Baby Please Don't Go: A Novel (25 page)

“Just so you know, I got that snake for you and no one else. I’m sorry he gets to see it even for a little while.”

He waved her explanation away and then opened the kit, removed the vial, and tapped a little mound of power onto the nightstand surface. “All will go according to plan. We just have to be patient.”

“I know,” she said. “But three kids and Lock? I have to say the serenity prayer all day long.”

37

By the time Augie was almost four months old, Natalie had grown weary of all the demands the infant constantly made on her. Although she was good at hiding her irritation, Locked noticed but chose to say nothing.

A few times when he was sick, Augie cried off and on all night long. Natalie never once got out of bed to comfort him—it was always Lock. And Augie was an aggressive crawler—he started crawling months earlier than most babies do—and had to be watched all the time when he wasn’t in his crib or his playpen.

Even though breast-feeding was supposed to reduce the risk of a child having allergies, Augie had severe reactions to the eggs, soy, peanuts, and cow’s milk—ingredients often found in the recipes for homemade baby food that Lock discovered online.

“I don’t know what to feed that brat,” Natalie once said in the infant’s presence.

“Damn it, Natalie,” Lock said. “Watch what you say. You know he can sense your emotions.”

Natalie laughed. “Where’d you read that? Some touchy-feely stay-at-home-dad website or something?”

Lock bristled. “And don’t call him a brat,” he said. “He’s pure love in a diaper. And I don’t know of a kid who’s less whiney than Augie.”

Natalie laughed again and sulked out of the room in her bare feet.

Sure, walk away
, Lock thought.
That’s what you do, isn’t it? It’s your nature.

Late that evening, after Lock did the putting-the-baby-to-bed routine, he got into bed and tried to kiss Natalie goodnight. She was still pissed and rolled away from him.

“I just want to say goodnight,” he told her. “We agreed to never go to bed angry at each other.”

“That would be easier to do if you weren’t acting like a dick all the time.”

He tried to kiss her again.

She turned her back to him. “Too bad,” she said. “That’s what you get for always siding with Augie and talking to me like I’m twelve years old.”

Natalie fell into silence while Lock lay there in the dark with his eyes open, wondering about the woman next to him. She was asleep in minutes and didn’t say a word to him when she arose the next morning and left for an early yoga class.

When she returned to the condo—much later than Lock had expected (though he said nothing to her about it)—she was ready to pick up the bad vibes where she had left them the night before.

“I’m not going to fight with you, Natalie,” Lock said. “I want to love you, not battle you.”

Natalie said nothing and went into the bedroom to change out of her yoga clothes.

“I want to have dinner tonight at La Tierra,” she said, returning from the bedroom and wearing her cut-offs and a t-shirt. “Find a sitter, will you?”

“La Tierra and a sitter? Honey, that’ll be north of a hundred and fifty bucks.”

“I thought you were going to get a better job than that crappy auto parts place and that stupid shirt they make you wear.”

Lock wanted to fire back that they both had jobs where wearing nametags was mandatory, but he held his tongue. “I’m working on it, Natalie, I don’t like the job either. But as of now, my options are narrow.”

“I know you’re trying,” she said, “but we hardly get a chance to go out, and when we do, it’s on a small allowance we give ourselves or because I was able to shake a few extra bucks out of Witt. Movies and a cheap dinner at the Mexican place, or a picnic at Valley Forge with the kids. We don’t have a night life anymore. Do you think I don’t remember my sixty-dollar manicures and my hundred-and-twenty-five-dollar yoga lessons? Let’s work harder at getting more money. I make shit at the diner. I need a vacation.”

Lock wondered if he was devolving into the same kind of lousy provider his father had been. But something would turn up. He wasn’t going to stay broke indefinitely. After all, he had a son to take care of. It was true he was struggling now, but that condition didn’t trouble him nearly as much as it did Natalie.

Lock lifted Augie out of his playpen and set him on the floor. He let the infant reach up to grip his thumbs, so that Augie could pull himself up into something like a standing position. Without much prompting, Augie did so and grinned and opened his eyes wide, thrilled at his accomplishment. Lock turned to see Natalie’s reaction, but she was staring out the window.

“Check this out, Natalie,” he said. She glanced over, saw her baby standing, and shrugged.

