Chapter 9: Your Honor

I felt a bit giddy the next morning. Jacqueline spotted me coming into the office and rushed over to chat with me.

We talked a little about Felicity and Rose. She asked if I had any update, but I hadn’t heard from Felicity since the night before.

Then Jackie smiled wickedly at me. “Someone got laid last night.”

“You know,” I began, pouring milk into my coffee, “I always hated that expression.”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “Things are good with the artist?”

I couldn’t help the blissful smile that spread across my face. Jackie rolled her eyes but she smiled, too.

Robert came into the kitchen, his gaze moving over us. “Before you ask, Elizabeth, there’s nothing fucking new.”

I knew he could go with a few options, particular Attempted Murder or Assault. The first would carry a term of no less than fifteen years, so it would probably be fifteen years to life. The other was trickier. He could get as little as 5 years, or possibly 25.

“You have no court date? No plan?”

He put a donut in his mouth with a roll of his eyes and walked out. I followed.

Roger stood talking with Landon Fontaine. My body tightened. Robert pulled the donut out of his mouth and greeted him, shaking his hand. I felt sick.

Landon caught sight of me and gave me one of his asshole smiles. “Liz. How are you, sweetheart? It’s been ages.”

It really hadn’t been. Fucker. I fought the urge to curl my lips. “Fine. Yourself?”

“Oh, I’ve had better days. Very unfortunate, what’s happened to your friend.”

“Let’s move to my office,” Roger cut in. He didn’t bother to glance at me, but Robert gave me a smug look.

They were in there for forever. I gnawed at my nails, unable to even pretend like I was working. The three of them eventually came out, laughing with each other. I overheard them talking about lunch. The might as well have been smoking cigars and palming their crotches.

I couldn’t stop myself. I jumped over and approached them. “What’s the plan of action to keep him off the street?”

Roger shook his head, Robert stared at me and Landon watched with slight amusement.

“That’s none of your business at this time, Ms. Quilty,” Roger said. Robert wasn’t able to stifle his snort.

“I feel terrible for how this turned out,” Landon said with his practiced politeness. His eyes peered at me with what I’d almost think was genuine sympathy if I didn’t know him better. “No one wanted things to work out like this.”

I looked at Roger. “What are you charging him with?”

“Jesus, she doesn’t stop,” Rob groaned. He shakes his head when I look at him. “We’re filing for Aggravated Assault and are considering a plea agreement with Mr. Fontaine due to problems with Mr. Tierney’s medications. He has been sick for a while now and we’re suspecting the medication issues contributed to his violence. Happy now?”

My mouth dropped. I looked from Roger to Robert. “That can’t possibly be the best you can do. You’re factoring in his medication ... What, did you make a plea for insanity? This is fucking insanity. He isn’t crazy, you asshole.”

Roger took an imposing step towards me. “I think we will have to continue this discussion when I come back from lunch.”

There was a heavy silence. All of the work I’d done, the years I put in under Roger, the respect I’d had for him ... and yet now we were strangers. He was a little man in my eyes. That I ever idolized him ashamed me, and made me feel terribly for my father. They’d once been good friends. I dreaded telling Dad that Roger had lost his decency somewhere along the lines, if he’d ever been respectable.

This wasn’t just about him being an asshole. It wasn’t even just about Rose and Felicity anymore. This had become incredibly personal. Dan Tierney had messed up my life, too. He threatened me, terrified me, hurt people who had become important to me. To see these people whose job it was to seek vengeance so cavalierly dismiss our suffering made me nearly blind with rage.

“That won’t be necessary,” I said. I swallowed and straightened my spine. “I’m resigning.”

I began walking away, ignoring all the eyes on me, but then I paused. It was petty, but it was the only weapon I had. And I felt like doing something petty, even if it would only take the edge off for a little bit.

I looked back and met Roger’s eyes. “By the way, Roger. Something you should know that’s been eating at me. Robert fucked your wife. Almost all of us know about it. Thought you might like to know, sir.”

I didn’t bother waiting for his reaction. Instead I went to my desk and gathered a few of my personal things. I stalked out of the office, tying desperately not to cry.

Olivia ran the soaked cloth up my back. “Are you sure you have to go back there for another two weeks?”

“No. It might be easier to say he fired me. He was going to, anyway.”

“Will you tell them—Felicity—about the deal?”

The thought killed me. “I don’t know. No.”

She kissed the corner of my mouth. Then she went on, bathing me as she knelt beside the tub. She ran the washcloth against my nipples. I felt a detached sort of arousal. I asked her to join me a few times but she kept saying she wanted it to be about me.

“I went to visit Rose today.”

I gathered my knees to my chest and rested my chin on top. “You did?”

“Felicity says it might take longer to revive her than anticipated. She was fighting with one of the nurses when I got there. I invited her over here but she doesn’t leave Rose’s side.” She massaged my back.

My eyes shut. “Hmm.”

“I love you, Elizabeth.”

I opened my eyes and looked at Olivia. Her eyes were dark and filled with tenderness. “I love you, too.”

It snowed that Saturday. The stoop to my parents’ apartment was very icy. I took Olivia’s hand and gingerly helped her up the steps. I rang their bell and smiled when I caught Olivia plucking the skirt of her dress nervously.

The door buzzed and I opened it, letting her walk inside first. I never saw her so nervous before. She’d left her long dark hair down and she had gone easy on the makeup. I told her she looked the prettiest I’d ever seen her. She tried to smile.

We were quiet on the elevator—she didn’t want to hear any more of my assurances that my parents would love her because she didn’t believe me and she said I was getting annoying—but I took her hand and squeezed.

I’d already told my parents I was bringing a woman with me. It had been an interesting conversation with my mother.

“You’re telling me over the phone?”

I felt bad. “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t really think.”

“No, you didn’t. Are you sure this isn’t just a phase?”

“No,” I’d said firmly. “Why is it that when guys turn gay, it’s like, ‘Oh, he’s definitely gay’ but when a girl says she’s a lesbian people are like, ‘It’s just a phase!’”

“I don’t know, Elizabeth, and I certainly didn’t mean it in an anti-feminism way so spare me. I barely hear from you, hardly see you in months, and you call me to tell me you have a girlfriend. I apologize I’m not reacting the way you wanted me to. I never knew my daughter was a lesbian so give me a fucking break.”

Then I’d felt really shitty. “I’m sorry, Mom. I just didn’t know what to do. But I know that I really want you to meet her.”

So lunch was set up. I figured my mother told my dad, so that would be interesting. Also, in a morbid and selfish way, I wanted to take my mind off Dan Tierney pacing his jail cell and Rose Sherman lying in bed with a machine breathing for her.

I still didn’t know if the deal between Robert and Landon was officially struck. Jackie couldn’t tell me one way or the other because of course she went on fucking vacation that week.

Mom was standing outside their apartment, holding open the door. She put on a brave smile when she saw us step off the elevator. One arm waved us forward while the other held the door open.

Olivia nodded and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Quilty.”

“Call me Anne,” Mom said automatically. She tried to hold on to the bright smile she must’ve practiced, but it began to slip. “Please come in.”

Mom didn’t look at me.

We walked inside and there was my father. He held a bottle of wine in his hands.

“Hello. I’m Matt.”

“Hello,” Olivia whispered. Her palm was sweating.

“Wine?” Dad asked.

I cleared my throat. “Please.”

Mom silently brought out some appetizers and sat down. Everyone took a seat. The clock in the room ticked as we desperately tried to think of something to say.

Dad shifted so that he could get a better look at Olivia. “I googled you. I must say I love your work. I’m not really much of an art guy but I liked it.”