The Riches of Mercy (34 page)

Then Joanne checked the clock, tsked, and ushered them into the visitor's room.

Two other families were already at tables, each in corners, seeking as much privacy as possible. Meredity sat at a table, alone.

"Mommy!" The boys ran for her as she knelt, taking them in her arms.

Natalie walked over more slowly.

Meredith kissed Beau, and then Merritt, and then straightened. "Hi."

"Hi." Natalie extended her hands and Meredith took them.

Beau tugged at Meredith's arm. "I brought you something!"

Meredith let go of one of Natalie's hands in order to tap Beau's shoulder. "What?" She sat back in her chair, closer to Beau's eye-level.

Beau set the present on the table. Meredith worked open the lid and then beamed.

"I picked them out at Walmart," Beau said.

"Thank you, Beau. Next time you come I'll smell like these."

Beau laughed so hard he collapsed in a heap on the floor. Merritt went to kick him. Meredith grabbed his arm.

"What's so funny?" Meredith asked.

Beau giggled and pulled himself up.

"She... she sniffed them," Merritt said.

Beau pushed Merritt, breaking into laughter again.

Meredith glanced at Natalie.

"The guard sniffed them. I'm happy to see you."

Meredith pressed her forehead to Natalie's. "Me too."

Beau settled, panting, gazing up at the ceiling.

Merritt wrapped himself around Meredith's free arm.

Natalie met Meredith's eyes. She would have been perfectly content to stay in this position forever. It didn't matter she was in a prison visitor's room, or lunch was a half-eaten sandwich getting warm in the locker. Meredith was here.

"This is all I need," Natalie said.

Meredith tilted her head so her lips were closer to Natalie's ear, and whispered, "You make me into such a sinner, Natalie Ivans, because I need just a little more."

#

Meredith brought her Bible to group therapy. Carol and Juanita brought New Testaments with them, and Siba brought her Qu'ran. They were all ornamental books in the concrete and steel class room.

Meredith hated the room, and the folding chairs, covered in graffiti and stained from years of use, sagging and leaving her with back pain after an hour of emotional anguish. Quite the hair shirt. Posters hung uninspiringly from the walls. Don't do drugs. Get help with pregnancy. Earn a G.E.D.

Believe.

Burdette loved group therapy. Here, under the counselor's watchful gaze, people had to confess. Burdette soaked up the information, studying each person.

The upheaval disturbed Meredith. Just when she learned to trust someone, the person was gone, free or moved into a different group. Replaced by a stranger, just come to town.

She didn't like telling her story over and over again. Each time, under each stranger's gaze, it felt raw and new. She wanted it to saturate into the prison's presence. Like outing herself, there came the fear of judgment and the residual shame of who she was.

Burdette didn't care how many times she repeated her story. She used to tell it in different ways, using funny voices, dramatic effects. Now she let other people tell it if they were willing.

"Burdette, she shot her husband."

"Merry, she knifed hers."

Today, the photograph of Natalie sprawled on the couch with her cat, tucked into the Book of John, was what Meredith focued on. She kept her head down. She listened.

Unkindly, she judged.

Jolene, new to Conrad this week, shorter and skinnier and smaller than the rest of them, covered in tattooes, told her story for the first time. "They said I was shoplifting, right? But what they didn't get was I had a kid to feed. And the store owed me. They knew it. They should have been paying me, but they fired me. I got what was mine. But no one listened."

Burdette knew all the words by now. "Do you feel you're here unjustly?"

"I'm innocent."

People nodded.

"It's the system. Just because they got me on camera with the Blu Ray, they think it’s the whole story." She laughed. "They didn't even check my shoes. No one listens."

"We're listening, Jolene. We're all with you."

"I figured everyone in here got screwed, too," Jolene said.

"You know who else listens?" Burdette asked, jerking her head toward Meredith.

"Burdette--" Charlotte, the group leader, warned.

"No. Tell her, Merry. Who's going to make it right, since the cops are corrupt, the system's corrupt, and we--we don't really give a shit."

"Burdette," Meredith said.

"Shoot. We don't give a shoot."

Jolene laughed.