“Great,” she said. “Terrific. Now he can pull everything off the coffee table. What’ll you teach him next? How to fire a gun?”

While Lock continued to play with Augie, Natalie said that she was prepared to go to Witt and ask him for even more money than he was already shelling out. Lock told her not to do it, but she laughed.

“I’m not staying destitute for the rest of my life,” she said, examining her unpolished toe nails. “Witt’s got more than he can ever spend. He’ll give me more.”

The next night, just after nine, Natalie, wearing her waitress’s uniform, sat back up in the passenger seat of Freel’s car and flipped open the mirror built into the sun visor. She inspected her makeup and reapplied her lipstick.

She ran her fingers through her tousled hair and thought about the conversation she had had with Freel earlier. She didn’t know if she could fully trust him, but she did believe his affection for her—as base and superficial as it was—was sincere. She knew she could do worse than Jerome Freel.

“I’m still not clear about how we can get Lock to leave me,” Natalie said to Freel. “He’s too attached to his ridiculous idea of having a family. I could host a gangbang every night, and he’d stand by me. He’d be doing it for Augie. Getting rid of him won’t be so easy. Definitely not as easy to manipulate as when we let him think he was hatching the plan to crash the car and frame Witt.”

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before,” said Freel, re-buckling his seatbelt. He rested his hands on the steering wheel and looked out the windshield at the trees illuminated by the street lamps on the other side of the deserted parking lot. “It’s simple. We just tell Lock that Augie is my son, that we took a paternity test. That’ll frost his balls. If he demands to see the results, you can show him. I have the lab’s letterhead, so it will be easy to scan it and make up a fake test result. I’m pretty good at Photoshop.”

“Don’t you think there will be a little problem with that?” she said. “Just telling Lock the baby’s yours? Just by showing him a piece of paper?”

“You mean his reaction?”

“Yes,” Natalie said. “He’s driven when it comes to Augie. He’ll go crazy. He’s been acting the role of father ever since Augie was born. Actually, even before that. Lock’s fanatical about him. All the baby food has to be organic.”

“No,” Freel said, “nothing to worry about. Look at it from Lock’s perspective. He’s already questioning whether or not Augie is mine. It panics him just thinking about it. When the official-looking lab report hits him out of the blue, he’ll be so upset he’ll totally believe it. I guarantee it. He’s basically a drunk, isn’t he? What’s he going to do besides break down and start drinking?”

“That’s not true, he’s a good man,” she said. “He was good at his job at CPS. And he’s good at being a father. I’ve just outgrown him.” Natalie took Freel’s hand. She sat there, fingers entwined with his. She said nothing. A moment passed and Freel pulled his hand back.

“That’ll practically kill him,” Freel said, “the poor bastard.” He laughed.

“It’s not funny,” she said. “You’re not the one who’s going to tell him. You’re not the one going to see his face.”

“All you’d need to do is give him the news and then avoid him until he’s out of the condo.”

“It’s that I don’t love him. I never did.”

“I thought you said you did.”

“I might have. Once. Yes, I did. For a few days, at least. I admit I was pretty confused when I got out of prison. I must have been out of mind to think it could work with Lock.”

“He’s a little blue-collar for you.”

“Even if he falls for the story that he’s not the father, doesn’t he have any legal standing?” Natalie asked. “He’s been like the baby’s father since Lamaze classes. That must count for something.”

“He could try to make a case for being the baby’s psychological father—they call it the
de facto
parent—but he won’t get far with that. The kid would have to feel as if Lock is his actual parent. If Augie were seven or eight years old, it might be a different story. A court-ordered custody evaluator might interview him and make a determination that the kid thinks of Lock as his father. But as it is, your kid’s too young for that legal concept to come into play. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“He’s basically a nice guy,” she said. “I kind of hate doing this to him.”

“I know it will bother you, Nat...” Freel said, smirking, “…for about sixty seconds. Don’t forget, baby, I know you.”

Freel started the Lamborghini and pulled out of the parking lot. He headed back to Natalie’s diner, where he’d drive around to the rear and drop her off at her car in the employees-only parking area.

“Tell him not to feel bad,” Freel said. “Tell him it’s for his own good.”

