John Casey - Compass Rose

“And what did you see?”

“At first work was work. But after a while I saw they didn’t want to change much. They work hard, but it’s to keep things in order. They’re less corrupt than some of the state politicians because they aren’t desperate. Why should they be? They’re sailing along in a big ship. You know Jack. Half of what he says is like he’s the captain of a big ship.”

“Why didn’t you make partner? Did Jack tell you?”

“Yes. When I worked for one partner or another I was competent at research and writing briefs. The firm’s main income is from two sources — there are corporate clients like Ciba-Geigy or Electric Boat, and there are some rich families. I wasn’t good at attracting clients of either kind. In fact, one of the few clients I took on was some guy in an accident. The insurance company got him to sign a release for peanuts. There were more things wrong with him that they wouldn’t pay for. I won the case, on the grounds that the boilerplate form doesn’t represent an agreement between two parties in equal bargaining positions. The firm doesn’t represent that particular insurance company, so there wasn’t a conflict of interest, but the precedent has been a thorn in the paw for all the insurance companies, and some of them are clients of the firm. When I did it again I guess they thought ‘plaintiff’s attorney,’ the polite way of saying ambulance chaser. Of course, that’s a story that makes me a good guy. David beating Goliath. There were other times when I did an okay job when I should have done a very good job. I have no grievance. And when I was on my way out, Jack suggested to the governor that I could be useful.”

“But Jack’s Republican. A right-wing Republican.”

“Jack knows lots of people. A law firm can’t be attached to one party or the other. Jack’s views are no secret, but he manages to keep on speaking terms with whoever’s in. Sure, he can be … overemphatic.”

“That’s delicate.”

“Okay. He can put his foot in his mouth, but that’s when he’s on his own time. When he’s at work, he focuses. But there’s another thing. He likes to know what’s going on — not for work, just stories. He knows odd things about every corner of the state.”

“That’s because he thinks it’s his.”

He looked up. Out of amusement at first but then a slower satisfaction. She guessed he didn’t spend much time talking like this, certainly not a lot of time talking to women. He looked like someone surprised by a small pleasure, like a woman stroking the sleeve of a silk blouse.

When he finished his coffee and gathered up the folders, she walked him to the door. As he put his overcoat on she had an impulse to touch his back. She resisted it — he had enough to think about. He shrugged to settle the collar, turned around, and said, “You’re okay, are you?”

“Oh, yes. That was just … I’m fine.”

“So I’ll be in touch.” He tipped his head at his briefcase. He put his hand in his overcoat pocket. She read the lift of his face.

“Your pipe,” she said. “Maybe next time. I’m afraid I have to let you go now.”

After he left she suddenly didn’t know what to make of it. Had she embarrassed herself? Or had she had the pleasure of pleasing? She’d certainly gone into female display — in fact, several variations of it. She puffed her cheeks and popped a breath out. Now all she was was tired.

She slogged up her driveway, checked on Rose, paid Nancy Tran, and waited up for Mary, the comfort of telling Mary.

When Elsie was done, Mary said, “Aw, go on. You’re awful hard on yourself. By tomorrow Miss Perry will be all apologies. And so what if you busted out crying in front of the lawyer?” Mary laughed. “Were you still sniffling when you said, ‘I’ve never cried in uniform’? I’ll bet that charmed the socks off him.”

Phoebe was now taking her lunch hour with May once or twice a week. May liked this arrangement, especially now that Phoebe worked her way through her own complaints more quickly and cheerfully. There was Eddie’s roughneck son, Walt, but the bright side was that Eddie was beginning to notice Walt’s erratic comings and goings. There was that awful rent increase, but Phoebe was making more money. “Eddie and I are really a very good team. You remember you asked me about that strange glow you’ve been seeing over at Sawtooth? It’s an inflatable cover for a lighted tennis court. Jack Aldrich put it up because the tennis players wanted it, but then he saw it at night and he said it looked like a giant sea slug. So he called Eddie, and Eddie and I went over there to meet with Jack and Mr. Salviatti.

“Somehow it came up that Mr. Salviatti has relatives in Westerly, and I said, ‘Oh, where they make those beautiful statues.’ I happened to have seen an exhibit at RISD. I gushed about them. Especially the angel statues, and it turns out they were loaned by guess who. He invited me to come see them again — they’re in his garden. So that got us off on the right foot. And then Eddie was good with Jack. The problem with the inflatable thing is that it’s a great success. It’s booked every night. Now that it’s fall a lot of people can only play after work, and Jack doesn’t want to shut it down while we build something that’s not so ugly. He’s making an awful lot of money. As I well know, and I only play twice a week. Anyway, Eddie walked around the outside and said he could put up a building around it. Something that would look like a traditional barn. Mr. Salviatti thought that was fine. Jack, who had asked us to come, was the naysayer at first. He said a barn would get too hot during the summer and it would cost a fortune to air-condition. At least he could deflate the inflatable thing and have an extra outdoor court. Eddie said that the lights would bother the cottage owners. A barn would keep the light inside. As for the heat, we could put two ventilation towers on it, same as a barn. He said, ‘That way the sea breeze’ll suck the hot air right out the top. No sense in paying for something that nature’ll do for free.’ So then we went inside and there was Elsie Buttrick all by herself batting back balls — there’s this machine that shoots them out. Jack called out, ‘Ahoy, there, Elsie! Can’t find anyone to play with?’ She ignored him, hit another ball, but then the machine was out of balls so she came over, probably to say hello to Eddie; she’s very fond of Eddie. But Jack said, ‘I hear you and Johnny Bienvenue hit it off.’ As if we weren’t there or as if we don’t matter, as if Eddie and I don’t know … Then Jack said, ‘I knew you’d get along. Diamond in the rough. I’m thinking of making him a member. He said he doesn’t play tennis, so I gave him a three-month guest card, told him he should learn, get his game up to a weekend level. It’d be nice if you took him under your wing. Fun for both of you.’ Elsie looked very uncomfortable. My guess is that it wasn’t just from Jack’s bossing her around. I have a sixth sense, and I think she already has her eye on this fellow as a new beau. I thought that might ease your mind.”

No. It didn’t ease her mind. No, she shouldn’t have told Phoebe if Phoebe was going to make it her business. And no to Elsie. Elsie should know to keep to herself, not go prancing around as if she was free as air, as if she could flit back to Sawtooth Point as if nothing had happened. Elsie was the mother of Dick’s daughter; that baby was Charlie and Tom’s sister. If there wasn’t a baby, she and Elsie could have been ghosts to each other, but there was no pretending away flesh and blood.

“Oh, May,” Phoebe said. “I honestly thought … But okay. Let’s forget that part. The part that’s good is there Eddie and I were with two of the men who pretty much run things, and Eddie fit right in. I mean, he was himself but the best part of himself. He really does love to think of ways to fix things. At first I thought it just might be little things, but he turned to Mr. Salviatti and asked what was under the tennis court — all that about gravel and frost and soil compression. Just a friendly chat about what most people don’t stop to consider. I was really proud of Eddie. And when Jack said, ‘Can you get it done before winter?’ Eddie said, ‘Depends on two things. The weather’s one. The other’s what Phoebe can work out with her schedule. She’s the manager.’ After all the snubs I’ve had — and it’s not just Miss Perry; Jack Aldrich looks at my legs but can’t be bothered to remember my name — I felt validated.”