“Lacey likes to sleep with me after a bad dream,” Dan said against Graham’s back as they spooned a few minutes later.
“She does, does she?” Graham yawned and closed his eyes.
“Yep.” He squeezed Graham.
“What if we both have bad dreams at the same time?” Graham asked.
“Kids come first.”
Graham laughed. “Sucks to be an adult sometimes. And then others….” He wouldn’t think about the crap that used to dog him. He only wanted to think about Dan and how good he felt right now. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, but it took him nearly an hour to get back to sleep. And still the dreams lurked in the darkness.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
FRIDAY morning, Graham woke before dawn. Next to him in the bed, Dan slept like the dead. Not surprising, since Graham had woken him up in the middle of the night. He’d probably tossed and turned after that, although he thankfully hadn’t woken Dan again.
Graham slipped out of bed and dressed for a run. It was cold outside, but the wind against his face felt good. After all the food he’d eaten, it took him nearly a mile before he started to get into the groove and feel good about the run. He ran without really thinking about where he was headed, but when he wound up in front of his old high school, he wasn’t all that surprised. He’d wanted to see it again, needed to see it, although why, he wasn’t sure.
The building, like everything else, looked smaller. Shabbier too. The tall columns that had been painted white were now a faded yellow and peeling. Dan’s father had mentioned that the school district was thinking of closing the high school because of low enrollment and moving the remaining students to the neighboring county’s school.
Graham ran to the side of the building to the football field. Aluminum bleachers replaced the wooden ones. He ran up the bleachers and sat at the top. The dormant grass awaited the return of the players. The painted lines had mostly disappeared, but here and there crumbling streaks of white appeared, almost like snow.
Graham expected he’d feel something. But as he looked out over what he’d come to think of as the site of his personal defeat—his Waterloo—he felt nothing. This place wasn’t a trigger for his memories. It was just a place.
He remained seated a few minutes longer, then headed back to the road. His running watch registered less than two miles, yet another reminder of how small everything here really was. By the time he reached the apartment complex on the edge of town, the sun had erased most of the shadows.
He followed the path he’d taken hundreds of times as a kid to the center of the complex and Building Four. There he looked up to the second-floor balcony he’d often sat on, reading a book and dreaming about being anywhere but there. The buildings, unlike the school, had been well cared-for.
A woman stepped onto one of the balconies and shook out a small rug. Graham could imagine his mother doing the same. Their one-bedroom apartment had been small, but she’d kept it clean. He remembered tiptoeing around her, asleep on the pull-out couch in the living room, when he left for school in the mornings. Her night shift job had taken a lot out of her, but she’d always left him a note and a lunch in the fridge.
The memory had him blinking back tears and smiling. Life had been difficult before she met Bo Swann. She often spoke of Bo as her Prince Charming. But it wasn’t Bo’s money that she’d cared about. He’d made her happy and he’d treated her like a princess. He’d worshipped her and loved her. She died within six months of her beloved prince. He’d been devastated and angry, still missed her every day, but they were together again, the way it was meant to be.
Graham wiped his eyes, took one last look at his old home, then ran back toward Dan’s house. He only made it another mile when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of its holder and tapped the screen.
“Graham?”
“Hey.” Hearing Dan’s voice made him smile.
“I woke up and you weren’t here. I was worried.”
“Sorry I worried you. I went for a run and went a bit farther than planned. I’m on my way back. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“Great. If last night’s dinner wasn’t enough, wait ’til you get a load of my mom’s breakfast.” Dan laughed. “I probably should have gone for a run myself.”
“We can run together tomorrow if you’d like. My running app shows a trail alongside the river that goes for about ten miles.”
“Sounds great.”
“I’ll see you in few.” Graham disconnected the call and stashed his phone back in the armband.
Hey, Mom. Do you think I might find the same kind of happiness you did?
The answer came silently, in his mother’s voice. “Happiness doesn’t find you. You let yourself be happy.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“SPEND the night here?” Dan asked after they’d unloaded the car. The four-hour drive had taken nearly seven, what with Lacey’s frequent bathroom trips after downing three big glasses of sweet tea at dinner.
“I should get home,” Graham replied. He hadn’t said much on the way home. It was as if the farther they got from the mountains, the tenser Graham became.
“I… sure. It was a long day.” Dan brushed the back of Graham’s hand with his own. He didn’t seem to notice, instead picking up several of Lacey’s toys and placing them in the big bucket in the family room.
“Daddy, my ear hurts,” Lacey said. Her nose was still running, and Dan guessed he’d be taking her to the pediatrician the next morning. The doctor said kids grew out of frequent ear infections around four, but so far Lacey was bucking the trend.
“You heading out?” Dan asked as Graham snagged his suitcase from the front hallway.
“I’m beat.” Graham set the suitcase down and hugged Lacey.
“You comin’ for dinner tomorrow?” she asked.
“I’ve got a lot of work,” Graham said and forced a smile. “Maybe later in the week.”
“Okay.” Lacey screwed up her nose and sniffled. Dan went to grab a clean tissue, and when he got back, Graham was gone.