“How’s it for his own good?”

“It would never work out with you, and he needs to know that and he needs to move on. That’s why it’s for his own good.”

“I’m sure he won’t see it that way.”

“Come on,” Freel said. “I want you to move in with me, in my house. God knows it’s big enough. It’ll be great. I’m a few months behind on the mortgage, but I’m stalling the lender, and once we get the settlement money—”

“We?” Natalie raised her eyebrows.

“Well, once you get the settlement money and I get my fee, we’ll be in good shape. We have the pool and all I need to do is throw a few thou into the greenhouse to renovate it and you’ll have a perfect spot for your orchids. I know you miss them since you’ve been cramped in that condo. We’ll get a nanny for the baby and we’ll take trips all over the place. It’ll be terrific.”

Freel slowed with the traffic on Route 1 and put on his right turn signal.

“A nanny?” asked Natalie. “That would great. That would be unbelievable.”

“I told you Nat, I’m going to take care of you in high style, just like you deserve. Once we get the money.”

“What about all your little sluts, Jerome?”

“If by that, you mean the paralegal—that happened exactly once. We were both drunk as shit, by the way. Obviously it was meaningless, or I wouldn’t have told you about her.”

“Wow. You wouldn’t have lied. That’s some reassurance. And what about my job?”

“Don’t be coy,” Freel said. “You know full well that I’m going to give you an allowance that you’ll be thrilled with. But you have to move in first.”

“You’re broke as hell.”

“I am, kind of, for now,” he said. “But I have a big divorce case settling any day.” He grinned. “And I’ve got another client—a personal injury case—where the insurance company is ready to settle. My forty percent will bring me almost as much as the fee for your deal with Witt. I’m on the verge of having a lot of working capital.”

“But by then, I’ll have millions myself, so why would I need you?” she asked. She smiled, squeezing his hand.

“For the good lovin’,” he said, leering. “You can’t get that just anywhere. Lock’s not going to get violent, is he? Does he have a gun?”

“I doubt it,” she said. “He’s never mentioned one.”

“I’m not going to worry about him,” said Freel. “He’s not going to do anything about it. He’s too AA for that. They’re a meek bunch, from what I know.”

“You’re right,” she said. “I don’t think he’s capable of any real violence. He’s still crying over some kid he beat up when he lost his temper on the playground thirty years ago.”

“Good,” said Freel. “Because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that when it comes to their kids, some people go insane.”

38

The next day, while driving home from the mall—where all she did was window-shop—Natalie answered the mellow yoga chant that served as her ringtone. It was Freel.

“I have good news and bad news, Nat,” he said. “Which do you want first?”

“Give me the bad.”

“Okay,” he said. “I just checked my line-of-credit balance online. I’ve got $23,000 left.”

“How’s that bad news?”

“Because thanks to my expenses and the way you spend my money, I’ll burn through this in a month.”

“Did you ever hear of conserving your capital?” she said.

“No, I never heard of that. Especially with you around.”

“This traffic’s ridiculous,” said Natalie. She gunned her car onto the shoulder and, gravel flying, pulled around a slow-moving truck.

“Anyway,” Freel said, “that’s the bad news. Now for the good news. I just got off the phone with Witt’s lawyer. The final number is nine point one million—”

Natalie shrieked.

“—and, on your behalf, I’ve accepted,” Freel said.

“Oh my God!” said Natalie. “You did it. You did it. I love you. You’re a genius.”

“The papers are coming here by courier. They’ll be here by two,” he said. “So stop whatever it is you’re doing and get over here and be ready to sign. I’ll personally take the agreement to his lawyer after that. Then Witt will sign and we’ll get a certified check by noon on Friday. This deal is beautiful. It’s a work of art.”

Natalie drummed her fingers on her steering wheel. “But that’s only, like, thirty percent of his net worth,” she said. “I thought you said we could get forty or fifty percent.”

“Well, I was wrong,” he said. “You’ve got almost ten fucking million dollars, not to mention $12,500 per month in child support. Take the deal, you lunatic. It’s a great deal. If he wanted to, he could fight you and tie us up for three or four years, with no guarantee of anything. That’s three or four more years of shit tips for you.”

“Oh my God. Nine point one. I can’t believe it.”

