Gail Bowen - The Endless Knot

The collision between Sean Barton and Mieka was quick and vicious. She was trying to intercept the pass that he was trying to catch. He leapt in the air, caught the ball, lost his balance, and came down on top of her. Even from halfway across the lawn, I could hear the cartoon sound of the breath being knocked out of her body as she hit the ground with Sean on top of her. It was clearly an accident. By the time I got to my feet, Sean had pushed himself off Mieka and was on his knees with his face close to hers checking to see if she was hurt. Charlie seemed to come out of nowhere. He hurled himself at Sean, wrapping Sean in his arms and legs and screaming at him to get away from Mieka. Sean was at least a head taller than Charlie and fifty pounds heavier, but when he tried to extricate himself from Charlie’s grasp, he couldn’t. Of the players on the field, Pete was the first to see what was happening, and he reacted immediately. He grabbed at Charlie and told him to back off, but Charlie was beyond hearing. Pete hung in there, pulling at Charlie’s arms and speaking to him in the tough, reassuring voice of a football coach dealing with an out-of-control player. “C’mon, buddy, let it go. Let it go. Let it go.” Finally, Charlie did, in fact, let it go. His body – all sinew and rage during the attack – went boneless. He released his grip, stumbled, and then drew himself to his feet. When I saw his face, I was filled with horror.

I had been in the delivery room with Marnie when Charlie was born. He had rocketed into the world two weeks early. It was election night, and Howard was busy consoling the losers and celebrating with the winners. As Marnie’s doctor lifted the newborn into the air, the delivery room fell silent. He was a long, thin baby with a birthmark that made it appear as if half his face and neck had been dipped in blood. Like everyone in the room except Marnie, I struggled against revulsion. Over the years, Marnie had taken him to a dozen doctors, but Charlie’s blood mask stubbornly resisted treatment. We had all grown accustomed to it. The disfigurement – like his wit, his charisma, and his need – had simply been part of the person Charlie was. So that day, as I tried to catch Charlie’s attention, it wasn’t the splash of blood on his skin that shocked me, it was the wildness in his eyes. In that moment, he was a fierce stranger who was capable of anything. The moment passed. He shrugged, apologized to us all, and then extended his hand to Sean.

“Sorry,” he said. “That’ll teach me to skip my meds.”

Sean was gracious. “Hey, with that kind of pit-bull spirit, next time I want you on our team.”

Zack had wheeled over to join us. “Let’s eat,” he said. He turned to Sean and Arden. “I dragged you out here on a holiday weekend, the least we can do is feed you.”

When the others started up to the house, Zack motioned me to stay behind. “Do you think I should tell Sean to get a rabies shot?”

I began folding the blanket the little girls and I had been sitting on. “No. Charlie and my kids have always been very protective of one another,” I said. “Still, that was really stupid.”

“And predictable,” Zack said.

“What do you mean?”

“Have you ever heard of hypermnesia?”

“No.”

“It’s the opposite of amnesia. People who suffer from it can’t forget anything – no matter how painful.”

“It sounds like one of those curses the Greek gods used to hurl around.”

“It is a curse,” Zack said. “I’ve seen it in about a half-dozen clients, and it makes them do crazy things.”

“And you think that’s what was behind Charlie’s outburst.”

Zack shrugged. “It seems a distinct possibility. When he talks about his relationship with his father, he remembers every slight. And his loyalty to your kids – and to you, incidentally – is primal.”

“Primal can be dangerous,” I said.

“And expensive,” Zack said. “That Jaguar you’re so fond of driving was paid for by fees from a man who caught his wife cheating and opted for what my American colleagues call a Colt .45 divorce.”

At lunch, there were two topics of conversation: the trial and Halloween costumes. Madeleine and Lena were dressing up as crayons: Madeleine was purple and Lena was orange. And so in the midst of the tense, revved-up talk of witness lists and opening statements, there were wistful reminiscences about Halloweens past and about going out as ghosts or pirates or witches. When lunch was cleaned away, Zack, Sean, and Arden went back to his cottage to work and the rest of us started loading the cars.

After the last stuffed toy had found a home in Greg and Mieka’s car, Greg went inside to get the girls.

Alone with my daughter, there were a hundred questions I wanted to ask, but I fell back on the host’s question. “All things considered, did you have a good weekend?”

Mieka smiled. “All things considered, it had its moments.” She reached up and, in her invariable nervous gesture, began to pick at her lip. I pulled her hand away.

“I’m thirty-one,” she said. “I should be allowed to disfigure myself.”

Our eyes met. “But you have such a beautiful mouth,” we said in unison, and the tension between us broke.

Her eyes met mine. “You’re not the only one who worries, you know. I worry about you too. Mum, how much do you really know about Zack?”

“Enough to know that I love him,” I said.

“People say things …”

“People used to say things about your father. If you live a public life, people talk. It comes with the territory.”

“But with Dad, you knew that the rumours weren’t true. He had integrity, and you two had this perfect marriage. How can you settle for less?”

“Because what I have with Zack isn’t less. In many ways, it’s more. For one thing, we’re equals – that wasn’t true with your Dad and me.”

Mieka put up her hands. “I don’t want to hear this.”

“Okay,” I said. “Just remember that no marriage is perfect. I loved your father, and I’m glad we stayed together, but it wasn’t always easy.”

“Thus endeth the lesson,” Mieka said, and her voice was heavy with scorn. She shook her head. “Forget I said that. In fact, let’s forget everything we both just said.”

“Good call,” I said. “Come on, let’s go over and say goodbye to everybody.”

Zack, Sean, and Arden were sitting at the partners’ table, wholly engrossed in their talk.

“Sorry to break your concentration,” I said. “But we’re heading out.”

Zack frowned. “You’re not leaving too?”

“I have to get back to the city,” I said. “Taylor has school tomorrow, and I should review a few things with Rapti.”

Zack ran his hand over his head. “Shit, Jo. I blew it, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t blow it. We had a great weekend.”

“But we should have been together more.” He wheeled his chair towards me. “Is there any way you can hang around for a couple of hours?”

Arden and Sean were closing their laptops. “I think we’re going to take off,” Sean said quietly.

Zack nodded approval. “See you at four – we’ll meet in the boardroom. My office …” He read the concern on my face and cut his sentence short.

“Your office looks like a bomb went off in it,” I said.

Zack looked sheepish. “Set myself up for that one, didn’t I? I’ve been trying to steer clear of the subject all weekend.”

I met his gaze. “So have I. Are there any developments there?”

Zack shook his head. “Nope, I talked to the cops this morning. No progress. Norine’s getting together a list of clients who have Looney Tunes potential, and she’s got workers coming in today to start the cleanup. Everything’s taken care of. Time to move along.”