A Few Good Fish

by Amy Lane

  “I asked God to save Ellery’s life, and Ellery’s still breathing.”

  To his surprise Rabbi Watson sighed. “You know, sometimes that’s luck and science and not God.”

  Jackson shrugged. “Luck and science don’t do me any favors. I’m going to call this one a miracle and take the win.”

  The rabbi smiled then, wide and beautiful, as pure as a child. “That sounds reasonable.” He shook Jackson’s hand. “You’re a good man, Jackson Rivers. Don’t worry about picking up the burden we talked about today. God can keep it for as long as you trust him to have it.”

  And then he gave Jackson a hug, a long, warm, human hug, and took his leave. When he was gone, Jackson sank into the kitchen chair like a deflated balloon.

  “Jade?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I go watch cartoons or something?”

  “Yeah, baby. I’ll join you. I’d be beat too if I had to do what you just did. Do you want to call Ellery?”

  “No. That involves words.”

  “Gotcha. Go.”

  But as Jackson stared blankly at the television, his cat in his lap, he realized that he felt lighter. For the first time in over a week, he could breathe.

  Well, damn. That laying down your burdens thing really worked. Unbidden he felt a couple of tears fall, and he wiped them away.

  Healing apparently came with a price.

  But he was so ready to pony up. Anything to be able to sit in this house with Ellery again and not be Ellery’s burden to bear.

  HE FELL asleep on Jade, and she fell asleep on Mike as they watched This is Us on television. He woke up because Mike was sniffling, and for a moment Jackson wondered who died.

  “Mike… are you crying? Over the TV?”

  Mike had white hair and an ageless face. He shot Jackson an annoyed look through sky-blue Virginia farm-boy eyes. “You know, I didn’t think a girl’s soap opera would ever get to me—used to make fun of Jade for watching Grey’s Anatomy, you know? But… but this one does.” He looked down at Jade, soft and vulnerable in sleep against his side like she never was awake. “I think it’s because I’ve got my own family now. The kind that doesn’t look like it should go together but it does.”

  Jackson smiled a little. Jade and Mike had fought for years before they’d gotten together. Mike was too backwoods, Jade was too militant. He wondered which one of them had laid down their burden first.

  But that was a personal thing—it was an interaction that belonged only to the two of them.

  “That’s good,” he said, wiggling to sit up. He hurt. He needed to take his ibuprofen and go stretch out in his own bed. “I appreciated the stew tonight. Leave the dishes in the sink and—”

  “And the love of my life will cut off my balls in the morning,” Mike replied matter-of-factly. “No. I’ll clean up and go home. I’d stay here, but Albert’s more high-strung than ever. He’ll drive the neighbors batshit.”

  “Does he still hate the boys next door?” Jackson’s little halfway house was a place of redemption for Jackson’s boys, but a bunch of strange men to Albert’s sensitive German shepherd nose.

  “They started bribing him with hamburger. I think he’s taking a shine.”

  Jackson laughed quietly. “Tell him Billy Bob says hi.” Billy Bob and Albert had been bosom fuck-buddies and beloved antagonists when they’d been neighbors. Jackson missed Mike’s companionship. He didn’t always say the right thing, but his heart was almost always in the right place.

  “I’ll do that, kid.” Mike let out a sigh and looked at him over Jade’s sleeping form. “Kid, I’ll tell you something. You want to know why I watch things that make me cry? You really want to know?”

  Jackson swallowed. “Sure.”

  “Because sometimes, when I’m worried about something that’s really important, the TV makes me cry so I don’t have to cry over somebody or something that would laugh at me for crying.”

  Jackson took a moment to parse that, and Mike just rumbled straight on.

  “I’m watching this show because I keep asking myself how awful it would have been if you hadn’t come back from wherever the hell you went, and that makes me want to fucking cry. So I watch the show so I can get rid of all the fucking tears and be glad you made it back.”

  Jackson swallowed. “I’m… I don’t know what to do with that,” he admitted. “I was terrified when I thought people might come hurt you and Jade.”

  “Yeah. I know it. But me and Jade can take care of ourselves. Every time you go out on one of these adventures, you come back looking worse.”

