Chapter 39 Ivan
I can't stop thinking about Jay's court date.
It's consuming me. Jay has two weeks before he has to stand in front of a judge and answer for charges that could follow him for the rest of his life, and he doesn't have a lawyer.
He's just going to show up and hope for the best, and that's not good enough.
Wednesday morning, I take my lunch break early and sit in my truck with my phone and a notepad.
I've already done the research over the past few days.
Criminal defense attorneys in Macon, Georgia.
There are dozens of listings online, but I've narrowed it down to three who specifically specialize in assault cases and have good reviews.
I've made notes on each one, their experience, their success rates, their fee structures.
The first one doesn't answer. The phone rings six times and then goes to voicemail. I leave a message but I'm not hopeful.
The second one's receptionist answers cheerfully and then delivers the bad news. "I'm so sorry, but he is completely booked solid for the next month at least. He's in trial on three cases right now. Can I take your information and have him call you back when he has an opening?"
"The court date is in two weeks. I don't have a month."
"I understand, I'm sorry. I wish I could help you."
I hang up, frustrated. One number left.
The third one picks up on the second ring. "Law office of Patricia Hendricks. This is Patricia speaking."
"Hi. I'm calling about a criminal case. Assault and disorderly conduct charges. Misdemeanor charges."
"Is this for yourself or for someone else?"
"For a family member. He has a court date in two weeks and he doesn't have representation yet. I'm trying to find someone who can help him."
"Two weeks is tight, I won't lie to you about that. But it's not impossible." Her tone is professional, matter-of-fact. "Tell me what happened. Give me the basic facts."
I explain everything as clearly as I can.
The bar where Jay was trying to mind his own business.
The three guys who wouldn't leave him alone, who kept pushing and harassing him.
The fight that broke out when they followed him outside into the parking lot.
The arrest where everyone got taken in, the charges filed against Jay even though he was defending himself.
Patricia listens without interrupting, letting me get it all out. When I finish, she's quiet for a moment, thinking.
"First offense?" she asks.
"Yes. He's never been in trouble before. Never arrested, never charged with anything. Clean record until this."
"Any prior record at all? Juvenile charges, anything sealed that might come up?"
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
"And the other parties, the men who were harassing him? Were they arrested too or just your friend?"
"I don't know. Jay didn't say and I didn't think to ask."
"That's something I'd need to find out immediately.
If they were charged too, that could work significantly in our favor.
It shows the police saw your friend as the victim who fought back in self-defense, not as the aggressor.
" She pauses. "What's your friend's financial situation? Can he afford representation?"
"It's not good." I take a breath. "He works at a motorcycle shop. Barely makes enough to cover his rent and food. He definitely can't afford a lawyer." I swallow hard. "But I might be able to."
"Does he know you're calling me right now? Is he aware you're looking into legal representation for him?"
"No. Not yet."
Patricia is quiet again, longer this time. I can almost hear her weighing this information, deciding what to say.
"I'm going to be completely honest with you," she says finally.
"Cases like this with a first offense, self-defense claim, bar fight situation, they're usually very manageable with proper legal representation.
With a good attorney who knows the system, I'd expect to get the assault charges reduced to something minor like disorderly conduct, maybe even dismissed entirely if we can establish clearly that he was defending himself.
Without representation, he's completely at the mercy of whatever the prosecutor decides to push for. "
"What's the difference? In practical terms?"
"Could be the difference between paying a small fine and doing some community service versus a permanent misdemeanor conviction for assault that shows up on every single background check for the rest of his life.
" She lets that sink in. "Every job application, every housing application, it'll be there. Following him. Limiting his options."
"Jesus." My stomach drops.
"My retainer is fifteen hundred dollars," Patricia continues.
"And it's non-negotiable. That covers the initial consultation with your friend, my appearance at his court date, and basic representation through the resolution of the case.
If it somehow goes to trial, which I honestly doubt it will, we'd need to discuss additional fees.
