by Rachel Kane
“Tell me what’s going on!” said Theo, pleading with his brother. “What happened with Dad?”
Val grabbed Theo’s shoulders. Micah wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Val touch another person before.
“They took him to the hospital this morning. It’s bad. It’s…you really just need to come with me, right now. Okay? Just come right now?”
“Give me a second to put on some clothes,” said Theo, rushing in the direction of his house.
“Theo!” said Micah. “Call me, okay? Let me know how he’s doing!”
“I will!” yelled Theo, now running flat-out with Val beside him.
Micah watched until they had crossed the bend of the lake and were out of sight. Then he kept watching for a long time, as though Theo might suddenly appear again.
After a while he sat by the lake’s edge.
The dragonfly came back, alighting nearby. But he wasn’t as brilliant anymore. He was just another bug. Without Theo’s eyes, without his passion for color and light, the green was just…green. There was no magic.
* * *
“I thought he’d gone up to New York for meetings,” said Theo, in the back of the car rushing them up to Corinth. “What happened?”
Val shook his head. “I don’t know. Mother said he’d been having chest pains for days, but thought it was something he ate.”
“For days? Why didn’t he tell someone? Why didn’t he go to the doctor?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” said Val. “Apparently he had just reached the airport, when he collapsed.”
“Jesus, this is awful!”
Theo fidgeted. His hands were empty, and he wished he had something to do with them. A pencil, a brush, anything to work out this stress. His father was the most responsible man he’d ever met, how had he let this happen?
“Listen,” said Val, “one other thing. I hate to even bring it up right now.”
Theo turned and looked at his brother’s hang-dog expression. “What’s up?”
“I’m not sure what I walked in on back there at the lake…”
“Oh god, Val, not now.”
“Are you two—? Have you been—?”
“Seriously, it’s none of your business.”
Val pursed his lips and looked out the window. “You can’t do that, you know. You can’t sleep with the help.”
“The help? What century are you from again? I’ve known Micah my whole life—”
“Yes, because his mother is part of the staff. Look, I like Micah as much as anyone. He’s a sweet kid. But whatever you think is going on between you two, it can’t happen.”
For Theo, it was too much.
He was looking at his future with mingled hope and despair. Paris was exciting. It was the most adventurous thing that had ever happened to him. But it was scary too, and he knew he was going to miss home, and more than that, miss Micah.
Come with me, Micah had said, so simply, like it was something you could do, like you could drop everything, all your plans, all the money and influence your parents had wielded to set you up for your future.
If anything happened to his father, that future might be in jeopardy. Everything would be in jeopardy.
But Theo wasn’t soulless. The idea of his father collapsing at the airport had gripped his own heart with pain and fear. Forget the money, forget the plans. Dad was Dad, the strongest, most powerful man he’d ever known. He couldn’t be sick. He couldn’t.
And now this? Why would Val suddenly intrude in his private life like this?
“Look, just because you are going to be a dried-up old virgin your entire life, doesn’t mean I have to be. What Micah and I have is special, and it’s none of your fucking business.”
Val didn’t bristle at this. It was impossible to offend him. Theo had certainly tried. Sometimes it felt like he’d been trying to get a rise out of Val his entire life.
“Everything about you is my business,” Val said calmly. “Because everything you do reflects on the family.”
It took a minute for his meaning to sink in.
“You’re already doing it,” said Theo. “You’re acting like Dad is dead. Thinking of yourself as taking over the family. Is that it? Is that what you really think is going to happen? You’re a fucking ghoul, Val.”
The car was silent for the rest of the trip. Not a word between them. Theo rushed past him when they reached the hospital, hoping to reach his father first.
“Theo,” whispered his father. It was hard to hear him through the oxygen mask.
“You can’t stay long,” cautioned the nurse, but Theo brushed her aside. He took his dad’s hand, careful not to touch the needle taped to the skin, or the little meter they’d attached to his finger. There was almost nowhere he could grab hold to.
“I’m here,” Theo said, tears pricking his eyes. “You’re going to be okay. It’s going to be fine.”
There was kindness in his father’s eyes, as he shook his head. “No. Not much longer,” he said.
“You’re going to be with us decades to come,” insisted Theo.
“Promise me…” His father’s whisper was lost amid the sounds of the machinery.
“Anything, Dad. Anything you need, tell me.”
“Stay.”
“Of course. I’ll sit right here. Forget what the nurse said, I’ll—”
“No…no. Stay. Here. With family. Forget Paris.”
Theo’s eyes grew wide. “You mean…don’t go to school?”
“Your mother needs you. Val…even Val needs you.”
What could he say? He couldn’t argue with his father. Not if this was his deathbed. Not if these were the last moments he would ever spend with the man who had encouraged him, who had always pushed him to be his best.
The man who’d argued in favor of Paris to begin with. The man who had made all the arrangements and signed all the checks, who had put his foot down when Theo’s mother objected to her little boy going off to Europe all by himself.
And now he was asking Theo to stay. To give up the dream.