  Jackson let out a sigh. “I’m trying to fix myself,” he admitted. “I….” He looked around Ellery’s house. “I’d really like to not break Ellery in the process.”

  Mike nodded. “Good. That’s a place to start. Get some sleep, kid—you look like shit.”

  “Thanks for dinner and coming over tonight.”

  Mike waved him off. “Your boyfriend has the biggest fucking TV of anybody I know. It’s like getting your pain in stereo. Glorious way to watch this fuckin’ show.”

  Jackson chuckled and stumbled off to bed, making sure to hook the phone to the charger before he fell asleep.

  HE FELT the dream coming, but he was too tired to wake up and too raw to wait it out. Real and visceral, he sat in a tiny black box, watching his family move farther and farther away from him through the walls, calling his name while they searched.

  And the box he was in just got smaller and smaller and smaller, and nobody could hear him scream.

  “Jackson? Honey? Wake up! You’re okay!”

  Jade’s hand on his shoulder grounded him, and he fought to get his breathing under control.

  “Yeah,” he gasped. “Okay. I’m fine.” Was Ellery having bad dreams? Ellery had been in this one, freaking the fuck out because he couldn’t see Jackson. Jackson reached for the phone before he even knew who he was calling.

  “Calling him?” Jade asked softly.

  “Promised,” Jackson mumbled. “Stay here a minute.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  He felt the other side of the bed depress, but he kept his back turned. He didn’t want to look over there and see someone who wasn’t Ellery.

  You up? he texted.

  His phone rang. “Bad?” Ellery sounded loopy, and Jackson wondered if he’d just turned his phone volume up to maximum so he’d hear the ping.

  “Not great. You sicced the rabbi on me.”

  “And yet you’re still talking to me.”

  Jackson grunted. “You made me promise.”

  “You didn’t call earlier—mad?”

  Oh. No. “No fucking words left,” Jackson muttered. “I don’t know what to tell you. He came, he talked, I was wiped out.”

  “I’m sorry.” Ellery didn’t say that usually. Not when he was being a Machiavellian asshole. “Not that I did it. Just that it was hard.”

  Here, in the dark of the night, Jade settling in under the covers at his back, Jackson felt like he should tell the truth. “I want to be less of a pain in the ass for you.”

  And Ellery’s filthy chuckle—of all things—reassured him. “God willing, you’ll always be a pain in my ass.”

  Jackson’s laugh was raw and soft—but it was still a laugh. “I’ll do my best—since you like it and all. Pervert.”

  “There’s my grown-up middle-schooler. What’re you doing tomorrow?”

  “Laptops and talking to bosses.”

  “Sounds like fun. Don’t overdo it—you’re still recovering.”

  Jackson let out a soft groan. “You are telling me. God, when did this shit get so hard? I came home and slept and then woke up and talked to the rabbi and slept and then got up and went to bed and slept some more. I’m about to become the most boring person in history, I swear.”

  “You ever think this is the sleep you should have gotten over the last two months but you couldn’t?” Ellery asked soberly. “Take advantage of it. You’ll be pushing to be back at
full speed soon enough.”

  Jackson grunted. “Gotta admit—I feel like the gods owe us a little. I want a week when we both feel great and we can go on a real vacation and fuck like lemmings.”

  “That’s it,” Jade muttered. “You don’t need me here. I’m going to my own bed.”

  Jackson turned gingerly. “Thanks, sweetheart. I appreciate it.”

  Jade stood, looking absurdly old-fashioned in a winter-weight white flannel gown, glowing like the moon against her skin. “Tell him I’ll stay here until he gets back. They really have gotten worse, Jackson. It’s going to take a lot more talks with the rabbi and a lot more vacations to fix it.”

  She left, and Billy Bob jumped back onto the pillow she’d vacated.

  “Did you hear that?” Jackson asked soberly.

  “I did. That’s okay. You let the rabbi in, you talked to him—lots of good for one day, you think?”

  “Yeah, sure. Any of the nurses there hot?”

