Chapter 91

1 p.m., Sunday

Joy put her garment bag into the back of her Mitsubishi Spyder just as her father's Cadillac pulled into the drive. She gave a slight wave and jumped into the driver's seat before she had to talk to the man. She had the car in reverse when she noticed William hobbling toward the house.

She almost put the car into drive and left him to his own devices before her mother's words from the morning before entered her brain. With a sigh, she turned back into the drive and got out.

"Are you OK, Dad?" she asked in a voice that she hoped showed suitable concern.

William nodded but even that slight motion seemed to cause him discomfort.

"Did your back go out again?" Joy asked. She didn't really want to - but she went to help him inside.

William only grunted his answer. He had his left hand on his hip and lower back when his daughter put his right arm around her shoulder so she could help him inside.

"Where's your mother?" William asked in a tight voice.

"She's had to go into the office," Joy answered.

William bit back a retort as Joy put her key back into the front door lock. She pushed the door open and aided her father into the house.

"Thanks," William said grudgingly as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Do you need me to take you to the doctor?" Joy asked him. It would severely cut into her afternoon but she couldn't very well let her mother find out that she'd left the man on the living room floor.

"I'll be fine," William replied. "It looks as though you were headed out."

"I'm just going to study," Joy told him. "I asked Mom. She knew where I was headed."

William nodded - and groaned again.

"Remember when I was a little girl?" Joy asked.

"Of course," William replied.

"When this would happen, you'd have me walk on your back," Joy continued, choosing to ignore her father's tone of voice. "Did that actually help or did you do it just to make me feel special?"

William Dalrymple actually smiled as a memory flitted across his mind.

"It helped," he said, turning the smile toward the child he couldn't begin to understand.

"Well, I think if I lean some of my weight on the couch, I could do that now," she offered. "I mean, I'm a little bigger now."

William patted his waistline.

"Yeah, me too," he answered. "The doctor tells me if I'd lose some of this, I might not hurt my back as often."

"You should talk to Ruth," Joy informed her father.

"Does she plan to be a dietician or something?" William wondered. He had seen Ruth - almost all of Ruth - the weekend before. She didn't need to lose weight.

"She was really big last year," Joy told him. "She's lost a ton of weight - without starving herself. She might be able to give you some tips. I mean, you know, if you want them. If the doctor says you should, maybe you ... you know..."

"Should," William finished.

"Do you want me to?" Joy asked.

"If she has any ideas, I'll listen," William replied. "Thank you."

"I mean, do you want me to walk on your back?" Joy corrected. "I can. Or I can take you to the doctor if you think that's better. I doubt the medical journals are big proponents of having a grown up standing on your spine."

"You were getting ready to leave," William pointed out again.

"They'll still be there whenever I get there," Joy told him.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" William asked. It had been more than a year since he'd even really spoken to his child - and longer than that since they'd spent more than 20 minutes together without an argument ensuing.

"I don't mind," Joy assured him. "Let's get you to the couch and I'll go upstairs to get some liniment."

"I think I'm better off right here," William said. "I'll have to be on the floor. Your mom would skin us both if she found out I let you stand up on the furniture."

Joy laughed and nodded. It felt strange to share a genuine moment of humor with her father.

"Don't run off," she replied with a smile. "I'll be back."

Joy hustled up the stairs, found the muscle ointment in the medicine cabinet and saw a bottle of pills that she recognized as muscle relaxers. She looked at them for a moment before picking up the bottle of Flexeril. She doubted she would have to explain to her father how she knew about the medication's affects but she was prepared to if it came to that.

She veered off to the kitchen for a bottle of water and found William just where she'd left him.

"Take this," she said, handing him the pill. William knew what it was but glanced at his daughter anyway. He decided a muscle relaxant probably wasn't the worst thing she'd ingested in the past few years.

She helped him onto the floor before she kicked off her sandals. Her father grunted when she stepped onto his lower back and Joy put her hands on the back of the couch to ease the weight distribution.

"It was OK," William told her. "I think you found the knot on the first try though."

As she used her heels and her toes to dig into the muscles she remembered times from years earlier - before the big house, before the junior partnership, before the private schools - when William would let her almost jump up and down on his body while he lay prone on the floor.

She figured it had been at least 10 years since she'd done this last.

"You still have the 'Magical Toes, '" her father said. "It already feels a lot better."

"Good," Joy told him. Even though her feet weren't as sensitive as her hands, she could feel the tension in her father's back lessening.

"Is it more than just being a little overweight?" she asked.

"Stress," William said after a pause. Joy had noticed medication for high blood pressure and anxiety in the medicine cabinet, too. "It starts with my weight but stress doesn't help anything."

For one of the rare times in recent years, Joy felt guilty about causing anguish to her family. She had noticed the anxiety medication had her mother's name on the bottle.

"I'm sorry I've been such a pain for the last few years," she told him. "I'm ... I'm trying to do better."

"I know and I'm sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion yesterday morning," William conceded.

"Past performance is indicative of future behavior," Joy recited - mangling the disclaimer that came on every commercial for a financial adviser on television.

William chuckled which caused Joy to lift slightly upward.

"You have that backward," he said before repeating the correct version. "I ... I appreciate that you're taking the time to do this. It's really helping."

"Well, between this and being a better daughter, maybe we can keep this under control," Joy said. "At least the stress part."

