“I think he should go home and get a few hours of sleep.”
“I slept in the chair.” Ben lifted his arm and checked his watch, trying not to wince. Bright sun poured into the room through the bank of windows. It was nine thirty. Without the frigid air-conditioning, the place would be a sauna. “Anne, really. I think you’re the one who should go home and take a break.”
“No. I can’t leave.” She held Maddy’s jacket that Vanessa had left, patting the fleece as though it were her daughter.
“You can’t stay forever,” Ben’s father said in his slow measured tone. “We’ll take this shift.”
“Nobody needs to take a shift. Maddy won’t be alone.” Ben ran a hand over his scratchy chin, surrounded by his own rankness. “I’m here.”
“Of course,” his father said. “But you must clean up. And you need to check on the children.”
“The kids are fine. They’re with Vanessa and Sean. And I already spoke to Emma.”
“Then you and I must go somewhere. Away from this waiting room. We need to talk.”
“About what?”
The Judge glanced over at Anne and stood. Even at seventy-six Ben’s father appeared taller than his actual height. Somehow the Judge always appeared patrician, despite his immigrant roots, while Ben carried the mark of their Roma ancestors in every feature. “There are issues to discuss.”
“My only issue at this moment is Maddy.”
His mother tapped his wrist with two fingers. “Don’t be difficult.”
Ben pulled away, exhaustion and hunger battling inside him. He looked around to see if his parents had brought anything practical: a donut, a muffin, even a glass of juice. Nothing. Just the Judge’s counsel.
Ben followed his father into the hall. The moment they separated from Anne and Ben’s mother, his father’s demeanor went from mannered and concerned to controlled vehemence. “I spoke to your brother. He made some calls. He thinks you could be charged with reckless driving. Driving to endanger.”
Between Jake using his connections to indict Ben and his fathercalling on his brother Andrew’s second-rate legal skills to help him, he’d be squashed like a bug.
“Under what auspices did you have Andrew speak for me?” When he spoke to his father, Ben became a ridiculous imitation of to-the-manor-born, matching the Judge haughty word for haughty word.
“He’s simply your temporary counsel.”
“If I needed counsel, I would have arranged it.”
Before his father could respond, Jake came toward them, carrying a cardboard box divided into four spaces. Giant white cups took up three of the notches; a grease-stained bag was balanced on top of the fourth. Ben opened the door and followed his father-in-law and father back into the waiting room.
Jake placed the overstuffed box on one of the side tables, then pecked Ben’s mother’s cheek and shook hands with the Judge.
“I am sorry that you must go through this terrible time, Jake,” the Judge said. “Whatever you need, we’re here.”
“Sure, sure. Sorry I didn’t know you were here. I’ll go back and get you both a coffee. Wait. No. Frances, you take mine.”
“We’re fine.” Ben’s mother pressed her hand to her chest—the nervous gesture familiar. “We already reached our limit.”
Anne lifted the cups from the cardboard box. “You didn’t go to the cafeteria?”
“I know you like the Dunkin’s. I figured you’d want a bagel, even if it was from there. I brought Ben an egg-and-cheese.” He turned to his son-in-law. “You didn’t eat last night, right?”
“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry.”
He was famished.
Anne ripped open the bag and made a flat paper surface for the food. “Eat.” She put three napkins under the egg sandwich and brought it to Ben. “I’ll get your coffee.”
“He can get his own coffee, Anne.” Jake reached over and grabbed a cup, ripping the lid off with a pop. Anne placed a coffee next to Ben.
Gloom regained control of the room. Anne
“I slept in the chair.” Ben lifted his arm and checked his watch, trying not to wince. Bright sun poured into the room through the bank of windows. It was nine thirty. Without the frigid air-conditioning, the place would be a sauna. “Anne, really. I think you’re the one who should go home and take a break.”
“No. I can’t leave.” She held Maddy’s jacket that Vanessa had left, patting the fleece as though it were her daughter.
“You can’t stay forever,” Ben’s father said in his slow measured tone. “We’ll take this shift.”
“Nobody needs to take a shift. Maddy won’t be alone.” Ben ran a hand over his scratchy chin, surrounded by his own rankness. “I’m here.”
“Of course,” his father said. “But you must clean up. And you need to check on the children.”
“The kids are fine. They’re with Vanessa and Sean. And I already spoke to Emma.”
“Then you and I must go somewhere. Away from this waiting room. We need to talk.”
“About what?”
The Judge glanced over at Anne and stood. Even at seventy-six Ben’s father appeared taller than his actual height. Somehow the Judge always appeared patrician, despite his immigrant roots, while Ben carried the mark of their Roma ancestors in every feature. “There are issues to discuss.”
“My only issue at this moment is Maddy.”
His mother tapped his wrist with two fingers. “Don’t be difficult.”
Ben pulled away, exhaustion and hunger battling inside him. He looked around to see if his parents had brought anything practical: a donut, a muffin, even a glass of juice. Nothing. Just the Judge’s counsel.
Ben followed his father into the hall. The moment they separated from Anne and Ben’s mother, his father’s demeanor went from mannered and concerned to controlled vehemence. “I spoke to your brother. He made some calls. He thinks you could be charged with reckless driving. Driving to endanger.”
Between Jake using his connections to indict Ben and his fathercalling on his brother Andrew’s second-rate legal skills to help him, he’d be squashed like a bug.
“Under what auspices did you have Andrew speak for me?” When he spoke to his father, Ben became a ridiculous imitation of to-the-manor-born, matching the Judge haughty word for haughty word.
“He’s simply your temporary counsel.”
“If I needed counsel, I would have arranged it.”
Before his father could respond, Jake came toward them, carrying a cardboard box divided into four spaces. Giant white cups took up three of the notches; a grease-stained bag was balanced on top of the fourth. Ben opened the door and followed his father-in-law and father back into the waiting room.
Jake placed the overstuffed box on one of the side tables, then pecked Ben’s mother’s cheek and shook hands with the Judge.
“I am sorry that you must go through this terrible time, Jake,” the Judge said. “Whatever you need, we’re here.”
“Sure, sure. Sorry I didn’t know you were here. I’ll go back and get you both a coffee. Wait. No. Frances, you take mine.”
“We’re fine.” Ben’s mother pressed her hand to her chest—the nervous gesture familiar. “We already reached our limit.”
Anne lifted the cups from the cardboard box. “You didn’t go to the cafeteria?”
“I know you like the Dunkin’s. I figured you’d want a bagel, even if it was from there. I brought Ben an egg-and-cheese.” He turned to his son-in-law. “You didn’t eat last night, right?”
“Thanks, but I’m not really hungry.”
He was famished.
Anne ripped open the bag and made a flat paper surface for the food. “Eat.” She put three napkins under the egg sandwich and brought it to Ben. “I’ll get your coffee.”
“He can get his own coffee, Anne.” Jake reached over and grabbed a cup, ripping the lid off with a pop. Anne placed a coffee next to Ben.
Gloom regained control of the room. Anne
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