  “Nice change of subject, and no. You met them all when you were here. They have not substituted any young hot nurses of either gender just because you’ve flown the coop.”

  “That’s a disappointment. I was hoping to live vicariously through you.”

  Ellery laughed softly, and they bantered a little bit more. No big revelations, nothing heavy. But Jackson had called and Ellery had been there, and this time when Jackson fell asleep, he was pretty sure he’d stay that way until his bladder woke him up in the morning.

  THE NEXT morning, standing in the tasteful, cream-painted, blond-paneled offices of Pfeist, Harrelson, Langdon, and Cooper, Jackson actually had a moment when he wondered if he’d woken up at all.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, blinking hard. “You’re going to need to repeat that.”

  Carlyle Langdon, Ellery’s immediate superior, smiled genially. He was usually a good guy—tall, elegant, silver-haired, blue-eyed. He looked and acted the part of the seasoned professional, good at glad-handing, so competent at his job he made it look effortless.

  Right now he was sweating, tiny glistening drops of perspiration on his high forehead that rode his tanned, moisturized perfect skin like little marble tiles.

  “I was just saying that while I know you and Mr. Cramer are, uh, close, I hope there’s no hard feelings here. Mr. Cramer’s activities in pursuit of the real criminal in the Janie Isaacson case made our government very uncomfortable, and he’s become a liability. I can’t authorize another laptop for him—”

  “I bought him a laptop. I just need the pass codes.” Jackson knew what Langdon was saying—had even anticipated it. But hearing it out loud was a slap in the face.

  Ellery was so very, very proud of his job.

  “I can’t authorize those either.” Langdon swallowed uncomfortably. “It’s… it’s my understanding that there’s a majority—the other three partners will be asking Mr. Cramer to resign.”

  “Resign.”

  “With two years’ salary, full benefits package, and glowing letters of reference, of course.”

  “Resign.”

  “As soon as he’s back after a fully paid medical leave.”

  “Hunh.”

  “We’ve taken on all the rest of his cases. Ms. Isaacson’s case has been dropped, and she’s been hired back by the family, if that’s any consolation.”

  It wasn’t, really. “He’s given his heart and soul to this firm,” Jackson said, shaking. So had Jackson, for that matter. Jackson had gotten this job right after he’d gotten his PI’s license. Carlyle Langdon and Murray Pfeist had been the first people to believe in him after the force turned its back.

  But Jackson would fucking cut them all for doing this to Ellery.

  “I’ve gone on record with my objections,” Langdon said, sinking dispiritedly into his office chair. “But you’ve done some very fine work here, Jackson. There’s no reason for you to leave the firm. You and Ms. Cameron are valued employees, and Mr. Cramer will land on his feet.”

  Jackson had to swallow hard against the ball of rage in his chest. “So you’re firing Ellery, but you want me to stay.”

  Langdon smiled weakly, like he expected Jackson to explode or kick something or act violently. “We were hoping so, yes. I know you’re still recovering from a concussion—”

  Jackson lifted his shirt, viciously grateful that his stitches hadn’t been removed yet. “And a stabbing, sir. Ellery’s mother told you he was in the hospital. Did she tell you why?”

  “A shooting—”

  “The person we were investigating for the vehicular murder that was pinned on Janie Isaacson shot him. I was there. I shot him back. The pressure—the people Ellery has offended—are defending the guy who shot Ellery, and that guy is also, coincidentally, the scumbag who trained the scumbag that tried to kill us both.”

  Carlyle Langdon closed his eyes. “Jackson—you’ve got almost seven years here—”

  “And this job was my life. I know—”

  “Just think about it,” Langdon said quietly, resting his head on his hands. He looked defeated, and Jackson couldn’t blame him.

  Jackson knew how he felt. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, “I’ve got some things to do in my office.”

  Langdon nodded and gestured weakly. “Please. Just—”

  “Thinking,” Jackson said sweetly. Because this wasn’t the man he wanted to offend.

  JADE LOOKED up from her desk as he walked down the hall. “So?” she asked tentatively.

  “Do you have a Sharpie?”

  “What color?”

  “Black, but maybe some neon ones too, for effect.”

