by Martha Carr
I miss Richmond, she thought. It’s an odd thing to live without any kind of labels that you get to keep, maybe even defend.
She pushed more popcorn into her mouth, letting go of the thought. It would only make her days longer. Someday this assignment would end and she would be onto another place, new people. Perhaps that one would not be quite so lonely.
Chapter Eight
Wallis looked in the rear view mirror. Ned preferred sitting in the backseat most of the time where he could act like he didn’t hear his mother talking to him. Sometimes Wallis made him sit up front with her but it didn’t really change anything.
“You have your lunch money?” she asked, glancing back and forth between the traffic and the top of her son’s head. He was buried in a book.
“Yeah,” he grunted.
“You get all of your homework done?” She already knew the answer. He always finished his homework but she was about out of topics.
Ned was in the seventh grade and didn’t like talking to adults as a part of being twelve but Wallis was convinced that being shot at had made it worse. She blamed herself.
“I like your new car,” he said, his head still down. Wallis felt her heart jump a little. Ned was picking a topic and actually talking to her.
“Really? Thanks. I appreciate all of the research you did.”
Her old car, a Jaguar had been practically demolished by the same murderous deputy sheriff and the car chase had almost cost Wallis her life. Wallis had loved the car because she felt it showed a certain amount of independence.
Lately, though she wanted a little more stability. It crept into all of her decisions lately. The red Subaru Forester made her feel like it would be a little harder to run her off the road the next time. She suspected Ned felt the same way. She knew it when he pointed out that it was voted the best small SUV in snow.
Richmond rarely got snow and when the city did, it only lasted for an afternoon.
“Sure, no problem,” he said, and looked up for a moment, making eye contact with her before looking down at his book again.
“I’ve been thinking of moving back into my room. Back upstairs,” said Ned.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, it’s my space. You okay with that?”
“Sure, sure. Any reason you wanted to do it now?”
“No, I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
That was it. He didn’t say another word and Wallis couldn’t think of a way to keep the talk going. Her throat ached and she felt the same lingering sense of loneliness that draped itself over her more and more lately. It didn’t matter if people were in the room or not.
It was so unlike her. She was used to life being black and white, right or wrong. You dealt with something and moved on to the next thing. That trait was most like her mother, even like Norman and she had always taken comfort in it.
Nothing was going to drag into the corners of her mind for very long and take up residence. Then a crazy man pointed a gun at her son and her mother fired back and everything changed.
Wallis learned how to second-guess herself and wondered if she had failed at the one thing that it turned out mattered to her most, Ned and his happiness.
It seemed like they had both taken a right turn just not in the same direction and she wasn’t going to be able to fix it or to just leave it alone. Instead she tortured herself with small plots to draw him out that she never tried or attempts at small talk that were heavy with her desire to hear that he was okay in there.
None of it worked to her satisfaction and her restlessness was only growing.
“Knowledge isn’t power,” she said, risking telling the truth a little. She never knew if it was better to talk to him like he was a small adult or plaster over everything as if she could make it all right. Usually Wallis ended up feeling like she was wrong, no matter which way she went. There was a certain amount of freedom though in that too.
Easier to just do something when you’re convinced that failure is inevitable either way.
“Whoa,” she gasped, hitting the brakes.
She had almost slid through the yellow light at the busy intersection at Pemberton and Three Chopt. A car had jumped the green light and sped through just in front of her bumper. Her heart was pounding and she had to take in a couple of deep breaths to calm down. Ned’s new school, Harrison Middle School was just up the steep hill, right next door to his old elementary school, which sat just above it.
“What,” said Ned, raising his head. He looked concerned and immediately, Wallis regretted saying anything.
“Nothing,” said Wallis, “talking out loud.”
“Knowledge isn’t power,” he repeated, “I heard you. Maybe not by itself.” He locked eyes with her as his hair fell across his forehead and he shoved it back across his head. A large piece stuck up from the top of his head, giving him a comical look above such a serious expression. Wallis noticed how long his hair was getting and wondered if she could change the subject to getting a haircut.
“Your hair’s getting a little long,” she said, glancing away from the rear view mirror. It was hard to hold his steady gaze and talk about nothing.
“Yeah, whatever,” he said, and went back to his book.
Even my mother is better at this than I am these days, she thought, wincing.
“You’re right,” she said, trying to get him to look up again. “It takes more than knowing something. It’s just that I’m not sure what that would be and I don’t want to be wrong.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he said again, not looking up at all.
“I’m sorry, Ned,” she said, catching herself tearing up and knowing right away that had been the wrong call.
“For what?” Ned asked, clearly angry. “Why do you always do this?” he asked, as she pulled into the large, open parking lot of the middle school. Ned flung open the door to the car. “Why do you always make me have to care about all of your worries? I’m just a kid, you know. And then you do nothing about any of it. Tell your Bunko friends. Don’t you have one of those parties tonight? Tell them. Leave me out of it,” he spit out as he slid out of the car and slammed the door. He marched off toward the building without looking back.
