by Alice Ward
“I am, indeed.” I put my hands on my hips, and he saw the defiance in me for the first time. “If you don’t straighten that all out, we’re doomed to fail.”
“Liane, the name doesn’t matter. I have all the identification I need. I can get a marriage license. It’s no big deal.”
“It is to me. That’s the condition. I don’t care if you straighten out the name and then legally change it to Hawk Sansabri, but you need to make this right. If you don’t, you’ll continue to harbor this resentment, and that’s like an acid. You don’t need to be his son or even his friend. You don’t need to talk to him ever again. You do, however, need to stand up for yourself and walk out into the open. It’s the only way, Hawk.”
I could tell by the look on his face that although he wanted to fight me on this, he understood and agreed with everything I was saying. I didn’t want it to be hard for him, but I knew it would only become harder.
His shoulders slumped. “Okay.”
I kissed him again and this time, he held on to me as if I were a lifesaver. “It’s okay, my love. I’m here and always will be. Remember our connection? We’ll get through this together.”
Hawk
I drove Liane back to her car that day and headed home to begin my plan. As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. My sense of revenge had been the driving force behind my success. It was time that my wife to be serve as that incentive. She deserved to marry a man who was honest with the world. I couldn’t fault her for that and in reality, wanted it no other way.
When I reached home, I showered and called an attorney I used in California. He had handled the paperwork when I sold my company there. Although he suspected something wasn’t quite right in the documentation regarding my name, it was in his interest to say nothing. Since he still filed corporate paperwork for me, I was protected by client/attorney privilege. I came clean to him on the phone, and he said while he didn’t have a license to practice in Kentucky, he’d make inquiries and get me answers.
He called back within the hour. “You’ve got nothing outstanding on your real name. Those were juvenile charges that were expunged when you turned eighteen. Now, you’re a bit sticky because you re-entered this country under an assumed name and that’s a felony. Don’t ask me why when the illegals are given better treatment than the working man citizen, but hey, that’s a political game, and I don’t get into that. So, what we have to do is file for a new passport for you, then get your driver’s license, etc. Can you get me a copy of your birth certificate?”
“Probably. I was born here in Kentucky.”
“Do it. You’ll have to go in without identification and tell them you were robbed or something. Figure that out according to your law there and don’t bring my name into it. I’m not supposed to be advising you outside of California.”
“I get it. Then what?”
“Then get me the certificate and at the same time, apply for a driver’s license. Give them the same story. You might have to take the driver’s test because they won’t have anything on record for you. Shit. You might even have to get a permit first. I’ll work on a workaround for that. Tell them as little as possible and don’t bring up the Sansabri name. Use only your real name. Now comes the next question. Are you going to legally change your name to Sansabri or keep LaViere? If you decide on LaViere, we need to go to court and get a judge’s approval to change all these corporate documents. You’ve been involved in fraud, my boy. It’s a helluva tangled web you’ve woven for yourself. It might come with a slap on the wrist and some fines.”
“I get that. Let’s just get it over with. Do you need me out there?”
“Not yet. I’ll send some power of attorney documents to you, and you shoot them back. If we have to go before a judge, I’ll call you if you need to fly in.”
I hung up the phone and felt suddenly much lighter. Lies were heavy to carry around. My phone rang again. It was the attorney.
“The presiding judge is up for re-election.”
“How much?”
“Maybe fifty thousand?”
“I’ll send a draft.”
Everything, even justice, could be bought for a price.
***
I waited in line and watched the people around me. A young woman was sitting in one of the hard, wooden chairs. She was clutching her ticket number in one hand and breastfeeding a child with the other. Around her were a half dozen more kids in stepping-stone ages. I wondered to myself what kind of future this woman had to look forward to. The high point of her life ended when that first child was conceived.
There was a Hispanic family clustered around their patriarch. He held his number ticket as though it was a ticket to Heaven. I easily understood what was being said and realized they were all illegals and had come with a story prepared. Their dream would be to walk out with birth certificates, yet they probably didn’t have a hundred words of English between them.
There were a few teens, evidently on their way to the license bureau or perhaps to file for Medicaid or maybe even get into the service. I wanted to send them out into the sunlight and tell them to run. They were about to get enmeshed in the system, but then so was I. What the fuck am I doing here?
It was my turn then. “I’d like a copy of my birth certificate, please.”
She held out her hand. “Driver’s license, social security card, and one other piece of identification.”
I slid her the piece of paper with the judge’s seal. My fifty-thousand-dollar ticket.
The woman read it, then looked up at me over her horn rimmed glasses. “Can I see a photo ID? A driver’s license will do fine.”
“Don’t have one. Never drove.”
The woman narrowed her eyes and I could tell she was hung over by the way she cringed every so often and held her head. There were at least two babies behind me squalling at the top of their lungs.
“Do you mean to tell me you’re, what, in your twenties and never drove a car?”
“Have a driver.” The attorney’s words hung in my mind. I wasn’t elaborating on anything.