What could he say? Tears in his eyes, he would’ve agreed to anything just then. “Of course,” he said, smoothing his father’s hair back. “I’ll stay. Don’t worry about that. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“He’s right, Father,” said Val.
Theo tensed when he heard his brother’s voice. Val walked to the other side of the hospital bed. “We’re going to take care of everything. The business is going to be in good hands, between the two of us.”
Val gave Theo a significant look.
His father touched Theo’s wrist. “Listen to Val. Do what he says. He’s in charge now.”
Theo couldn’t meet Val’s eyes. He knew how that was going to be interpreted. No more dating the help. No Paris. No anything. His father might not have realized it, but he was sentencing Theo to a cold, small world…the world of colorless seriousness that Val inhabited.
“Promise me,” his father whispered.
They were the last words he ever heard his father speak.
2
Micah
Judge Murphy looked over his glasses at us. His face was unreadable, just the way he liked it. My client, Braddock Moore, wasn’t looking at him. He had his eyes cast down at the legal pad in front of him, a pad on which I’d written: Do Not Glare At Judge. So far, he’d managed not to glare, glower, or otherwise visually threaten anyone in the courtroom, which I considered a small victory in itself.
“I don’t like games,” said Judge Murphy, pushing up his glasses. “I don’t think law is a game, and I don’t think it should be played like one. The law is the highest statement of principles a state can aspire to, and as such, it deserves respect. Respect for the law itself, and for the traditions of how it is interpreted.”
Oh hell. When Judge Murphy went into a sermon, you were doomed. I looked across the aisle at my opposing counsel. Both she and the plaintiff were looking very pleased with themselves. I got a sinking feeling i
n my chest.
We’d fought a good case, with what we had to work with. Braddock Moore lived in that hazy world between being a crook and a legitimate businessman. Too smart to spell out his links to organized crime, too vain not to hint at them. If you tried to pin him down, he gave you a toothy smile and said naw, naw, I’m honest. You trust me, doncha?
“The defendant,” continued Judge Murphy, “seems to see his whole life as a game. Seeing what he can get away with. Skirting the edge of the law, staying just close enough within the line that he doesn’t get caught.”
Well, I’m doomed, I thought. The minute the judge found for the plaintiff, Braddock was on the hook for a quarter million dollars, possibly more in punitive damages. That was not going to do good things for my reputation in town. Our law practice was small, and Braddock had been our biggest client thus far.
“The problem with these games, aside from their insult to this bench, to the dignity of both the law and the court that upholds the law, is that sometimes, they work. Because being on the right side of the law, even if you’re skirting the edge, puts you in the right.”
Braddock glanced up at me, but I was looking over at opposing counsel. Their smiles had quickly faded.
“Counselor,” Judge Murphy said to me, staring right down into my soul, “I think you ought to be ashamed of the case you’ve brought here. Zealously defending your client is one thing; dragging out every technicality in hopes that one of them will stick, is something else entirely.”
I nodded deferentially. You don’t argue with the judge. Especially not when you don’t know whether things are going your way or not.
“I am especially disappointed with plaintiff’s case,” the judge continued, and now I felt an actual spark of hope in my heart. “It’s not for me to lecture you on how badly your discovery was handled, but I think you know you missed the boat on this one. Braddock Moore was guilty as sin, but you failed to prove it.”
Braddock was beaming now, his big ugly sneer about as happy as his face could get.
“As such,” said the judge, “I have no choice but to find for the defendant. God have mercy on us all. I’m sure I’ll see you in here again soon enough, Mr. Moore, and we’ll see how well your luck holds out. Court is adjourned.”
“Holy shit,” said Braddock Moore. “I knew I picked the right man for the job.”
I was putting my papers away. “Congratulations,” I said. “It was a tough case.”
“Naw, not with you on my side. You’re a damn shark, you know that? A fucking great white shark. Listen, Reynolds, I’ve got another little matter that you can help me with.”
Great. I wasn’t really ready for more skullduggery from him. As it was, I wanted a nice long bath to wash off the dirt of this case. I smiled as politely as possible. “Why don’t I give you a call next Monday—”
But of course, you don’t put off Braddock Moore. You don’t counter-offer. He leaned in close.
“You want the business or not? You’re in the spotlight right now, but there’s a thousand other hungry lawyers in the sea, my friend.”
Go find one of them, then, I thought.
I didn’t get into law to represent men like Braddock Moore. Judge Murphy was right. If Braddock wasn’t a crook, he was doing his best to make everyone think he was one. Shady business deals, things that looked like insurance scams, money hidden in shell companies.
Yet, I’d won the case for him, and couldn’t help feeling a little pride in that. Maybe it was the confidence from winning, that let me stand up to him just now.
“There’s a thousand other lawyers, but only one who could’ve beaten this case. I’ll call you Monday. Go enjoy your weekend, and the quarter million dollars I saved you.”
He glared at me a moment, that patented glare that always got people cowering…but then that softened into a grin. He smacked me on the shoulder with a meaty hand.