Wallis felt the familiar ache again and wanted to go after him and explain everything but knew it wasn’t right. He was just a kid and she had no idea why she would tell him that there was no solution.
She watched him until the car behind her gave a short honk and Ned turned the corner where she couldn’t see him anymore.
She turned up the radio and tried to listen to ‘All Things Considered’ on the radio and let go of the thoughts that just kept making an endless loop in her head. The drive to the office was uneventful and as she pulled into her parking lot she looked over at the new sign next door advertising an accountant.
“I miss you, Madame Bella,” she said, tearing up again. “I don’t even know the name you go by anymore.” Wallis shook her head and gathered up her things. “Damn, I have got to cut this out. Enough already. I barely knew the woman.”
“You talking to yourself again?” asked Laurel. It was Wallis’ assistant who had seen her through every crisis and still seemed rock steady. She was standing in the doorway of the office, holding Wallis’ favorite mug. The one that said, ‘You win some, you lose some, but you get paid for all of them.’
“Got your coffee,” said Laurel. “I saw you pull up. What are you thinking, or is that a thorny question?”
“More like a weepy, pathetic question,” said Wallis. “I got into an argument with Ned that I started for no good reason that went nowhere.”
“He’s twelve. It goes with the territory. Of these things I know well.” Laurel was raising two children of her own. “The only cure is time,” she said, taking Wallis’ briefcase from her and handing her the mug. “Your job is to keep him alive long enough to get older so he wises up. And try and have a little fun yourself in the meantime.”
“Then I’m doing a poor job on bo
th counts,” she said.
“Wallis Jones, that self-pity is only going to fly but so much. You are not all that unique, my dear.”
“Really feeling the job security, aren’t you, Laurel,” said Wallis, already feeling better. “Thank goodness for you.”
“Was that all that got you riled up this morning? That’s all it took?” asked Laurel. “Morning, Patty,” she said, to the other paralegal. Patty was an older, heavyset woman who spent every break smoking out in the parking lot and as a result the waiting area always had a lingering odor of Pall Mall’s. She was William Bremmer’s assistant, the third partner in the law firm. Wallis and Norman made up the other two partners. William and Norman handled small businesses while Wallis focused on family law, where all of the real drama unfolded.
Wallis waited till they got up the stairs to her office.
“There was a Watcher outside of my house today. My mother went out and chased them off.”
“She take a shot at them?” asked Laurel, raising an eyebrow. Wallis smiled despite how she felt.
“I made her promise not to.”
“You’re using AARP as your bodyguard?” asked Laurel.
“I said the same thing to Norman,” said Wallis, smiling again. “My mother seems indestructible and she is packing. I wish I was more like her right at the moment.”
“I think you are. You’ve just lost sight of it.”
Wallis let out a deep sigh despite herself. “You know what it is? I’ve lost this idea that everything will work out okay in the end. It’s like I’m waiting for the next punch and I’d prefer it took me out instead of Ned or Norman. But it’s not working.”
“I can imagine it’s not.”
“I told Harriet and Norman that we have to start working together. Yeah, that’s right. The three of us. And you know, I think Harriet was actually proud of me.”
“Your mother is proud of you more often than you give her credit.”
“Yes, but for what?”
“You’re determined to stay stuck in this rut today. I’m gonna just leave you there, if you keep it up and go find something more productive to do.”
“Okay, okay. It’s just, that short burst of bravado has already passed. Being around Ned used to fill me with courage or at least joy or peace or something. Now, I can pretty much guarantee that it will leave me feeling unsure of myself, the world and anything else you can name.”
“Welcome to teen angst. It’s their job to make you think it’s you and they’re damn clever at it.”
“So, what do you do to not wish away the time?” asked Wallis.
“You ask yourself what am I supposed to be doing, and you go do that. You stop making everything so complicated.”
“You ever think about what happened, Laurel?”
“Of course I do. There were people chasing us with baseball bats and guns. It was like something out of the movies. But I don’t try to make sense of any of it. It doesn’t make sense. All of it is someone else’s game.”
“How do I get out of the game?”
“Just don’t play,” said Laurel.
“I don’t pay you enough.”
Laurel took on a familiar determined look. “Don’t insult me. I don’t take that well. I am well compensated and the two of us are friends. I shouldn’t have to remind you of that as often as I do. I know you’re trying to ease your own pain but try and stay with it. It won’t kill you and you just might learn something.”
She turned and left Wallis’ office without another word. It was the usual way she ended conversations. She never felt the need to hang in with some tidy chitchat. It was a quality Wallis treasured.
“You’re like a compass,” she shouted after Laurel.
“Please,” she heard back, noting the sound of mild annoyance.
The day seemed to pass slowly. A former client stopped by to start divorce proceedings with his third wife. Every new wife looked like a slightly younger version of the one before and they all turned out the same way. She had told Norman that morning that she should have an easy day, explaining another repeat was stopping by.