“What happened to your birth certificate?”
“Don’t know. My mother kept the important papers, but she died. Came to the funeral and her place had been cleaned out. No records, nothing. Everything was gone. Not even a picture to remember her by.”
The young woman who was breastfeeding had concluded her job and was now shouting at the children as though this would straighten them up. She shouted their names in a memorized litany and probably forgot who was whom from time to time. She tidied that up neatly by screaming, “Y’all.” It was a nice, serviceable name that included everyone.
The woman behind the counter put her hand to her head again and winced. “Don’t worry,” I said. “They’re right after me. As soon as I’m done, you can get her and the kids out of here.”
She read the judge’s affidavit again, then sighed and nodded before asking for additional information.
I rattled my name, parents name, place of birth and all the legal bullshit required to get the piece of paper I wanted. I watched as she squinted at her computer monitor, stopping every so often to rub her temples.
The baby wasn’t full yet, or maybe it was colicky, but its wail drowned out the scattered last-minute strategic conversations of the Hispanic family. The two-year-old must have decided to scream in sympathy because her wail joined in the clatter. I looked at the woman behind the counter with an expectant expression on my face as though she should already be completing my request.
“Damnit!” She muttered under her breath as the baby hit a new high note. “Sign here and that will be fifteen dollars,” she said, pushing a paper beneath the Plexiglass window at me. I signed quickly, and she tore the document from its printer, stamping it hard with an official seal then signed it. “Here you go.” She grabbed my fifteen dollars and slid me the certificate.
I left the building and inhaled the relative quiet of the busy street. I've never bought my way through life before and
felt not one ounce of guilt about doing it now.
Next was the DMV office. “I’d like to apply for a driver’s license,” I said to the girl behind the counter. She was young and looked like a librarian. I smiled and commented that her eyes matched her blouse. She asked for my previous license, and I gave her the same story, then handed her another paper from the judge that magically excused me from needing a permit. Money was king once again. She nodded and had me stand in front of a blue board. I flashed a bright smile as the camera flashed in my face. Ten minutes later, I was walking out with a paper license and the promise of a permanent one being sent to my house.
I went to the UPS store and overnighted the birth certificate. I drove past the courthouse in time to see the Hispanic family emerging from the office I’d so recently left. They were all crying; even the patriarch was wiping at his eyes. I pulled over to the curb and motioned to him to come to my opened window. I handed him three thousand-dollar bills and wished him buena suerte. He nodded and repeated gracias, gracias! He remembered me from inside the office. Our eyes met, and there was a kinship of the abandoned established.
The easy part was done. Now I had to come up with a plan for the hard part.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Hawk
I pulled into my driveway and peeked in on Diablo before heading to the house. He was restless, and I figured it had been a few days since he’d gotten a good run. I’d get something cold to drink and then take him out.
I walked in and threw my keys on the counter, heading for the refrigerator and grabbing a cold beer.
“You got one for me?” a low voice said behind me.
I whirled and slid a butcher knife from the block on the counter as I did so. It was a smooth, thoughtless movement born of too many fights that sprang from the shadows.
Before me sat Worthington LaViere, III. My father.
“How did you—?”
“Get in?” he finished for me. “Not difficult. I know my way around security systems. Find out you were here? I’ve been watching you as long as you’ve been watching us. That’s right, your brother first spotted you. So, I made a few calls, and sure enough, someone called me back about an hour ago.”
I should never have thought I could outwit him. It was no accident I was bright and resourceful myself.
“Sit down, Ford. I think it’s time we had a talk.”
I caught my breath and whirled again toward the refrigerator, trying to gather my thoughts. I grabbed another bottle and as I came close to him, tossed it. He caught it reflexively and twisted off the cap. Unwilling to let him take control of the conversation as though I was an errant child, I said, “What do you want?”
His eyebrows went up. “I might ask the same of you, son. You’ve chosen to move in as a neighbor without so much as letting us know you were alive. Your mother and I have been worried sick.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, I can tell.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I’ve been on my own now for years, and you haven’t reached out with so much as a finger to find me.”
“Where’s Bernie?”
“Dead. Screwed one too many asses.”
“Ford…” he growled the name, his jaw tight. “That man was a part of this family, and he gave up his life for you.”
I took a swig of my beer. “Yeah, you’re right. In fact, he was more of a father to me than my own.”
My father winced, though it seemed not entirely authentic. “So, that’s where we are, is it?”
“You could say so.”
“What’s with this Sansabri charade?” His voice was stern no matter how casual he was attempting to sound. A man of his profession should be better at passive interrogation.
“Think about it. It’ll come to you.” Nothing escaped him. He was toying with me.
“Well, just from observation I’d say that you went to a great deal of trouble to get next to the family without our knowing about it, although I’d say you wanted to get discovered. If you didn’t, you’d have stayed in Mexico. Second, I’m wondering why you felt the need for stealth. We’re your family, and you belong with us. If I’d known where you were, I’d have come looking for you long ago.”