“Goddamn it, I knew I had a damn shark! You enjoy your weekend. I’ll be on your ass the minute you get back. You’re gonna love this next case.”
“Man of the hour!” said Bernard, my partner at the firm. I was greeted by laughter and light applause from the office, and Bernard came over to shake my hand.
“News travels fast,” I said, throwing my case onto the desk.
Our secretary Debra handed over a stack of messages. “The phone hasn’t stopped ringing since you won.”
“Busy, busy,” I said, looking down at the pink notes. “Who’s up first?”
“Your mother,” she said, tapping the top message.
“My mom?” I glanced down. Sure enough, there was her number, with the word Urgent next to it.
“She called three times. Says it’s important,” said Debra.
I hoped nothing was wrong. I flipped through the rest of the messages as I walked upstairs to my office, with Bernard trailing behind. “I need to talk to you after you speak to your mom,” he told me.
We’d leased this Second Empire-style office building last year, after an old textile concern went bankrupt. It wasn’t sleek and modern like many of the law offices in town, but it had character. There was something comforting about the way the stairs squeaked underfoot, the way the windows seemed wavy with age.
I set the messages next to the big black office phone on the old escritoire I’d found here when we’d leased the place, and threw myself onto the sofa near the window. “That was crazy,” I said to Bernard, dialing my mom. “I had no idea what was going to happen.”
Bernard grinned, and went to stand by the window, looking down at the street. “Too damn suspenseful for my blood.”
“Micah, is that you?” asked my mother.
She never trusted the caller ID on her cell phone. “Yes, Mom. Debra says you had an emergency, is everything all right? Do you feel okay?”
“Feel? Oh, no, it’s not that, I’m fine dear. It’s… Oh, how to tell you?”
I grimaced at Bernard; he gave me a concerned look.
“Just take it slowly, Mom.”
“It’s Mrs. Harrison. She’s fired me.”
“She what?”
“Gave me my notice, just this morning! Oh Micah, what am I going to do?”
“Why would she fire you?” I asked, standing back up. “You’ve worked for the Harrisons for decades!”
My mom, normally so strong, so reserved, sniffled into the phone, and it broke my heart to hear. She simply didn’t react like this to anything. “They’re getting rid of the house. No need for a housekeeper if you don’t have the house. After all I’ve done for that family, they’re going to sweep me aside like yesterday’s newspaper.”
“That is insane,” I said. “But look, don’t worry yourself, we’ll figure something out.”
“I thought maybe if you had a spare room…”
Oh, hell.
“I’m afraid I don’t have a spare room,” I said, which made Bernard look at me quizzically.
“You don’t?” she asked. “Your house was so big, when you and Jerome showed it to me.”
I nearly dropped the phone.
How had I not told her?
“Mom… Jerome and I broke up a few months ago.”
She gasped. “What? That nice boy?”
Bernard sat up and mouthed, You didn’t tell her?
I waved him away. Of course I didn’t tell her. I’d hardly talked to her. Life had gotten so busy, so frantically busy.
Things hadn’t been the same since Jerome left. But I thought they’d been better. Hadn’t they? No more of those painful late-night conversations. C’mon, when are you going to put that work away and spend time with me? We ought to get away somewhere. Why are you looking at your phone, we’re having a conversation!
Jerome never understood what it was like to have a career like mine. I didn’t come from money. My college had been paid for by the family my mom worked for, but law school had been all me, and I had the student loan bills to prove it. If I was going to have a name in this town, I knew I’d have t
o work hard to make my mark.
Of course, Jerome couldn’t grasp that. He didn’t see that every late night, every working weekend, was another step forward to the goal.
Now that he was gone I could work as much as I wanted, any time I wanted. It was great. Some nights I didn’t even sleep, I’d just keep the coffee brewing so I could work the whole night through; I’d run out to shower at the gym and come right back to the office.
And if my body felt exhausted by that…well, it’s just a body, after all. There would be plenty of time to sleep when I was the most sought-after lawyer in Corinth.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Mom. I guess things got so hectic after that… But look, that’s neither here nor there. What do you need me to do? Should I come down there to help you pack things up? Or do you want me to talk to Mrs. Harrison?”
“Oh no, don’t do that,” she said. “You remember what she’s like. Once she has made up her mind, it stays made up. I’m surprised the house isn’t already emptied out. But…do come up, if you can. The lake is beautiful this time of year, and you should see it one last time, shouldn’t you? I know you used to love it.”
I’m not a nostalgic person. I always look forward, not backward. Ignore the past, plan for the future, that’s my motto.
The lake.
I hadn’t been back there since the day I left for college.
I’d tried not to think about it, not even once.
Bad memories. Well, painful ones, really. Nostalgia like a knife in the chest.
Nobody had time for that. Certainly not me.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said. “We’ll get something arranged, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”
“I can only hope someday I have a son as big a pushover as you,” said Bernard, lounging in the chair opposite. “I’ll take care of you.”
“Damn, are you making fun of me?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I guess I’m serious. You’re a good son. That was sweet.”
