What We Find (25 page)

“Yes, sir,” the young man said. “No charges will be filed.”

“I’d prefer a dismissal, Your Honor,” Cal said. “I don’t want this charge visited on Ms. Canaday again. She doesn’t need the aggravation.”

“Consider it dead, Mr. Jones,” the ADA said. “We’re done with this.”

“Then an apology.”

“Come on,” the ADA said.

“Frankly, I think you should apologize,” the judge said. “Or we can go through the motions, swear the bartender and listen to his testimony. But—”

“All right, all right. Sorry for the inconvenience!”

“In writing,” Cal said.

The ADA sighed. “Yes. Of course.”

The judge gave his gavel a rap. “We’re done here. Next case.”

What lies behind us and what lies before us
are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chapter 16

Becky threw her arms around Cal’s neck, thanking him. The ADA prom
ised there would be nothing on her record and when Cal left her, the bartender was chatting her up. Cal suspected he hoped for either an assignation or perhaps a business deal, though he was probably twenty-five to her thirty-six.

He called Tom from the parking lot. “I’d like to talk to you when you have a little time. A private conversation. I’ll meet you wherever you like.”

“I’m headed home for a little lunch between jobs. Is Becky all right?”

“She’s fine, Tom. There are no charges.”

He heard him sigh in relief. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“It wasn’t too difficult. So—will we be able to talk privately at your house?”

“Yeah, the kids are all gone today. Noon?” Then he gave him the address in Timberlake.

Cal pulled up to a good-looking, restored three-story Victorian. He remembered Tom’s story about the half a house and expected to see side-by-side doors, but there was just one set of double doors. There was a great wide porch, the floor painted blue and the porch rail white. The double doors were oak and leaded glass.

When Tom let him in, Cal was speechless. He stepped into a roomy foyer, living room on one side and open staircase with a rich-looking banister on the other side. Straight ahead a hallway led past the living room and dining room. “Come on back,” Tom said. And Cal followed him into a large kitchen with what appeared to be fairly new stainless steel appliances. He turned around in a full circle.

“Tom,” Cal said. “This is amazing!”

“Thanks,” he said. He had bread, cold cuts, mayo and other stuff on the table and was building a couple of sandwiches. He shuffled everything together and finished quickly. He put each on a plate, sliding one to Cal. Then he grabbed a bag of chips and put it on the table.

“You do that like a guy who’s been making school lunches for years.”

“Tell me about Becky,” Tom said.

“I can tell you the results of the proceedings. No charges were filed.”

“So it
was
a misunderstanding!” he said, relieved.

“I guess you could call it that. The assistant district attorney was a young, inexperienced guy who didn’t really vet that arrest report thoroughly—the police officer had not provided sufficient probable cause for the arrest. It was a sting, Tom. The officer shouldn’t have arrested her unless money changed hands, which it did not.”

“What are you saying?” Tom asked, putting down his sandwich.

“All arrests and court proceedings are a matter of public record. If you’re ever so inclined, you can look these things up and draw your own conclusions. The important thing is, Becky doesn’t have this on her record, doesn’t go to jail, doesn’t pay a fine.”

“So it’s all good,” Tom said. “Want a Coke?”

“Thanks, that’d be great. Can you tell me about this house? I thought you had part of a house?”

“Eighteen years ago. Not quite half. We had our own entrance to the second floor from a staircase out back. Mrs. Berkshire had a small galley kitchen installed and we didn’t need much more than that. We had two rooms on the second floor, two on the third or attic floor. It was perfect for us. Especially when the kids were little. We fixed it up. And I helped Mrs. Berkshire with everything she needed. My dad and brother even pitched in a lot because Mrs. Berkshire was older than dirt and her son didn’t pay her any attention at all. We were all she had. We even put on a new roof. Then she died about ten years ago and left me the house.” He shook his head and laughed. “Her son didn’t like that much. He tried fighting it. But her will stuck. So we started tearing down walls and making it one house.”

“Tom, it’s beautiful.”

“Well, I work construction when I can. And I do a lot of built-ins for rich folks up on the ridge. Those are my best jobs.”

