Then I looked at the courthouse doors.
And I remembered where we were.
“I’ll see you inside,” I said.
Dad smirked.
“Yeah. You will.”
He thought that was the end of the conversation.
He had no idea it was the beginning.
PART 4: “MS. PARKER… YOU’RE JAG?”
When Judge Morrison asked whether I was JAG, I could feel my father’s confusion from across the room.
“Yes, Your Honor,” I answered.
“Judge Advocate General’s Corps?”
“Yes, Your Honor. I’m an attorney serving in the United States Army.”
The judge looked down at the document.
“Your filing indicates that you’re also admitted to the state bar.”
“That’s correct.”
Mr. Whitman’s pen stopped moving.
My mother stared at me.
My father frowned.
“What’s JAG?” he whispered.
Mom didn’t answer.
Judge Morrison continued reviewing the document.
“You’ve served as a judge advocate for a number of years?”