"It's more than just you," William said. "Yeah, I worry about you but you're not my only source of stress. I'd be a happy man if you were all I had to worry about. I guess I always figured you'd grow out of ... that stuff ... in due time."

"What else is bothering you?" Joy inquired. Collette and William Dalrymple were as different as two people could be. She had expected them to divorce at any time in the past five years - but they seemed to get along pretty well.

"Just work stuff, Honey," William told her. "It's my worry, not yours."

"And you're my worry," Joy replied, wondering where the words had come from. "If you think it will help to talk about it, I'm here to listen. I remember when you used to tell me all sorts of things about your job."

"You were my little therapist and my chiropractor," William agreed. He was certain when Joy was six years old that she would be the fourth generation of his family to enter the legal profession. By the time she was 16, he was positive that any view of the law Joy achieved would come as the defendant, not as the defense attorney.

"So?" Joy pressed - verbally and with her heels.

"The senior partner is retiring in a few months," William related. "The politics at the office between the junior partners is ridiculous. Really, there are only two of us that could possibly fill the role."

"You and who else?" Joy wondered. She knew her father was an excellent attorney - and that her grandfather's name still carried a lot of weight in the legal community.

"Sylvia Sloaf," William said. "Do you recall her?"

"Tall woman, brown hair, always wore a pearl necklace," Joy said, searching her memory for a face she hadn't seen in years.

"Well, she really isn't that tall," William joked. "I think it was more that you were that small the last time you talked to her. But she has brown hair and the necklace is right."

"Is she qualified?" Joy wondered.

"Oh, absolutely," William replied. "Top of her class at Columbia, Law Review. She's probably one of the best attorneys in the nation - not just in the state."

"Oh," Joy said. "So you're worried that she'll get chosen ahead of you."

"I'm worried that she won't," William admitted. "Why don't you hop off? My back feels better."

"Sure," Joy said. She helped her father to his feet and then surprised him by sitting down beside him on the couch. She studied his face carefully. He was in his middle 40s and his dark hair was starting to turn grey. He had the start of a double chin and dark circles beneath his eyes.

"You think she should be chosen but won't be," Joy continued.

"I fear that Sylvia has made some enemies among the partners," William admitted. "Uh, you probably don't see this as much at home but I'm considered a mediator at the office. Sylvia is blunt and I'm a little more diplomatic. Again, I doubt you have a reference since you only see me here."

"And I'm a pain most of the time," Joy said with chagrin. "Can you withdraw your name from consideration?"

"I can," William admitted. "But it's a little more complicated than that. The truth is, if the right person wins the next presidential election, Sylvia is going to get a federal judgeship. At least that's what I've heard. Uh, I have a lot of clients involved in political campaigns. I mean, I knew about Rita before even she did."

"Regan's mom?" Joy asked. "She's not ... in trouble ... is she?"

"Oh, no," William replied. "Rita Riley is just about as untouchable as a person can be in the United States. I'm a bit surprised Regan didn't mention this but Rita was offered a spot on the President's cabinet a few months ago. She was going to lead the Council of Economic Advisers."

"That sounds like a huge deal!" Joy said. "What happened?"

"I don't really know," William admitted. "The rumor I heard is that she turned the job down to spend more time out here. I didn't believe it but, you know, after last weekend, that might have been the truth."

"I still don't know why you can't just turn the job down," Joy pointed out. "I mean, having one of the partners named to a judgeship sounds like a big deal. That should be enough to sway the vote to Sylvia if that's how you want things to go."

"I can't really tell anyone about that," William said. "The guy that told me would get into a lot of trouble. I mean, a candidate can't really make a promise like that outright. From what I've been told, Sylvia doesn't know either. I'm sure she suspects but that's all. And you're right. Having our senior partner selected for the federal bench would be huge for the firm. I think she'd make a good judge but I'm a bit concerned that the appointment is contingent upon her moving up to senior partner first."

"And you just can't bow out?" Joy asked, confusion clear in her voice.

"If I drop out now, I probably won't be considered when Sylvia leaves," William confided. "A few more years as a junior partner would do me some good. You will be almost through with college. Your mother will probably be promoted to editor by that time or she'll go into freelance writing. I'm just not comfortable with timing right now."

He sighed and shifted slightly. Joy heard the man's back crack loudly.

"Much better," he said with relief. "Thank you for doing that. I was a bit worried that your mother might find me face down in the kitchen when she got home."

Joy smiled because the thought of her mother finding William that way was the only reason she'd stayed.

"So, Old Man Jacobs is retiring, right?" Joy wondered. "He's always had a hard ... uh, he's always been impressed with Regan's mom. I can maybe talk to her. She might be willing to call him and mention how favorably she would view the firm promoting a competent female to a leadership role. I'm sure he could twist enough arms - and you'd be out of it completely. Would that help?"

"You don't have to do that," William said, genuinely touched by his daughter's suggestion.

"I might not even be able to do that," Joy said with a shrug. "But I can talk to Rita and see if she's agreeable. You can let me know if you think it will help. It won't cost me anything and you know Rita won't say a word about why she's doing it."

William looked at his daughter.

"I'll think about it," he said. "It's a good suggestion but I don't want you to worry about it. We've all been invited to the Rileys' for graduation. Perhaps I'll see if you can convince Rita to talk to me privately for a moment there. But, for now, you should get on your way. You've been a big help to me."

"Anything you need, Dad," Joy said as she stood. It surprised her to know that she meant it.