“And by the way,” Freel said, “I want you to quit that fucking waitress gig tonight, because tomorrow I’m flying you first class to Vegas, and we’re staying in the Regal Suite at Caesar’s Palace. Twenty-five hundred a night, for three nights. I’m going to spend everything I have left on you. Start making excuses to your boyfriend so you can get him to take care of the kid while you’re gone.”

“You’re just buttering me up so I don’t forget I owe you your $300,000 fee.”

“Yeah, that will be nice, too.”

By the time Natalie arrived at Freel’s office, the courier from Witt’s lawyer had come and gone. Freel, gloating and silent, handed her a pen. Without reading a word, she signed the settlement agreement at all the places indicated by little red sticky arrows stuck to the pages. Freel hovered over her.

“Witt’s signature’s not on any of these pages,” Natalie said.

“First we sign, then he signs. Nothing out of the ordinary. Somebody has to sign first. It’s standard practice.”

“He’d better sign,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Freel.

Barely saying goodbye, Freel grabbed the papers, shoved them into an envelope, jumped into his Lamborghini, and took off.

Natalie headed home to the condo. It didn’t surprise her that Augie was sitting in Lock’s lap as he held a picture book and described out loud to his son what was depicted on the pages. She gave Lock a quick kiss on the lips and patted Augie on his head. She put her bag on the coffee table and turned to Lock.

“Just got off the phone with my sister. No big bombshell, but she’s in crisis mode again—one of her kids got expelled for bullying or something, and she wants me to spend a week there, holding her hand, I guess.”

“A week?” Lock showed a vexed expression.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I talked her into three days and she’s okay with that.”

Lock didn’t believe her for a second. He felt sick, but then caught himself and immediately used one of the techniques he’d learned in AA—to get into the present moment and squeeze all the joy out of it, instead of projecting negatively into the future. To accomplish that, rather than picturing Natalie with another man, Lock explained to himself that Natalie’s absence would mean more one-on-one time with Augie. And that meant everything to him. He felt calm again. Actually, he felt even better than he had before she’d come home.

“And when’s all this?” Lock asked.

“First thing in the morning. I’ll pack tonight so I don’t disturb you when I wake up.”

“What about your job at the diner?”

“Taken care of.”

“Don’t worry about disturbing me in the morning, Natalie,” said Lock. “I’ll be up early with Augie.”

The next morning, after Freel and Natalie’s limo ride to Philadelphia International, the red-and-blue Southwest Airlines Boeing 737 took off on time. Five and a half hours later, six pieces of luggage were dropped off in Freel’s Japanese-themed suite at Caesar’s Palace. The rooms were as opulent as Freel had promised.

“
Thirteen hundred square feet and two full bathrooms,” Freel said, looking around the suite. “This place is like a mansion. It’s got a media room with a TV as big as a Jumbotron, a kitchen, a pool table, and a private wet bar with a perfect view of the Strip. On the other side of the kitchen, there’s two extra bedrooms. And wait until I get you into the Jacuzzi. It’s like a small pool.”

Natalie opened the curtains wide and looked out onto Las Vegas Boulevard. “I want to walk from one end of the Strip to the other. How many miles is it?”

“No idea,” said Freel. “But it will take hours. And you’ll walk alone. I’m not here for exercise.”

“I thought you were here to be with me,” Natalie said. She began unpacking her bags and hanging clothes in a closet that was larger than most standard hotel rooms.

“I am,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean craps tables don’t exist. Plus, we’re already winning. Before we left from home, I wired in fifteen thousand to the casino. And when I checked in, the desk clerk told me our room rate dropped from twenty-five hundred to twelve-fifty. Must be a high-roller discount or something.”

“I doubt fifteen thousand qualifies you as a high roller. Not these days. If they thought you were a high roller, they’d comp the whole room. And food, too.”

“I have reservations at Nobu for tonight,” said Freel. “Tomorrow, I’ve arranged for a helicopter tour of the Grand Canyon’s West Rim. I had to buy the four other seats so we’d be alone. We’ll fly over Hoover Dam and Lake Mead. It’ll be cool.”

