“Judge Walsh’s Chambers.”
“This is Dorothy Hamilton. I’d like to speak with Margaret about a case coming before her court.”
There was a pause. “Dorothy Hamilton, as in Dorothy Mitchell Hamilton?”
“Yes.”
“Please hold.”
Another pause, longer this time. Then, “Dorothy, my God, is it really you?”
“Little did they know, I had been preparing for this moment my entire life.”
“Margaret,” I said into the phone, 30 years of memories flooding back. “It’s really me, Dorothy Mitchell.”
“I should have realized when I saw the name on the docket, Hamilton versus Hamilton. Your daughter suing you?” I could hear the disbelief in her voice.
Margaret Walsh had been Margaret O’Brien when we were in law school together at Harvard. We’d studied together, competed together, and graduated in the same class of 1982.
“She thinks I’m an incompetent old woman who stumbled into a fortune,” I said. “She has no idea who I used to be.”
Margaret’s laugh was the same as it had been 40 years ago. “Dorothy the Destroyer Mitchell, incompetent? That’s rich. Do you remember the Heartwell case? You eviscerated three expert witnesses in one afternoon.”
I did remember. It had been my biggest case before I retired. Before I met Robert, before I became just Mom.
“Margaret, I need to ask you something. Can you ethically hear this case, given our history?”
“We were colleagues, not close friends. And it’s been decades since we’ve spoken. But, Dorothy, if you’re planning what I think you’re planning—”
“I’m not planning anything except defending myself against false accusations.”
“With representation, I hope.”
I looked at Robert’s photo on my mantle. “I’ll represent myself.”
Margaret was quiet for a long moment. “Dorothy, you’ve been out of practice for 30 years. Law has changed. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’ve kept my license active. I’ve been reading case law, following changes in legal procedure. Old habits die hard.”
“Your daughter’s attorney is James Morrison. He’s good, experienced in elder law.”
“I know. I’d been researching him since receiving the lawsuit. He’s won 80% of his competency cases. He specializes in families who want to declare elderly relatives incompetent to gain control of their assets.”
“You realize what you’re walking into?”
I stood up and walked to my study, surrounded by the law books I’d never gotten rid of, the case studies I’d annotated over the years.
“Margaret, do you remember what Professor Williams used to say?”
“Never let them see you coming.”
“Exactly.”
After we hung up, I spent the evening reviewing my old files, cases I’d won, strategies I’d employed, and the methodical preparation that had made me one of the most feared attorneys on the East Coast.