Meredith knew if she didn't participate, if she kept her head down and thought about Natalie, thought about the world outside, first Burdette would hound her, and then Charlotte. It was unfair, like Jolene said, to be in this position. To do this duty she didn't care about.

Jolene gazed at her attentively, probably wondering if she was some new prison toy to play with.

"God listens," Meredith said.

"God listens?" Jolene said. She glanced around at the other faces in the assembled circle. "Did she just say, 'God listens'?"

"It's true," Burdette said. "If He can listen to me calling His name every night when I'm getting off, He can listen to you."

"Where's your kid now?" Meredith asked.

Jolene snorted. "With my mom."

Charlotte smiled pleasantly. "We're glad you're with us, Jolene, even if these circumstances aren't ideal."

Jolene slouched back against her broken chair.

Charlotte turned to Robin. "You've been quiet, Robin."

"I think I'm the only one here who, though I didn't do anything illegal--" Robin said.

A wave of protest rippled through the circle.

"--I did something wrong," Robin said.

Jolene rolled her eyes.

Burdette grunted.

"And when I'm done serving my time, I'll go back to my life, like I never left it. And I have to wonder," Robin glanced from Meredith to Charlotte, "What's the point of it all?"

"Do you want to make a change?" Charlotte asked.

"Why should she?" Burdette asked.

"I don't know," Robin said.

"Why are you here? Not at Conrad, but here, in therapy?" Charlotte asked.

"It's a good way to learn about the world."

Meredith's grip tightened on her Bible. She caught Robin's gaze, and asked, "Do you have love?"

"I have a husband," Robin said. She considered, and then added, "I think so."

"Good, so she won't tell you to love God," Burdette said.

Meredith wrinkled her nose.

Siba leaned forward. "Do you do good things?"

"I don't do bad things."

Jolene scoffed.

Siba tilted her head.

Robin glanced at her hands. "Oh."

"Robin, I'd like to continue this conversation next week to see what conclusions you've drawn. Or what new questions have arisen," Charlotte said.

Robin nodded, not looking up.

"Siba--" Now that Siba dared to speak, Charlotte would pounce.

Siba folded her arms, smoothing her shawl, trying to withdraw. But she gave Charlotte her attention.

"Last week we were talking about your children's education. What thoughts have you had?"

"Are you kidding me? How is this theraputic?" Jolene asked.

Burdette tapped Jolene's chair with her foot, illiciting a stern glare from Charlotte. Burdette ignored it and said, "Remember how God listens?"

Jolene nodded.

"You gotta listen, too. So shut the fu--" Burdette glanced at Meredith. "Shut--Oh, hell, just be quiet."

Jolene looked Burdette up and down. And then she bit her lip and turned her whole body toward Siba.

Siba swallowed and began to speak.

# #

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Wheeler's dog rested his head in Natalie's lap. She petted.

"He just wants steak," Wheeler said.

"I've heard that about dogs."

Wheeler put a plate of steak and mashed potatoes in front of Natalie.

"Thank you."

He nodded and brought over the decanter, pouring red wine into her glass. "Ksara's Shiraz Cabernet. From Lebanon. You'll find it's very forgiving with steak."

"I'm sure."

He chuckled and sat down.

The dog settled for lying down underneath the table. Natalie rubbed his stomach with her foot.

"Dr. Hank?" she asked.

"Hm?"

"Am I the only one you ever have over?"

He glanced around the condo. "Mostly."

"Thank you, then."

"It's my pleasure. You can tell me all about Meredith and the boys and your work."

"Don't you want to hang out with the other doctors?"

"I see them all day long. Honestly, Nat, I'm a member of the Elks, I go down there a couple times of month. It's all good."

She nodded. "Merry's good. In fact, I have news."

"Yes?" He took a sip of wine.

"She's got a probation hearing in two months."

"Really. Seems sudden."

"It feels eternally far away to me. But she's nearly off intake probation at Conrad. Which means she can join a work detail. She won't, but--"

"Outside the prison, you mean?"

"Yeah. Like picking up trash."

"Sounds like it would be a good way to get fresh air. See the beautiful highways of North Carolina."

