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"Over there," Frank says, pointing about twenty yards in front of us, as dad and I follow him on the windy trail through the park.
The three of us sit down on a weathered and cracked bench, its end grain filled with growth rings and splits. The wood has a dull, almost ashen sheen to it. At nighttime, with minimal lamps in this park to illuminate it, it would be hard to distinguish the bench from the rest of the darkness.
Frank leans forward, causing the aged wood to creak and my weight to shift as I look down and see two of the legs missing a bolt, causing the bench to lean slightly.
"Let's cut to the chase. Why are the two of you really in town?"
Dad swallows hard and begins. "I'm not sure where to begin, Frank." Still not ready to let everything he's been keeping close to his chest off he takes in a deep breath and then blows it out again, readying himself to try again. "About a month ago, I got a call out of the blue. It was from a lawyer. I hadn't heard from him since he had been appointed to Fiona's wrongful death case a decade before that. I was quite surprised to hear from him."
Frank cocks his head. "Interesting. What did he want?"
My father takes yet another deep breath and exhales slowly. "He wanted to meet me. He told me he had some information about the case that would be valuable to me, but he didn't feel comfortable meeting with me unless I came here to Miami to meet him, alone."
"So you came," Frank states after dad takes a moment to gather himself.
Dad nods. "But I didn't want to get my hopes up. I was afraid I was setting myself up for another bullshit tease."
I shift my weight again in the chair and bite my cheek. Dad's getting good at putting on the hard face, but he can't hide the pain and the emotion behind it. Our relationship is still strained, but at least he's opening up to me a little now. Maybe our time apart in New York did help when he disappeared for days on end and drank himself into oblivion after mom's death. Maybe he realized that he needed to let me in as I had let him in. Hopefully, time heals all wounds, or at least makes them easier to bear.
"I took him up on his offer," he continues. "He told me to wait in some hotel lobby and that he would meet me there. I did. And he did. We met in the lobby of the Delano and he told me that he had information that would help me sue the city of Miami for the wrongful death of Fiona, in exchange for a healthy cash payout. But he couldn't give me any details about it. He immediately asked me to give him a cash retainer. Thirty grand, which is literally all I have to my name. It's almost as if he knew exactly what I was worth to the penny, but trading thirty large for a much larger payday, and some restitution for what happened to my wife...it was worth a shot." My dad's eyes start to water, but he continues.
"He said if I was interested, then I should hand it over to him and he would email me the information. I did, and I waited a week. Nothing came. So I called him back. He apologized, said he had had some sudden family issues but he was ready to help out now. He told me I need to come up with another five grand. I was really starting to get pissed at this point. And then he started to tell me how his plan was going to work. He kept saying he was going to hand a contract he had with the city the money and that person would guarantee a big settlement, because of the position they held. They'd pressure the local city officials, reminding them there's no way they’d want to absorb all the bad press they would inevitably get from the wrongful death of a pregnant woman. He said there was no way the city would be able to pass on it."
Frank leans back on the bench, trying to absorb all of the information my dad just dropped on him.
"But you've resorted to a life of crime in the meantime?"
"Life of crime?" Dad shoots him a dirty look. "What the fuck are you talking about?"
Frank swallows hard and then looks into the distance before looking over at me. My nostrils are flared as I grit my teeth, daring him to tell my dad he caught me out the other night.
"I mean to get the five thousand? You said the thirty was all you had."
"I took out a loan," I pipe up.
"You? You're only eighteen. What collateral did you have?"
"New credit card offers and balance transfers. They give you blank checks. If you contact enough of them you can eventually work your way to the five k."
Frank nods. "So where does that leave us?"
"Leave us?" Dad asks in astonishment. "We're just here to do what we need to do and hopefully spend some time with you. We have been best friends for all these years. I mean...I did kinda fall off the face of the earth after Fiona's death, but I never stopped thinking about you two."
Tears well in my dad's eyes as he looks at me. I can see the pain and regret in them, but I also see the hope that we can finally start to heal our wounds together. Reaching over I put my hand on dads.
Frank looks at us both, his eyes full of confusion and hurt. But he can't stay angry with us for long. He and my dad have been through too much together.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me," Frank says. "I could have helped out and a part of me is so angry that you kept this from me. But I know why you did it too. You didn't want to worry me."
"No, I wanted to protect you, and not get a cop involved in something potentially sketchy that might risk his job," my dad says firmly
Frank says, "I promise, things are going to be different now. We're going to stick together and make sure nothing like this ever happens again." He pauses before continuing. "I'm glad you guys are here," he says softly. "And I'm sorry that I was so blind. You didn't deserve to be left in the dark like that. The truth is finally coming out. And we'll deal with it together. I'll help you," he says firmly. "Let's work on this together and get justice for Fiona once and for all."
"Amen," Dad says, and we all come together for a hug.
But does Frank really know what he's getting himself into and when do I tell him?