Dan sighed and wiped Lacey’s nose. A minute later Graham came back into the house, frowning. “Have you seen my keys?” he asked.
“I set them in the console,” Dan replied. “Remember? You dropped them and—”
“Right. I’ll grab them on my way to the car.” Graham was out the door before Dan could kiss him good night.
Strange. He’d never seen Graham misplace anything, but with the sunglasses he’d misplaced that morning—they’d been on his head the entire time—now he’d done it twice in one day. And leaving without a kiss…? He’s tired. We’re all tired.
Lacey yawned and rubbed her ear again.
“Time for bed, munchkin,” Dan said and swept her into his arms. He reached her room as the headlights of Graham’s car lit the street below.
Dan tucked Lacey into bed, then went downstairs to lock up. He was just about at the front door when he noticed something on the front table. Graham’s wallet. Good thing he’d see him first thing the next morning.
Forty-five minutes later, having unpacked his toiletries and tossed his dirty clothing in the hamper, Dan fell back in bed. The holiday had been a good one, he reminded himself. Graham and his parents had gotten on just fine. They all just needed to get a good night’s sleep.
A WEEK passed, but things with Graham still seemed off. It hadn’t helped that Dan ended up working at home to take care of Lacey, who’d run a slight fever in spite of the antibiotics the doctor had prescribed when her ear infection didn’t resolve on its own. The weekend hadn’t been much better, and had included a late-night visit to the neighborhood urgent care. By Monday morning, though, Lacey was back to her usual self and Dan made it into the office. He’d barely seen Graham since they’d returned from Thanksgiving, except for a quick visit Graham had made to drop off a new coloring book for Lacey over the weekend.
“I’m thinking we’ll be good to go for a run tomorrow night,” Dan said as they wor
ked through a large file for a case headed to mediation.
Graham grunted in reply.
Dan glanced up from the documents he’d been reviewing to find Graham gazing out the window. “Something bothering you?” he asked.
“Why would you think that?” Graham’s shoulders tensed as he spoke.
“You seem a little preoccupied, that’s all.”
Graham shrugged. “Just trying to get my head in the game. Focus on work after eating way too much.”
Dan didn’t buy it. An hour before when he’d asked Graham about a deposition they’d discussed before Thanksgiving, Graham had looked at Dan as though he was speaking a foreign language. The difference in Graham’s demeanor worried Dan. He racked his brains to come up with a reason for the change, but came up empty. Graham hadn’t completely retreated into his self-imposed fortress, but he hadn’t opened up any more either.
Slow and steady wins the race. Give him the space he needs and maybe he’ll open up about it.
“You still okay to meet with that potential new client I told you about?” Dan asked as he gathered his share of the documents they’d been discussing.
“New client?”
Dan frowned. He’d told Graham about a possible new case the Monday after they’d returned from his parents’. “Retaliation case.”
“Right. Sure. What time is she coming in?”
“He,” Dan corrected. Graham obviously hadn’t heard him when he’d explained the case, or he’d completely forgotten.
“Right. He. Sorry about that.”
Patience. “He’ll be here at eleven. I thought we could both speak to him in the small conference room.”
Graham nodded. “Works for me. I’ve got one call to make before that. Just buzz me when he arrives and I’ll meet you.”
“PHIL Charles, this is Graham Swann. Graham, this is Phil, the potential client I mentioned,” Dan said.
“Good to meet you,” Graham said and shook Phil’s hand.
Phil met his gaze with confidence. Graham guessed he was in his midforties. He’d recently been laid off from a large software company. “Thanks for taking the time. Dan explained that you have the final say as to whether the firm will take my case. I appreciate the opportunity.”
“Please,” Graham said, gesturing to the table, “have a seat. Would you like something to drink? We have coffee, soda, or water if you’d like.”
“J-just a water would be great. Thank you.”
Graham reached into the small fridge near the door and retrieved a bottle. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Phil sat and opened the bottle, then took a long drink. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little nervous.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Dan said. “Take your time.” He and Graham sat facing Phil.
Phil nodded. “Okay. First off, I guess I should tell you that I chose your firm because a friend of mine, Larry Gaines, mentioned you’d done some work for him and that you, ah, might be friendly to someone like me.”
“Like you? What do you mean?” Graham prompted.
“I’m gay.”
“Okay.” Graham offered Phil what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
“That’s not a problem?”
“Not a problem.” Graham picked up a legal pad and began to take notes.
Phil looked relieved. “Good, because my case has… I mean, I think it’s a lot to do with that.”
“Please, go ahead.” Graham leaned back in his chair. They’d taken a few discrimination cases over the years, but lately they’d had more than their fair share, probably because of all the hoopla over House Bill 2, the so-called “bathroom bill.”
“I-I’ve been working at Landric for… I guess it’s been about fifteen years.” Phil shifted in his seat. “Since I graduated from State. I thought it was a pretty good place to work. Good benefits, you know. Even has childcare on campus. I—we, my husband and I—have two kids.”
