My phone buzzes in the middle of the meeting. Since my wife’s texts are the only exception to the “do not disturb” mode—I’m not ever repeating the situation where somebody answers her texts behind my back—I glance at the screen.
–Grace: Thank you! They’re so lovely! :smiling-emoji:
I smile.
–Me: Happy first day back at work.
I turn my attention back to the presentation. “That pink isn’t quite right. You want something lighter and softer, but not overly pastel. A hint of pearlescent, and the music should be at a slightly faster tempo to give it a more energetic feel. Otherwise, it’s too lethargic. I’d fall asleep.”
Chuck takes notes, his pencil scratching the yellow legal pad he carries everywhere.
“Any questions or concerns?” I say.
“Nope.” Chuck and the others shake their heads. They’re in charge of the vodka popsicle campaign. Ah, the fun things we push. They’re too sweet for my taste, but they provide a good kick, perfect for a hot summer day or night when you need a little break.
“Great job, everyone.” I leave the meeting, checking the time. Grace said she’d come to the 4D office, and I want to pick her up and take her to the new French restaurant that opened last month. It’s getting great reviews, which say it has the best chocolate lava cake in the city. It would be hilarious to ask the server to bring it with celery sticks. Whatever expression she makes is going to be cute, I think with a smile.
An elevator opens with a soft chime. Just as I’m about to step in, Nelson jumps out and grabs my arm. “You!”
My face twists with disgust. “What are you doing here?”
A slightly wrinkled suit hangs on his frame. His cheeks have sunken a bit more since the last time I saw him. Dark circles take up half his face, and there are new lines ravaging his forehead and cheeks. “You have to stop them.”
Them?
“Everyone at the firm’s out to get me.”
“The firm. You mean Huxley & Webber—which I’m not a part of.”
“Come on! They’re only after me because of you! They’re trying to force me out.”
I fake a shocked gasp. “And Andreas won’t save you? Or how about your brother Bill? Aren’t you two close?”
Resentment seethes in Nelson’s gaze. “They aren’t doing shit for me. They’re too busy covering their own asses.”
“You mean they won’t shield your immoral behavior.” I shoot him a look full of contempt. “I’ll never forgive you for depriving Grace the opportunity to get the closure she deserved with her mother. Scattering the ashes around Baltimore… What kind of dick does that? No matter how you felt about the woman, she was the mother of your child. She deserved better. So did Grace.”
“Wait, wait! If I give you the urn with her ashes, will you help me?”
“What?”
“Look, Huxley. Son.” He puts his hands on my shoulders with the most paternal expression he can muster. “There’s been a misunderstanding, I’m afraid.”
I arch an eyebrow. This is going to be good.
“Nobody scattered the ashes, oh no. They were merelymisplaced, but thankfully found.”
My ass, they were misplaced.“Then why didn’t you and your wife give them to Grace?”
“Well.” Nelson licks his lips. “I thought it might be too distressing for her. I mean… She’s always been a competitive child. She might have felt upset or thought it unfair that she didn’t have a mom when Viv and Mick did. But if you can make my, ah, work issues go away, perhaps we can arrange for the ashes to be transferred to her. I’d hate to deprive her of a chance to properly grieve and say goodbye. Everyone needs closure, after all.”
Does he think I’m stupid? He kept the ashes—assuming they really are Grace’s mother’s ashes, and not something he scooped out of someone’s fireplace—as insurance in case Grace found out the truth and wouldn’t stay quiet. I really should’ve shoved hisface into the wall more than twice. “How do I know the ashes are really her mother? It isn’t like we can run a DNA test.”
“A perfectly logical question.” He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out some paper. “This is proof of the chain of custody for Winona’s ashes. I hired another lawyer to do it, so you know I’m not lying.”
I look it over. Nelson has been very thorough. Guess he was more worried than he let on about Grace’s reaction to her mother’s death. “Why don’t we call it even after you hand me the ashes and ask for forgiveness? That’s the least of what you owe.”
The tension in his face eases for the first time since he exited the elevator.He thinks the deal is done.“Must we assign blame and fault? Wearefamily.”