“But this is incredible. How’d you do it?”

“Well, hell, Cal—I had eighteen years to work on it! And my dad and brother helped. I had four kids and just got by the best I could—they were awful generous with their time. I try to help my folks and brother, too. You know, when we all work on the same team, stuff gets done.”

Cal finished his sandwich and asked for a tour of the house and was astonished by the finishing detail work, not to mention the fact that a man and four kids lived in the house and it was spotless. “I run a tight ship,” Tom said. “I have to.”

“I think you’re amazing.”

“Cal, what’s going on with my wife?” Tom asked.

Cal put his hands in his pockets and looked squarely at Tom. “I’m not at liberty to share our professional conversation, Tom. That’s the law—I could lose my license over it. But I can tell you a couple of things you already know, the most important being—she’s not your wife anymore, Tom. And you told me yourself—this isn’t the first time. That’s just fact.”

“She said it was always a misunderstanding...”

Cal just looked at Tom, great sympathy in his heart for the man.

“I’ve been kidding myself, haven’t I?”

Cal didn’t respond because he couldn’t.

“Becky is one of the sweetest, most considerate women I’ve ever known,” Tom said. “She’s so loving and kind. She really cares about her kids and the kids love her.”

“She’s their mother,” Cal said. “While not all mothers are so wonderful, I’m glad to know she’s a loving mother.”

“But...?”

“Tom, you’re going to have to figure this out for yourself. I wish I could somehow make this easier for you but the truth is, there’s nothing more I can tell you. I’m just glad we managed to work out this court case so neatly. You’re going to have to take it from here.”

“I’ll pay you somehow.” He laughed uncomfortably. “I don’t even know what a lawyer gets for a case like this.”

Cal put a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about that, buddy. We’re friends. We help each other when we can. Right?”

“Right. Well,” he said, rubbing a hand around the back of his neck. “Thanks for everything. I really appreciate it.”

* * *

July ended toasty and warm, the lake was refreshing and the landscape was lush. The garden was plentiful and since his schedule wasn’t demanding most days, Cal was out on the trails several times a week for a few hours. He came across the search-and-rescue team running exercises along the mountain face, climbing a steep rock and rappelling down. He watched Jackson training with them for a while, wearing his rock climbing rigging proudly.

Cal thought he might have to try that one day soon. Then he looked straight up to the top of that mountain and almost swooned. He decided he could probably find better things to do with his time. Some of the trails that wound around the steep side of the mountain were challenging enough.

Maggie, however, was like a goat. She went along with him sometimes; she was sure-footed and lithe. They usually didn’t talk until they reached a summit and relaxed, enjoying the view. They’d sit, guzzle a pint or so of water, let the breeze cool them and unwind before they talked.

“I think you’re starting to like Colorado,” Maggie said.

“Colorado has a lot to offer,” he said, putting his arm around her.

“What are the chances you’ll stick around?”

“I haven’t made any plans to leave yet, Maggie. You getting tired of me?”

She laughed. “Do I act like I’m getting tired of you? You’re almost like one of the family. If you leave now it might upset Sully more than me.”

“I hope that’s not true. I haven’t spent much time with Phoebe and don’t know Walter yet.”

“I don’t want to scare you off,” she said. “I’ve been wondering—how did it feel, doing a little lawyer work?”

“Very familiar,” he said with a laugh. “It wouldn’t be a big deal to rent space, take a few clients here and there. I don’t want to make any fast moves,” he added.

“I know you’re in flux, that you left Michigan in a state of grief and by the time you got here you weren’t sure what kind of life you wanted. Are you getting any closer to knowing? Like where you want to be? How you want to live? Work? Any of that?”

“I kind of like the life I have right now. It’s satisfying.”

“What about lawyering?”

“Turns out there’s a use for me in that regard, as well,” he said. “I worked a little bit.”

“But were you paid?”

“I’ll be paid one way or another,” Cal said. “But then it turns out I don’t need much money, living off my girl like I am.”

“I’m your girl, am I?”