But most of these cases get resolved through negotiation with the prosecutor before trial. "
Fifteen hundred dollars.
Fuck, that's a lot of money. It took me forever to save that much, but I have it.
And Jay is worth it.
"I want to hire you," I say decisively. "I can put the retainer down."
"That's fine, but I need to be absolutely clear about something first. I cannot represent someone who doesn't want to be represented.
Your friend needs to agree to this. He needs to call me himself, sign the paperwork, meet with me, be an active participant in his own defense.
I can't help someone who doesn't want help, no matter how much you care about them. "
"I understand completely. I'll talk to him tonight. I'll explain everything and I'll make sure he understands this is his choice."
"Good. If he agrees, have him call me tomorrow. As soon as possible, given the tight timeline. We'll set up a consultation for later this week and go from there." She gives me her direct line and an email address. "What's your friend's name?"
"Jay Morrow."
"And your name?"
"Ivan Collins."
"Alright, Ivan. I'll be waiting to hear from Jay tomorrow. And for what it's worth, it's good that he has someone in his corner who cares this much. A lot of people in his situation don't have anyone. They're completely alone. That makes a difference, more than you might think."
"He's worth fighting for."
"I hope so. Talk to you soon."
I hang up and then pull up my banking app. I transfer fifteen hundred dollars from savings to checking. The number in my savings account drops, and I feel a momentary pang. But this is what it's for. Nothing could be more important.
I'll pay the retainer as soon as Jay agrees.
If Jay agrees.
If he doesn't, we're both fucked.
I call him later at exactly our agreed upon time.
"Hey. Long day?"
"Yeah. Lots of overtime. Frank had me staying late." I take a breath, steeling myself. "How was your first shift at the diner? How did it go?"
"Really busy. My hands are completely pruned from dishwater." He laughs a little. "Betty's nice though. She snuck me a piece of apple pie during my break. Said I looked like I needed sugar."
"I'm glad she's being good to you."
"Are you okay? You sound weird. Did something happen?"
I close my eyes. Here goes nothing. "I did something today. Something you might be angry about."
Silence on the other end for a beat. "Oh, god. What did you do?"
"I called a lawyer in Macon. A criminal defense attorney who specifically handles assault cases. Her name is Patricia Hendricks."
More silence. Longer this time. I can hear him breathing, slow and controlled.
"Ivan, we talked about this."
"Just hear me out. Please. Let me explain before you get angry."
"You went behind my back. We specifically talked about this."
"I know. And I'm sorry. But Jay, listen to me, please. You have a court date in two weeks. And every time I ask you about it, you say you'll figure it out eventually. But you're not figuring it out. You're avoiding it. You're running out of time."
"I've been busy. I just started a new job two days ago."
"I know you're working hard. But this isn't something you can work your way out of. This requires money you don't have and legal expertise you don't have. And if you show up to that courtroom without a lawyer, you could end up with a conviction that follows you for the rest of your life."
"You don't know that for sure."
"Are you willing to take that chance? I talked to the lawyer for twenty minutes today.
I asked her specifically about outcomes.
Without representation, you're completely at the mercy of whatever the prosecutor decides to push for.
With representation, she thinks she can get the charges reduced to something minor or even dismissed entirely.
This is your future, Jay. Our future. I'm not going to sit back and watch you gamble with it because you're too proud to accept help. "
"So you just decided to fix it for me? Without even consulting me first?"
"I'm asking right now. I found a lawyer who's experienced and willing to take your case on short notice which is something.
I called three lawyers before I found her.
The retainer is fifteen hundred dollars.
I have the money sitting in my checking account.
I want to pay it. I want to hire her for you. "
"No."
"Why?"
"I said no. I told you I don't want your money. And the first chance you get, you go behind my back and try to buy your way into fixing my problems for me."
"That's not what this is."
"Then what is it? Explain it to me."
"It's me refusing to watch the person I care about most in the world destroy his future because he's too proud to accept help when he desperately needs it.