“Oh, really?” My sarcasm was thick.
He sat forward in his chair. “Ford, it all happened in the space of an afternoon. You got out of the institution and were on the run. We knew they would come looking for you at home first. We had to be accounted for, so the only person who could take you was Bernie. In fact, he volunteered, and we trusted him implicitly. There was no other choice. I set up a quick route to get money to you, and we didn’t have the time to work out contingencies. I’m guessing when he died, you were without funds. All you had to do was get word to me.”
“Sure, right. You gave me a big calling card with instructions how to do that without getting picked up by the Federales, right?”
He sighed and leaned back again. “I guess you had a tough time of it, son. I’m sorry for that and yet in a way, you had to go through that. It wasn’t your fault. Your mother and I did a piss poor job of preparing you for life outside our neat, safe little circle.”
“Well, at least we can agree to that,” I stated. “You had enough presence of mind to lock me up, didn’t you?”
His eyes narrowed. “Hey. You made choices that took that out of my hands. That was the judge’s doing.”
“And you mean to tell me, given the LaViere name and fortune, you couldn’t buy my way out? Get off your moral high horse and be real, Father. You simply didn’t give a shit!”
“Not true! Damnit, no, I wasn’t the best parent. I admit that. That doesn’t mean that I didn’t care. It’s two different things. I loved and still love you, as does your mother. She asks me about you all the time. I’d already screwed up so bad and had no idea how to undo it. All I could think of was keeping everyone safe. I didn’t want you institutionalized again.”
“Keep the big crazy kid away from the sweet innocent babes, is that how it went down?” My voice held a deep bitterness. My phone dinged then, and I looked down to see a message from Liane: Breath and keep your dignity.
Her abilities were unbelievable.
“So what changed?” he was asking.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, something has changed. One day you’re spying on us from beneath tree branches and the next you’re getting your birth certificate and driver’s license — coming out, so to speak. What prompted this sudden change of heart?”
“You’ll meet her.”
He slapped his thigh then. “You’re my son, there’s no doubt about that. It’s always a woman that brings us to our knees.”
I let his remark pass. I wouldn’t play his game. We drank in silence, each contemplating which move would protect our queen.
“Will you come down to dinner? Come see your mother and the twins?”
“Not yet.”
Sadness crept into his eyes, but he wiped it away quickly. “I see. Want this kept quiet?”
“I do.”
“I won’t be able to keep it from her forever. She doesn’t deserve that, Ford.”
“I go by Hawk.”
“Hawk, then.” He smiled. “You always did want to be one, as I remember. So how long do I have to keep quiet?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“She must be damned special.”
I felt her mental hug. “You have no idea.”
“Alright, have it your way. I’ll keep this between us for now, but it won’t be forever. Your mother deserves to know you’re safe. It killed a part of her when you left. Believe that or not, it’s your choice. I’m the bastard in all this, son. Give her the love she remembers from you. You two used to be pretty close, as I recall.”
“You leaving now?” I suggested, mockery dripping from my voice.
He stood and walked out the door. There were no parting words.
My hand was shaking a bit when he left. I
hadn’t been prepared for that. I’d wanted it to be better rehearsed, set on my terms, not his. I would never underestimate him again. I tapped Liane’s number, and she answered on the first ring.
“I knew you were calling,” she said. “I already had the phone in my hand.”
I nodded. “I came home to find my father in my living room. He’d had people watching for me, and someone called him when I applied for a replacement birth certificate.”
“You didn’t see that coming?” she asked, and I was a bit embarrassed.
“No, I guess I was thinking more about you and my businesses than what traps would be sprung.”
“So, it’s over? You’ll go over and make up?” she asked, hope alive in her words.
“What do you think?” I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but it was still dripping about the room.
“I think you’re forgetting I’m on your side, Hawk.”
I scrubbed my face with my hands. “You’re right, I’m sorry. He made quite an impact on me. It’s been a long time.”
“So, you asked for some time, I take it?”
“Yes.”
“Want me to go with you, when the time comes?”
“Of course.”
“Will you come see me tonight? I’d like to make you dinner.”
“I’d love to. I’ve promised Diablo a run, then I’ll shower and be over. What can I bring?”
“Why don’t you stop by the bakery and bring a big, thick humble pie?”
It took me a second to catch on. At first, I thought it was a British thing. “Very funny.”
“I’ll bet you’re smiling.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
“Good, then skip the pie, and I’ll have dinner waiting.”
The line went silent. I loved the simplicity with which we communicated. She displayed no artifice, no agenda but was simple and direct. I loved that woman beyond belief.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Liane
I waited for Hawk wearing my favorite jeans and a soft, pearl-pink sweater. It was a good color for me, contrasting with my hair. I knew it made me look cuddly. I was right. He was no more in the door than he had his arms wrapped around me. I made comfort food for dinner. Everything I could do to lessen the blow of the day would be good for him.
