Anonymous Tip: Weddings, Weddings, Everywhere

A Review Series of Anonymous Tip, by Michael Farris

Pp. 433-439

At 10:00 a.m. on Monday morning, Professor French calls the Court Clerk to find out if the case was granted cert, given that it was on schedule for discussion the previous Friday. He finds out that it was indeed granted cert. It’s only just after 7:00 a.m. in Spokane, but Professor French calls Peter Barron’s office’s answering service and convinces them it’s an emergency so that they’ll put him through to Peter’s home phone. Peter is, of course, elated.

“Professor?” came Peter’s voice in about a minute. “Supreme Court emergency?”

“Yes! Yes! My boy. A good emergency. No, it’s a great emergency! Cert was granted. You did it, Peter!”

French heard the phone drop followed by whooping, hollering, and stamping on the other line.

Because Peter is a manly man. And somehow also Professor French’s “boy.” Bear in mind that Peter and Professor French didn’t know each other until Joe introduced them several months ago. Anyway. There was much rejoicing.

It’s now 7:40 a.m., and Peter calls Gwen, who is “awake, lying in bed, planning her wedding for the umpteenth time.” Because of course she is. That’s all women think about, don’tcha know. I’m left to wonder, again, if Farris knows anything about four-year-olds—or now, I suppose, five-year-olds, since Casey has apparently had a birthday. I have a four-year-old. He would never let me sleep until 7:40 a.m. on a Monday morning. Apparently Casey is magic. And all-but invisible.

Wait. My bad. I assumed Peter was calling Gwen, but no, he’s actually at her door, hammering on it so loudly that Gwen grabs a golf club before heading for the front door. Presumably Stan left it there, or maybe she goes golfing with Stan, since she doesn’t appear to have any girlfriends other than Lynn, who she just met this summer. Anyway, she’s scared.

“Who is it?” she cried in her most threatening voice.

It was Peter, of course. He tells her to “open this door at once,” and she does.

He bent over, grabbed her in his arms and held her tight and spun her around the living room, yelling “Yesssssss!” at the top of his lungs. “Gwen, we did it! The Supreme Court took our case! I just found out! We did it! We did it!”

“We wond het hole thing? I thought we were just waiting for the initial ruling or something.”

Peter, for the love of god, spend some time explaining this process to Gwen. I mean I know you’re just learning it yourself, but Gwen should know terms like “cert granted.” She’s a nurse. She’s used to dealing with technical jargon and complicated things. She’s also your fiancé. She shouldn’t be fumbling around with terms like “initial ruling or something.” Seriously.

Anyway, Peter tells her this is the hardest step since so few cases get accepted, and he spins her again, and they run into furniture and things topple and they fall down too. The lamp fell “with a crash.” I’m worried about the bulb, but Peter isn’t.

“Well, as long as we’re down on the floor why don’t we pause for a word of prayer?”

They pray, and Gwen says she’s sure they’ll win, because “God has been with us every step of the way.” Indoctrination: successful. Does she know Peter flubbed some major arguments and may lose the case because at least one argument he’ll be presenting to the court is new, which is not allowed? Has he told her that?

Casey wandered out of her room to see what all the noise was about. Peter and Gwen were on their knees beside the couch, praying, then laughing an hugging. Casey, huddled in the hall with her special blanket, silently watched and smiled.

Yes, but it was a devious smile. Casey has a plan, I’m telling you—a plan to get her mother back, and to get rid of this man who has invaded her life and taken away her daddy. She’s watching—and she’s waiting. She’s biding her time, but her time will come. Then they’ll all remember her, and regret taking her for granted. Then they’ll listen.

Seriously, I’m not sure how anyone can read that last paragraph and not feel sorry for Casey. Why does she sit in the hall instead of joining her mom? The answer is obvious to me: Casey is pushing back against Farris. Farris lets her stay in the hall because Casey “smiled” and that somehow makes it okay, but that she’s hiding out in the hall rather than joining them—with a whoop and hugs—suggests to me that Casey has started resisting Farris—she’s not completely his anymore.

Or at least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

I’m tempted to stop now, but there are more people yet to learn that the case was granted cert. For instance, Gail.

