week. Several commenters have been writing some excellent fan fiction, and I have a feeling it’s about to get only better.