Freel was somber the next morning. He’d lost almost twelve thousand dollars overnight in the casino. He waited as Natalie finished her half hour of yoga before they headed down to the restaurant for breakfast. She wore sandals, cut-offs, and a t-shirt.

As Natalie ordered fresh blueberries and hot green tea, her phone rang. She signaled to Freel to be quiet and pasted a broad smile on her face as she answered.

“Hi, Lock,” she said. “How are my two loves?”

Freel couldn’t hear what Lock was saying, but he could see Natalie couldn’t wait to get off the phone. She listened as Lock talked.

“Maybe he just has a little bit of a cold or something,” she said, changing her tone to sound serious. “Why don’t you call the pediatrician if you’re really worried? Anyway, I’ll be home in forty-eight hours or so and I’ll take care of both of you. My sister’s shouting for me from downstairs. I need to go.”

Natalie listened for another half minute. Finally, she said, “I love you too,” and hung up.

After breakfast, Freel’s mood improved as they headed in a cab to get to the helicopter.

“What a great idea, Jerome.”

“What’s a great idea?”

“This helicopter tour. And with just us. No one else, especially no noisy kids with their cellphone cameras and endless questions.”

Natalie couldn’t wait to get airborne. Freel couldn’t wait for it to be over so he could get back to the craps tables.

Two days later, exhausted and completely broke, even though he had wired himself more gambling money—another ten thousand—Freel and Natalie flew home. Freel borrowed twenty bucks from Natalie to tip the limo driver.

Thursday night, Freel and Natalie arrived an hour and a half late at Philadelphia International. Natalie was exhausted and in an irritable mood—she was annoyed about both the flight delay and the prospect of having to deal with Lock and Augie. She could avoid them a little longer by staying with Freel, she said. Freel wanted to be alone after being so close to another human being for several consecutive days, but he didn’t want to provoke her. They didn’t say much as they drove on the Schuylkill Expressway, passed Boathouse Row, and went through Fairmount Park to his house.

Freel didn’t know if she was disgusted with him and his bad behavior in Las Vegas, and he didn’t care. He had her wrapped around his little finger. That was good, especially since Natalie was about to be worth nearly ten million. The story about the other client and the forty percent fee was a lie. Freel didn’t want Natalie to think his only money came from the settlement fee from her divorce. He grinned inwardly, thinking about how he was going to offer to manage her money—after all, he had much more experience with money than she did—and if he could swing that, he’d be on Easy Street for the rest of his life. He might even have to marry her—a small sacrifice, considering.

Friday morning, while driving to his office after saying goodbye to Natalie, Freel’s thoughts returned to the settlement check that, he hoped, had been delivered the day before. With his $300,000 fee and the prospect of being able to usurp some of Natalie’s fortune, things were looking up. He was excited about the upcoming day.

Freel entered his office and went straight to his desk. Atop the pile of mail, placed there by his secretary, sat an unopened FedEx envelope. He examined its shipping label and saw it had indeed been sent from Mannheim’s lawyer’s firm. The cardboard envelope had arrived Thursday afternoon.

While standing behind his desk, holding it proudly, Freel kissed the envelope and said aloud, “The check for Natalie’s $9.1 million.
Hallelujah
. You couldn’t have come a minute too soon.” He held up the envelope and regarded for a moment with pure joy, then furiously tore it open.

Inside, there was a single sheet of paper. He would read that in a minute. He wanted to look at that check first, hold it, gaze upon it. It was the single biggest settlement he’d negotiated in his entire legal career, and he knew he might not have one this lucrative ever again. He wanted to savor this moment. But he didn’t see the check. He looked inside the envelope, turned it upside down, and shook it. Nothing there.
They must be wiring it to my account
, he figured. He knew Mannheim’s lawyer was a jerk, but honorable. A deal was a deal. There was some explanation for the check’s absence, and the letter would clear that up. No worries.

Freel unfolded the letter, and as he read it, his eyes opened wide and the blood drained from his face. The only paragraph on the page stated that Mannheim had decided not to sign the settlement documents and that he’d withdrawn his offer. Furthermore, Mannheim’s lawyer notified Freel that his client would immediately file an amended petition in the Brandywine County Common Pleas court and intended to “fight the extortionistic and coercive demands of his client’s spouse with considerable resources, for however long it takes to prevail.”