  Her eyebrows went up. “Because….”

  “I’ll show you in our office.”

  He kept walking, and she caught up to him in the hallway, a bouquet of permanent markers in her hand.

  “Jackson, what are you going to—” He closed the door and started to take off his pants. “Do? We don’t do that anymore, right?”

  “No, we’re not doing that anymore,” he muttered, bending over his desk. “I want you to write, ‘I quit, you cowardly fuckwads’ across my ass and take a picture of it.”

  She paused for a moment, and he looked over his shoulder to see her assessing his backside skeptically.

  “You can’t talk me out of it,” he told her. “They’re firing Ellery—”

  “I figured,” she said, not sounding surprised or even like she was going to talk him out of it. “I just don’t think it will fit across your scrawny ass. I mean, you might get ‘I’ on one cheek and ‘quit’ on the other, but you need more room for the whole message. Pull up your pants and wait here.”

  He stood and watched her go before buttoning his jeans. He took the moment she was gone to grab a file carton and start throwing his few possessions into the box. Unhappily, he looked at Ellery’s side of the room and fought against the tightness in his throat.

  Ellery’s desk chair, his desk—technically those all belonged to the firm. But he had law books—well thumbed—and awards and certificates on the wall. Jackson started there instead, because being kind to Ellery’s things kept him from trashing the place.

  His hands were still shaking with rage.

  He’d gotten most of the plaques from the walls before Jade walked in with Crystal behind her.

  “Good idea,” Crystal said. “Let’s get his stuff first so you can carry the boxes on your way out. I’ll call AJ.”

  “Uh—”

  But Crystal was already helping Jackson pack. Between the three of them, it took about fifteen minutes, and by the time they were done, there was a knock on the door.

  “Come in, AJ,” Crystal said, hushed excitement in her voice. “They’re about to take off their clothes.”

  Jackson stared at her. “We are not shooting porn in Ellery’s office.”

  “As. If.” Jade rolled her eyes. “But just like I told you, right?” she asked Crystal. “Here’s the Sharpies. AJ, embellish. If my ass is going on film, it had better be tigh
t, hot, and flashy.”

  Jackson looked at her. “You are not—”

  “Yes I am.”

  “You love this job.”

  She paused with a look of tenderness in her eyes. “I do. But I can do it somewhere else. Besides—you know Ellery is going to start his own firm, and I want to be on the ground floor of that shit. Imagine what I can do in an office with a little bit of power.”

  Jackson tried to talk her out of it. There was no guarantee Ellery would start his own firm. There was no guarantee she could get another job. God, there was no guarantee Jackson could get his own job.

  But in the end it boiled down to the two of them, bent over Ellery’s desk while AJ and Crystal decorated their backsides and commented on how good their body wash smelled. After the tickle of the Sharpies, Crystal backed up. “Okay, guys—turn your heads so we know who ‘we’ is. That’s it—there, what do you think?”

  Jackson pulled up his pants and did his belt while Jade wrestled with her pantyhose. Then they both looked at the picture on Crystal’s phone.

  “Not bad,” he assessed. “The gold and silver foil looks really good on Jade’s skin. Especially the lightning bolts around ‘fuckwads.’”

  “And your ass isn’t that furry,” Jade said, “so the neon really pops. Well done, guys.” She smiled at AJ and Crystal. “I like it. In fact, I like it so much, I think we should make copies. What do you think, Jackson?”

  He stared back. “What are we going to do with copies?”

  “Well, Mike will want one for sure—and I think you and Ellery will want one framed for the new office. Don’t worry—I’ll take care of it. Kaden gets a framed one too. Birthdays, Christmases, it’s the gift that keeps on giving.”

  “Righteous,” AJ said proudly. “I can have them on all the walls of the office before you guys hit the street with your stuff.”

  Jackson had to smile. “Crystal, you keep your nose clean, okay? I mean, I sort of need you here.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Just until Ellery can afford me,” she said, sounding certain.

  Jackson wondered how he was going to tell Ellery that people seemed to expect them to start a business, but he couldn’t squash on his friends with his worry after what they’d just helped him do.