Free Change of Heart by Sally Mandel Page B

Springs.”
    To Sharlie, Walter’s voice seemed a little sad. “It’s all right, Margaret. I wasn’t being literal.”
    Margaret said, “Oh,” and looked down, embarrassed. There was a short silence while she collected herself enough to smile at Brian again. The southern drawl was no longer in evidence.
    â€œTell me, Brian,” she said with effort. “You don’t find it uncomfortable working for a woman?”
    Oh, no, thought Sharlie, but Brian’s response was thoughtful and courteous.
    â€œShe’s never made an issue of it. I don’t think her being a woman has ever gotten in the way.”
    â€œThat’s because she doesn’t really qualify as one,” Walter remarked.
    Brian released Sharlie’s hand suddenly. She noted the tight set of his mouth and thought, Here it comes. She looked down at her hands and prayed that it wouldn’t be too awful.
    â€œYou know, Mr. Converse,” Brian said quietly, “a lot of men attack Barbara’s sex because they find her threatening. It’s a nice cheap shot.”
    Sharlie held her breath. Walter smiled with forced amiability and began, “Your loyalty …”
    But Brian held up his hand to stop him and went on in the same level voice.
    â€œShe gets a lot of crank letters, some of which have been traced to prominent members of the legal profession. They’re pretty sick pieces of paper, and I’ll spare you the details. But mostly they’re an expression of protest from sore losers, who find a strong woman too humiliating for their own precarious masculinity.”
    He stopped, and the two men stared at each other. Both pairs of eyes icy cold. Sharlie’s heart had stopped beating altogether, and Margaret wore a frantic smile as if to say, Aren’t we all having such a fine time together with such spirited conversation?
    Suddenly Walter cleared his throat and said, “I’d say you’re getting decent training.”
    Sharlie watched Brian hesitate. After a moment he nodded, acknowledging Walter’s compliment, and said, “I’m lucky.”
    Gracious winner, Sharlie thought, I love you.
    Over coffee the two men debated recent rulings by the Supreme Court, always on opposite sides of the issue, wary but polite. Sharlie began to feel uncomfortable again, but this time as if she’d gotten on the wrong train and couldn’t reconcile the landscape whizzing by the window with what she knew was supposed to be out there. Uneasily she listened to her father’s questions about Brian’s practice. This respectful person could not possibly be the same father whom she had so long ago learned to regard with fear. Was she going to have to shift her attitude at this late date?
    She remembered business associates of Walter’s commenting privately to her on his astute judgment, his uncanny insight, even—remarkably—his tact. She would nod and smile and label the speaker as the kind of person who would definitely buy a used car from Richard Nixon.
    Eventually Brian excused himself to go the men’s room. Sharlie and Margaret instinctively looked at Walter, their eyes questioning.
    Not meeting their gaze, he said, “Too bad he’s got himself tied up with that crazy female. Okay, she’s a good lawyer. But she’s definitely a dyke.”
    Ah, there’s my Dad, thought Sharlie, surprised at her relief.
    Outside the restaurant Brian got to the curb first and hailed a cab. He said he would walk home to work off his apple pie, but first held the door open for Sharlie. She slid inside, giving him a sickly smile. Margaret hesitated, then held out her hand and murmured how pleased she was to have met him. When she released his fingers and slipped into the taxi beside Sharlie, Brian turned to Walter, hand still extended. Walter brushed past him with a gruff good night, and Brian stuffed his hand into his pocket. The door slammed shut, and he