He suggested she start her own frequent flyer card.
“It would cut too far into my profits,” Wallis answered, trying to zip up her dress.
“Come on,” Norman said, pulling her into a tight embrace and kissing her neck. “All you have to do is pull out your notes from the previous years and repeat.”
“Very funny,” she had said, before she pulled away and turned around. “Could you zip me up? What?” she asked. “Ned’s in the next room.”
Norman had zipped her up without another word. That wasn’t helping her mood either.
The client had stopped by with evidence from a private investigator that showed his wife was cheating on him. He looked genuinely hurt as he laid out the pictures.
“I want to make sure she gets nothing,” he spit out.
“What about your children with her?” Wallis knew he had finally given in and started a family with wife number three. He was getting older and apparently had thought it was time to put down some real roots. Usually he was the one trying not to get caught at something.
“The bare minimum,” he choked out. Wallis knew he didn’t mean it. He wasn’t an unfair man even if he was a little blind to his own behavior. It was pointless to go over a strategy with him yet. She tried to put her hand over his to offer a little comfort.
“It gets easier,” she said, hoping that was true.
The man had abruptly pulled his hand back and slid back in the soft leather chair that faced Wallis’ desk.
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” he said. He looked like he had tasted something sour. “I’m already moving on.”
Wallis felt a little tired as she pulled back her hand. “You are not legally separated yet. Be careful or you could end up paying more than you hoped,” she said, trying not to sound as exasperated as she felt. She gave him a half-hearted smile and sent him off to Laurel to make another appointment.
She stopped in Norman’s office after she heard the door close downstairs but he was nowhere to be found.
“Norman around?” she asked Patsy.
“Went on an errand, is what he said,” said Patsy. “You want me to call him?”
“No, I’ll call him.” She suddenly wanted a little fresh air even if the wind was biting and she stepped out the back door into the large parking lot that spread out over several acres until it ran into a strip mall with the usual Chinese restaurant, a dry cleaners and a drug store anchored by a Hallmark card store and a few other shops Wallis had stopped noticing a long time ago. A bank sat awkwardly in the middle making it hard for cars to maneuver through the parking lot.
Norman picked up on the first ring.
“Hey, how’s your day going?” she asked.
“Not bad. None of my clients are in jail or being indicted. Slow day,” he said with a chuckle. “How was your repeat?”
“Exactly as you thought he would be except this time the missus played the same game on him. He wants to make sure she gets nothing and he already has another one lined up. It’s amazing how he misses the irony.”
“You could even tell him and he’d look at you like you were speaking a different language.”
“Hey,” said Wallis, softening her voice, “sorry about this morning.”
“What about it?” asked Norman.
“About turning you down. It wasn’t fair.”
“It’s one morning in years’ worth of mornings. You get a pass every so often, Wallis. It’s okay.”
“I’m having trouble letting myself off the hook for anything.”
“I’ve noticed. It’s not normally a Jones trait. You don’t usually try to carry the weight of the world, you know. You don’t even cook.”
“Hardy, har. You knew that going into this arrangement. My contributions are more of the world domination variety.”
Norman laughed and Wallis felt her body relax.
“See? There
you go,” said Norman. “Making jokes about the end of life as we knew it. That’s my girl. Look, Wallis, I’ve said it to you before. I had years to get over being born into some conspiracy that had me by the short hairs before I even knew it existed and I spent plenty of time arguing with my father about how it was all wrong. Remember, I’m the one they originally tagged as the Keeper.”
“Fortunately, you had me to keep you from that post.”
“Seriously. I have not thanked you enough. That will take years. Can’t have the Keeper being married to Management’s princess, even if she doesn’t know she’s really a kind of old world blue blood.”
“You know, I made that big statement about the three of us working together but I still have no idea what that really means. I’m all talk.”
“You’re not supposed to come up with the plan all on your own, you know. It’s amazing how much of this you’re willing to take on. That’s how Ned gets you. Hell, that’s how Harriet gets you. I’d do it too but I’m the bigger person.”
“Thank goodness you’re such a decent person or I’d be lost,” she said, meaning it as more than just a joke. “You have any big ideas?”
“As a matter of fact, I’m working on that,” said Norman. “Come home and I’ll fill you in. Get Chinese from across the way, okay?”
Norman hung up and knocked on the parish door. It wasn’t long before Father Donald was pulling open the old wooden door to St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church.
“Come on in,” he said. “He’s already here.”
Chapter Nine
“He was easy to find?”
“Not really. Esther helped me find him,” said the Father, referring to the bookstore owner who was one of the last of the original twenty and kept watch over Norman and especially his brother, Tom, the current Keeper. The bookstore had to be rebuilt after Oscar Newman blew it up coming closer to killing Esther Ackerman and Tom and finally doing away with the Keeper than all of Management had ever been able to do. He had only been seeking a little petty revenge and in the end had failed.
