Free One Dead Lawyer by Tony Lindsay Page A

cut over to me. I had no comment.
    â€œHe needs a man in his life. The truth be said, we both need a man in our lives.” Again her eyes cut to me. “A real man, a take-charge, get-involved, decision-making man, a man who is not afraid of the responsibilities of family life. In my opinion men are supposed to lead, not offer options for consideration, which is what my current man does. I haven’t had the best examples of men around Stanley. And that includes my father.”
    It became obvious that she wasn’t going to stop talking and offer driving directions to the lawyer’s office. Instinctively, I headed downtown.
    â€œMy current man is a boy himself, an infatuated boy. I didn’t date with Stanley in mind, and I should have. I dated men who could help me financially, not thinking that these men were Stanley’s male role models.
    â€œNinety-eight percent of the men I dated thought I was stupid because they were more financially adept than I. They all erroneously concluded that since I didn’t know about managing money, I didn’t know about managing life. I put up with their condescending attitudes to learn about money management, but Stanley witnessed me being subservient to them.
    â€œIt wasn’t like they were calling me ‘bitch’ or slapping me around, but he did see me bow down. And I believe since he is coming into his manhood, he is expecting females to bow down and treat him in the skewed fashion he observed as a child. The budding boy wants to be a man, but he has the incorrect template.
    â€œSo yes, he is a challenge, but I am largely responsible for what he is, and I am not too proud to say that I need help in making him a man. I am trying to save my son too; save him from the male examples I provided.”
    She looked out the window as she spoke, I heard her voice calming and then something my grandmother used to say entered my mind.
    â€œDaphne, there are no perfect children or parents. Raising kids is a hard thing to do. As my grandmother would tell my mother, ‘Baby, after you raised some chilrens, ya have done somethin’.”
    Daphne didn’t comment, but she did chuckle a little; either at my bad imitation of my grandmother or at the pigeon poop that suddenly splattered on the driver’s side of the windshield. Two quick pushes on the wiper control, three wipes of the blades and the poop was gone. The DTS didn’t play. It did everything to exactness. Traffic going toward the loop was light. We cruised all the way downtown.
    â€œSo who is the lawyer we’re going to see?” We were coming up on downtown exits and I needed directions.
    â€œWe are going to see an associate of mine. Trust me on this, D. I won’t steer you wrong. Please believe.”
    I had not been around Daphne enough to become familiar with what her expressions meant, but I would have bet a dollar to a doughnut that the way she sat up and the way her jaws locked meant baby girl was getting ready for a challenge.
    â€œAnd you say this lawyer is familiar with how Regina’s people do business?”
    â€œYes, very familiar.” Her tone was not friendly. It was sharp and snippy.
    â€œExit on the Congress Parkway, David. You can go north on Dearborn then loop around to the parking garage on LaSalle.”
    Her whole persona changed once we were downtown. There was a military-like stiffness about her. A hardness was present. I said nothing; we were on her turf. A brother like me followed suit and put on my stone-hard game face.
    While we were inside the parking garage the attendant directed us to a slot designated for monthly parks and didn’t ask us for a dime. I thought it strange, but again she didn’t comment, so neither did I.
    I was cool with the hardcore demeanor while downtown. In my experience it proved best to be direct when dealing with folks in the loop. Directness is respected in Chicago. With stern face mode engaged, we