I peeked in and saw her framed diplomas sat stacked, patiently awaiting to be hung. I felt a slight wave of nostalgia as I looked floor to ceiling around the office that star litigator Lindsay was about to make her own. 22 years ago that room first became mine. She would be the fourth of us to call it hers.
In 2000, after 17 years of working in humble suites across the street from the courthouse, the firm made its big move to Little Bohemia. That same season, my husband John got his diagnosis. After years of him defying the prognosis of imminent death, the day eventually arrived when home hospice for him meant a move to a home office for me. My first Angela, the one whose name joined mine on the door, took my place in a beloved space and filled it with her sparkle.
Under her enthusiasm, the firm grew. So did our need for more square feet. Angela had the brilliant idea to buy and renovate the building next door. She did just that. There she wrote books and managed much from a spacious and elegant chamber while allowing another to assume her haven.