"I agree. But she wants to stay in the infirmary."

"Nat. Her prison job is not going to be taken into consideration with the review board or any job application--"

"I know, I know. I think she honestly likes the work."

Wheeler shrugged. "She's crazy. I mean, who wouldn't want to pick up trash?"

Natalie took a sip of wine. Not too sweet, but thin, when she wanted something substantial. She cut into her steak. Bright, wounded red in the middle, charred on the outside.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"The best steak I've ever seen, Dr. Hank."

She took a bite. The crust, salty and meaty, crunched and the flesh underneath was warm and smooth. Almost like butter.

"Mine don't taste like this," she said, taking a sip of wine. The Ksara didn't challenge the steak, just ran around her mouth, refreshing it for the next bite.

"It took years to perfect the technique of the sear. And decades for us to start growing our own Kobe cattle in the US, close enough to be shipped by mail."

Natalie stopped mid-bite. "How much is this beef?"

Wheeler pushed the fork toward her mouth. "I'm a doctor, remember?"

Natalie swallowed. "Well, I'm a lawyer and I've never had the pleasure of this before. To answer your question, no, no steak for the boys. They don't chew enough. They like fried chicken, though."

"I'll send you home with a recipe."

"Thank you?"

"And some Panko. Crust won't set right otherwise."

Natalie ate more steak.

Wheeler asked, "All right, what is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You seem more cheerful than I've seen you since the day you moved to Tarpley. What gives? I know it's not Luis Duarte. I treated the guy once for poison ivy. You'd have thought I was torturing him instead of writing a prescription."

"I've been working my old friends in the prosecutor's office. Pulling some strings with the attorney general."

"Early release?"

"No." Natalie exhaled. "Small favors. All we can trade for these days."

Wheeler nodded.

"I feel bad enough, doing it. It's unethical. Do you know how many women are incarcerated in the state of North Carolina?"

"Only know there are 300 up with Meredith, which, incidentally, is the staff of the hospital."

Natalie shook her head. "She gets a 24 hour release."

Wheeler smiled. "Wonderful. When?"

"Thursday, when Jake takes the kids."

"You scheduled it around babysitting?"

"What else do I have to schedule around?"

"Good point," Wheeler said.

"Is there more steak?" Natalie asked.

The dog lifted his head.

"Better. There's dessert."

#

Luis wore a suit and paced outside the court room with Natalie, holding the cotton tie in his hands. Natalie wanted to ask him if he needed help, wanted to wrap the thing around his neck and be done, but she just watched. She counted his steps. She checked her watch. They were running out of time.

"Luis--"

"Why do I have to wear this? I look fine without it. Like, I wouldn't even wear this to a wedding."

Natalie frowned.

"It's so old-fashioned."

"Luis, you've got to seem like you're willing to play the game. You have to humble yourself before them. Appearing clean-cut--like them--will go a long way."

"What?"

"If you want the judge's sympathy, you're going to have to make yourself meek." She took a deep breath. "Submissive, even. If you show even a hint of anger, or apathy, they're going to--"

"I don't care what the judge thinks."

"Luis, hey."

He stopped his pacing and turned in her general direction.

"They're going to think you're a monster," she said.

"I'm not--"

"I know. You have to act sorry, even if you aren't. Even if it's not your fault. Pretend."

"Fake it 'til I make it?"

"Exactly. The tie?"

"I know how to put on a tie." He slung the tie around his neck and popped his collar. Then frowned. "Do you have a mirror?"

She pulled a compact out of her purse and held it up for him.

A portly white man carrying a briefcase passed them, paused, looked them up and down, and went inside the court room.

Luis snorted.

"Who's that?" Natalie asked.

"I guess he's the other lawyer." Luis straightened his tie.

Natalie nodded. "There's another thing you have to do, Luis."

He raised his eyebrows. In a suit and tie, with his hair washed and the bruises on his face healing, he looked almost... sweet. Like a boy about to enroll in business school. A Young Republican.

"You have to ignore everything they say," Natalie said. "Everything."

"Okay."

"Even if they lie."

"Okay."

"It's going to get bad in there, Luis. Believe me."