You think I want to fight about this? I hate it.
I hate that we're fighting. But I'd rather have you angry at me and free than watch you end up with a criminal record because I was too scared to have a conflict with you. "
Jay is quiet. Long enough that I start to worry he's hung up on me.
"What's your plan?" I ask. "Honestly. Tell me what you were going to do."
"I don't know." He lets out a long sigh. "Show up to court. Tell them exactly what happened. Plead my case. Hope they believe me."
"And if they don't? If you end up with assault on your permanent record? How do we ever get a place together someday if landlords won't rent to you? How do you visit me here at Rosalyn's house when she has foster kids and you have an assault conviction? The state will never allow it."
"I don't know! I don't have answers. I don't have a plan. I'm just trying to get through each day without falling apart, and I can't think about the future because every time I do, all I see is everything that could possibly go wrong."
My heart physically aches for him. I wish I was there.
"Then let me think about it for you," I say. "Let me carry this one burden so you don't have to. Let me handle this part while you focus on staying sober and working your jobs and pulling yourself together."
"Ivan, I don't know about this."
"This isn't charity. This is me being your partner. This is me saying that your problems are now my problems, and I happen to have the means to help with this particular one, so let me help. Please, I'm begging you."
"I can't pay you back. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever."
"Dammit Jay! I don't care about being paid back. This is not about the money."
"I care. I can't just take fifteen hundred dollars from you and pretend it's nothing. I know how hard you've worked to save it."
"Then don't pretend it's nothing. Call it a loan if that makes you feel better.
Pay me back when you can, if you can, whenever that might be.
Or don't." I take a breath. "What matters is that you have a fighting chance in that courtroom.
What matters is that two weeks from now, you walk into that building with someone competent in your corner.
We've got to get out from under this arrest thing, okay?
Please tell me you understand this affects both of us if it doesn't go away. "
The silence stretches out. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. Forty.
"What's her name again?" Jay asks quietly. "The lawyer you found?"
"Patricia Hendricks. She's expecting your call. She said to call her tomorrow as soon as possible."
"And she really thinks she can help? She thinks this is fixable?"
"She said the charges can probably be reduced to something minor or even dismissed entirely. First offense, self-defense claim, bar fight situation. She said it's very manageable with proper representation."
Another long pause. I hold my breath.
"I'm still mad at you," Jay says finally. "For going behind my back. For making decisions without me."
"I understand. I'm sorry."
"But I don't have a better option, do I?"
"No, you don't. Not really."
He lets out a shaky breath. "Fine. Okay. I'll call her tomorrow. First thing."
"Thank you for trusting me on this."
"Don't thank me yet. I'm still processing how angry I am."
"I know you. You'll be mad for a while, and then you'll realize I was right to do this, and then you'll forgive me." I pause. "Hopefully."
He laughs, a sound that breaks through the tension. "You're a stubborn pain sometimes. You know that?"
"Yeah, and you're being an asshole," I reply.
"But I'm your asshole," he says.
"That sounded way better in your head, didn't it?" I tease.
"Definitely. That came out completely wrong."
We're both laughing now, the tension breaking. It's not fixed. The anger is still there, simmering. But we're talking, we're laughing, and he's going to call the lawyer. That's all that matters.
"I should let you sleep," I say reluctantly. "You've got work in the morning."
"So do you. You've got that inspection tomorrow."
"Yeah. But I'll be thinking about you. Like always."
"Same. I'm always thinking about you. Every minute." He pauses. "Ivan?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For caring enough to fight with me about this. For caring enough to do something even when you knew I'd be angry."
"Always. That's what partners do."
"Partners. I like the sound of that."
"Me too. Goodnight, Jay."
"Goodnight, Ivan."
I hang up and lie back on my bed. Tomorrow, Jay will call Patricia. In two weeks, he'll go to court with proper representation.
And maybe, just maybe, this will work out the way it needs to.