Willet was not pleased with the news. She had been happy to do battle with Peter Barron in any forum where she had more experience. But only one of two thousand lawyers ever argues a case in the Supreme Court, and she was not one of them. And now Peter and hooked up with Professor French. “Surely, Peter will offer him the case,” she thought. The idea of facing the formidable French in oral argument scared her even more.

And that is what Peter should do. Once again, it feels as though a character is slipping from Farris’ grasp. Gail knows Peter should pass the case on to someone with more experience, and is afraid that he will do exactly that—because if he does, her job will be eminently harder. But Farris has never once suggested that Peter should do so, and does not appear to think that he should. Peter has never considered doing so. But Gail—Gail knows. Gail knows what Peter ought to do, if he were handling this case professionally and appropriately.

Gail calls Donna, who already knows. Donna wants to know when the case will be heard. Gail says it could be heard this term, if she and Peter both move quickly in filing their briefs. Donna begs Gail to move quickly, telling her she is waiting to get married before this case is over. She doesn’t explain why, and Gail decides not to ask. Gail is concerned that she may not be able to do a good job if she files things quickly, but Donna is insistent.

Peter has just realized that if he files on the last date possible, and if Gail does the same with her reply, his reply to her reply will be due on his honeymoon, and he’s not happy about that, so he opts to work as quickly as possible. After four weeks of research and collaboration with Professor French, he’s ready to send it to the printers. That means he has to call for more money from Heart for America. He gets Cindy. Cindy goes looking for Humphrey.

“We’ve raised over $350,000. At least that’s what I typed in the report to the board last week. Can’t we send him some more?”

“That number is the gross. And don’t you ever tell that to anybody. I can’t talk right now. Just tell him I’m busy, and say I want to know what he absolutely needs right now. We’re doing the best we can.”

“Mr. Humphrey, please?”

“I’ll send him a check, Cindy. I promise. Just get me an amount.”

This can’t end well.

Farris tells us that Donna “became obsessed with the idea that this case had to be argued and decided in April so she could get married” and that Gail “succumbed to Corliss’s pressure and submitted her brief in just three weeks.” These poor tortured characters. Donna, the feminist, obsessed with getting married. Gail, the whip-smart takes-no-prisoners prosecutor, giving in to pressure from Donna and agreeing to finish her brief in less time than she feels she needs to do it well.

Anyway, their plans to make sure the case is heard this session are threatened when Peter asks Gail for an extension for his final brief, presumably to accommodate his wedding honeymoon—though he doesn’t specify. He doesn’t clarify for the reader, either—if he was worried about his last deadline falling on his honeymoon, wouldn’t he want to finish it quickly so it’d be done and submitted well before? Anyway. Back to the conversation.

“Mr. Barron, under normal circumstances I would cooperate, but my client has specifically instructed me to push this case hard. She wants it heard this term.”

I’m confused. Who is her client, here? Is she defending the state, or Donna specifically? Farris noted earlier that the state will be funding her trip to D.C. to argue the case (I remember because Donna got excited about seeing Stephen on the state’s dime). And what about Rita? If Gail is defending individuals rather than the state, isn’t Donna just one of two clients?

“Why?” Peter asked. “What’s her rush?”

“She told me it was personal. That is where I ended my inquiry and I suggest you do the same,” Willet said curtly, hanging up the phone.

“I do beg your pardon,” Peter said looking at the phone handset. What a happy bunch. Gwen was right. They are witches.

Uh. What? Being curt = being witches? Eww.

The Saturday morning idea of visiting travel agents to plan their honeymoon would have to be postponed. He would now be working all day.

“How often will this happen when we are married?” Gwen asked just a bit testily when Peter informed her of the news.

Peter assures her he’s only worked on Saturdays since taking her case, and that before then he only had to work on Saturdays if he wanted to. But I’m thinking maybe they shouldn’t be getting married after knowing each other less than a year, because Gwen would know the answer to her question if they’d been together longer.

Stockton looked at the court schedule with dismay. Oral arguments would be held Thursday, April 6. Corliss’s persistence had paid off—at least with the calendar of the Supreme Court. Donna would be pressing hard for marriage after the court date.

My read is that Stephen wants to keep Donna on the line, but he’s also shy about making that final commitment—he wants to keep her as a backup plan, but doesn’t want to have his hand forced. He’s not ready to choose.

Either way, this circus is headed to the Supreme Court.

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