“How old are your children?” Graham asked.
“R-Rory’s five and Marcie… she’s seven. We had them by surrogate… adopted them when they were born.” Phil seemed to realize he’d left out an important piece, because he added, “M-my husband’s name is Tom. Tom Landers. We got married right after it became legal in North Carolina. Last spring—” Phil frowned and his eyes filled with tears. “—Tom got diagnosed with cancer.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. How is he doing?” Graham asked.
“The chemo’s made him pretty sick, but his prognosis is good.” Phil flashed them a nervous smile.
Graham nodded. “That’s good to hear. And you’re here because of him, aren’t you?”
“R-right. I mean, yes.” Phil blew air from between tense lips. “Company policy is that once you’ve been with the company for ten years, you get four weeks of paid leave to care for sick family members. That’s b-before you have to apply for FMLA leave.
“Honestly, I didn’t even think about it. I m-mean, Tom and I are legally married. We’ve been together for almost fifteen years. But when I went to HR to file the paperwork so I could be with him during chemo, they flat out told me same-sex partners weren’t included in the definition of family.
“I didn’t know what to say. I mean, I reminded her that Tom was my husband. But it didn’t seem to matter.
“Tom and I talked about it. We knew if I pushed it, I might lose my job. But we’ve got a decent amount saved, and his job pays well. I went back to HR and when they told me the same thing they said before, I went to senior management. But after two weeks, no one had gotten back to me.”
Phil picked up his bottle of water and drank the rest of it.
“You okay?” Dan asked.
Phil nodded. “It… it still gets me upset. Here I am, worried that I might not have a husband, and I’m having to fight for something the company promised me.”
“Did you bring a copy of the employee handbook?” Dan asked.
“Yes.” Phil pulled some papers from his briefcase and handed them to Dan with a shaking hand.
“Thanks. This is very helpful.” Dan set the documents in front of Graham. He’d look at them later.
Phil seemed to relax a bit.
“What happened after the two weeks went by?” Graham asked.
“Right. I met with my manager and his boss,” Phil explained. “I reminded them that Tom’s chemo was supposed to start that week, and I really needed an answer. I was so pissed. I told them if they didn’t get back to me by the end of the week, I’d go to the media.”
“Did you?” Graham asked.
Phil sighed. “No. Tom convinced me that wasn’t going to help anything. I was just talking out of anger. But the next thing I know, I’m being laid off. They said it was a RIF—a reduction in force—but that made no sense at all. I’m the manager of one of the busiest teams at the company. They asked me to sign something in return for three months’ severance. I refused.”
“Smart man.” Too many times, Graham had seen solid legal claims disappear as part of a severance package. Companies knew that people with their backs to the wall, afraid of what might happen if they couldn’t make ends meet, were easy targets.
“When I spoke with Dan—I mean Mr. Parker—over the phone,” Phil continued, “he mentioned that these—you know, cases like mine—are the types of cases where companies usually want to settle, that going to court can really hurt them… you know, from a PR perspective.”
“That’s often true,” Graham agreed. “What do you want to see happen?”
“I d-don’t want my job back. I’ve thought about it, and I don’t want to work for people like that. I’ve got a line on a few new jobs… through some of my industry contacts…. This is about sending a message. I d-don’t want the next man or woman this happens to going through what I did. If I get some money out of it, so be it. But it’s not… it’s not about money.”
“Thank you for telling us your story,” Graham said. “I know this must be difficult.”
“Will you help me?” Phil
asked.
“Dan and I will discuss the facts and decide whether our firm is a good fit for you.” Graham never committed to taking a case without thinking it over and poking around a bit on his own.
“Oh. Okay.”
Phil looked a bit crestfallen, but he perked up when Graham said, “We’ll be back in touch with you early next week with a decision. But if you have any questions in the meantime, feel free to give me or Dan a call.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
“I’ll show you out.” Dan pointed to the handbook. “Can we keep this, or do you need us to make a copy?”
“No need. I have the original and a few copies.” Phil got to his feet. “Thanks again for meeting with me.”
“Thank you for coming.” Graham shook Phil’s hand and Dan led him out of the room.
Graham retrieved the employee handbook and paged through it while he waited for Dan to return. Phil’s was a pretty straightforward case. Nothing they couldn’t handle. He flipped through his notes and wrote the word SETTLEMENT at the top of the first page.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“WHAT do you think?” Dan asked as he walked back into Graham’s office.
“He’s got a great breach of contract claim,” Graham said as he scribbled something on his notepad. “Employee handbook is pretty clear. After ten years with the company, they offer four weeks’ paid leave before FMLA kicks in. They denied his request and fired him when he pressed the issue.” He chuckled. “Knowing your way with words, I give them about a month before they make an offer that’s in the ballpark.”
“That’s it?” Dan shouldn’t be surprised at Graham’s response. The contract claim was the safest, of course. But Phil clearly wanted them to pursue the discrimination angle.
Graham looked up and frowned. “I’m not following.”
“We both know why they fired him.”
“And?”
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