“I’d say we’re pretty attached. Wouldn’t you say?”

“What I want to know, Cal, is will you ever be able to talk about the future? Because I might want to. Talk about the future.”

“And I’d love to hear what you have to say about it. From what I’ve heard so far, you and I are in the same bucket here—trying to figure out what to do next.”

“Well, for starters, I want to stay here. I’m planning to raise a family here.”

“Ah,” he said. “Are congratulations in order?”

“I’d like to tell you something very personal. Sully doesn’t know. No one around here does and only a couple of people in my other world. Can you keep a confidence?”

“You know I can.”

“I
do
know you can. A little too well for my tastes. I’d love to know about your court case, and yes I know you weren’t teasing me—it was really court. You were dressed way too pretty for just giving legal advice or helping someone understand statutes.”

“Could have been a meeting with an IRS auditor,” he suggested. “It’s smart to dress up for those guys, too.”

“Never mind,” she scoffed. She took a breath. “Here goes. I think I loved Andrew. I was seeing him for a couple of years. I was prepared to marry him. We lived in different towns but the distance was commutable if our situation changed, like if we wanted to live together. Then it did change. I got pregnant. And,” she said, taking a breath, “he was very clear, he didn’t want to have a child. He’s forty and is the single father of an eight-year-old daughter. He had a pretty unhappy marriage and ugly divorce and he was not inclined to be the happy daddy. The fact that I was excited about it didn’t seem to change things. But I guess all that’s kind of irrelevant—I miscarried.”

He pulled her a little closer. “I’m sorry, Maggie.”

“Thank you.”

“Was that the cause of the breakup? The pregnancy?”

“Not completely. Even through our disagreement, and it was pretty fierce, I stuck. He wanted me to abort, I refused, we fought. Then I lost the baby and he was very sensitive and supportive. Kind. But I couldn’t get beyond it—my heart was so broken. I was so grief-stricken it surprised even me. I cried all the time. I was a total basket case, but there was so much going on—my ex-partners being indicted, my lawsuit, the threat of bankruptcy... No one noticed there was one more disappointment in my life. Except Andrew, he noticed. He said he couldn’t take it anymore. He told me to get myself together. To get professional help if necessary.”

Cal grimaced. “That was decent of him.”

“He did me a favor, I can see that now. I can’t be with a man like that. With or without a child.”

“I bet he’s kicking himself now...”

“He’s too late.”

“He’s back?” Cal asked.

“Begging for another chance. Seriously, he’s much too late.”

“How about me?” he asked. “Are you sure I’m the right kind of man? Dead wife, crazy family, living in the rumpus room, practicing law for free?”

“Is that what your life is always going to look like?” she asked.

“What if it does? What do you want
your
life to look like?”

“I don’t have all the details worked out yet,” she said. “But I’m getting closer. I want a man who adores me—check. I want to live around here—check. Baby? Am I too old for that?”

“You have plenty of time,” he said. “You do very well with Beau. You’ll make a fine mother. Are you going to work?”

“Maybe. Are you?”

“I will always work,” he said. “I’m not sure I’ll work as a defense attorney, but there’s always a lot to do. Are you going to raise this alleged child in the rumpus room?”

“I said I haven’t worked out all the details yet! Probably not, but I haven’t come up with a good alternative. Do you want to grow old with me in the rumpus room?”

“I’d say yes to the first part of the question and reserve judgment on the second. Maggie, are we in a hurry? Do you sense your eggs hatching?”

“Do not make fun of me,” she said.

He tightened his arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight. “I’m not making fun of you. I think you know I love you...”

“Even though you haven’t bothered to say so?” she asked, a little sarcastically.

“Even though I haven’t exactly said so. But you did ask me to get together a... What did you call it? A statement of intent and a plan? Very sexy, Maggie. I’ve been working on that. Working like mad, really.”

“You have?”

“I have. I’m not quite there yet, but I’m trying. You can’t be cranky about that since you don’t even know where you’re going to raise your child. I should get the summer to devise a really excellent mission statement, don’t you think? You can’t accuse me of stringing you along until the end of August. Right?”