C Box - Three Weeks to Say Goodbye

I wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Will Garrett connect Cody to us?” she asked. “Does he know Cody is our friend? Will he blame us for what happened?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it depends on whether Cody said anything to them or just started pounding on Luis.”

“I’d bet he said something.”

“We can ask him tomorrow-if he even remembers.”

“Oh, Jack, it’s gone from bad to worse.”

I nodded even though she couldn’t see me in the dark. She sidled over under the covers and put her warm palm on my chest.

“You showered again,” she said. “Why?”

“I felt dirty, I guess.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost three.”

“Are you going to work tomorrow?”

“I’ve got to.”

She put her head on my shoulder. Her hair smelled nice. “I wish you could just stay home. We could have a snow day- just our family.”

“And Cody,” I reminded her.

“And Cody.” She laughed gently.

I glanced out the window. The snow had lightened considerably.

“We could just stay home and be a family,” she said, repeating herself.

I kissed her on the mouth. She kissed back, but broke it off.

“Not that,” she said, “not now. I just want to be held, that’s all.”

I held her.

We could hear Angelina stir and cry out over the baby monitor. Melissa was instantly alert, and she ducked under my arm and swung her bare legs out of bed.

“What?”

“She’s having a bad dream,” Melissa said, standing and pulling on her robe. “She’s been having them since the Morelands showed up on Sunday. I don’t know whether she’s sensing something from me or what. I’m going to get her.”

Melissa left, and I heard Angelina whimper and the sound broke my heart. Over the monitor, I could hear the springs of the crib mattress squeak as Melissa picked her up and cooed at her.

“I think I’ll let her sleep with us for a while,” Melissa whispered as she came back in the bedroom. I made room, and Melissa lowered Angelina between us. The baby was still sleeping. In the ambient light from the window she looked peaceful and content. Her long lashes were exquisite, and her little rosebud mouth formed a pleasant smile. Her breath was slight, little puffs of sweet air. I brushed her round warm cheek lightly with the backs of my fingers. So soft. She was just so small.

“Don’t roll over and crush her,” Melissa said.

I was always scared about that, and I edged farther away.

“We’ve got three weeks,” she said. “And you’ll be gone one of them.”

“I’ll be back sooner than that,” I said. “I’ll be back as soon as I have that meeting with Malcolm Harris.”

“Still…”

“I’m more optimistic,” I said, “after what you and Brian found out to night. The judge and his son aren’t so all-perfect and all-powerful after all.”

“I was talking with Cody about that while you and Brian were out,” Melissa said. “He might have just been out of it, but he wasn’t very encouraging.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, alarmed.

“I told him what we’d found out, and he just shook his head, and said, ‘ Third-party gossip shit. None of it would work in court. ’ ” She tried to imitate his particular sarcastic cadence of speech.

“But we’re just getting started,” I said. “We still need to prove everything.”

“What if we can’t?” she said. “Rumors are cheap. It’s different when we try to prove these things.”

“We don’t have to prove that Moreland’s parents and wife died mysteriously,” I said.

“But it’s nothing, really, when you think about it. The judge was never charged or even suspected of anything as far as we know. And Garrett just comes across as a moody teenager. What’s so strange about that?”

“Cody said this?” I asked, getting angry.

“No,” she said. “I was thinking about it. He’s right. We don’t have anything but a bunch of rumors. We can’t go up against a powerful judge and his son with just a pack of stories. Somehow, we have to prove something-anything.”

The minutes ticked by. The more I thought about it, the more I realized she was right. The last vestiges of the hope I’d had earlier skulked out of the room as if ashamed.

“Honey,” I said, “there is no point getting a lawyer and going to court. We may find out something about them, but now Garrett has an attempted murder on us .”

She sighed. “Maybe Brian can find out something more solid. He said he’d dig deeper.”

It was as if she didn’t hear what I’d just said.

She said, “And I can follow up on the school incidents, but all we’ve got right now is what a counselor says she heard from another counselor. If I were a judge I wouldn’t even listen to us.”

“I should have shot the son of a bitch,” I said.

“Jack, don’t say that. If you did, you’d get put into prison. This baby needs a father, and I need a husband.”

Still…

“I HAD A STRANGE THOUGHT,” Melissa said after a while. “Luis was somebody’s baby. And Garrett was a baby once, too.”

“It is a strange thought,” I said.

“Jack, I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too.”

“What’s going to happen now?” she said.

“I don’t know.”

“We’ve got to protect this child,” she said.

“Yes.”

“You were brave to night.”

I liked hearing that because I never thought of myself as particularly brave. I wanted her to think of me as a man of courage, and I vowed not to give her a reason to think otherwise. I had never before that moment thought in those terms, although every man, I think, wonders what he’d do when it comes down to a fight-or-flight decision.

“I’m going to leave you two alone,” I said, getting out of bed. “I’m still too wired to sleep. I’ll be back. I’ll try not to wake you up when I come in.”

Melissa was already falling asleep, an arm stretched lightly over Angelina. At the doorway I stopped and looked back. My wife and my daughter in my bed, both breathing softly.

I KEPT THE LIGHTS OFF in the family room and turned on the television. Since our remote had been stolen and ruined, I’d learned where to power it up on the set itself. It was tuned to CNN. I was too lazy and disinterested to surf through more channels using the buttons on the set and I sat down in my chair. The light from the set flickered on Cody under the blanket on the couch. Periodically, he would make me jump with thunderous flatulence or a racking snort. I could smell old bourbon in the room, as if it were seeping through his skin. I smiled as I contrasted Angelina and Cody, and wondered what it was about age that made the odors so much worse.

Over the news anchor’s shoulder on the screen were the graphics MONSTER OF DESOLATION CANYON and the booking photo of Aubrey Coates. They cut away to a local correspondent named Erin somebody doing a standup in front of the court-house hours earlier as the snow began to fall.

“The case against Aubrey Coates was dealt a major blow today in the Denver courtroom of Judge John Moreland,” the attractive dark-haired lady said, “when…”

I half watched, half listened. Cody was shown stomping out of the courtroom, snarling at the camera. I couldn’t help but glance over at his broad back on the couch.

The segment ended as the reporter said, “I’d bet you a bag of donuts that unless the prosecutors have something powerful and unexpected up their sleeves, Aubrey Coates is going to walk. Back to you, Anderson.”

Anderson said, “That was recorded earlier to night. And Erin, a bag of glazed donuts will be just fine.”

“ Motherfucker …” Cody growled in his sleep, tossing about violently.