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I called Carly to thank her, and she said it wasn’t her that referred that law firm. She said she’d ask Aiden, said she hadn’t even thought of it like that but that technically I am employed by Carmichael Consulting and not just Austin Carmichael as I had been when I worked for just Aiden, so it made sense that I got access to legal resources.
She texted me a half an hour later to tell me it wasn’t Aiden that did it.
That leaves Austin.
I had a lengthy argument with myself about whether or not I should say something to him.
I decided not to.
The same day, I also got a strange call from a Dr. Lexington telling me she’d gotten a referral to Shane’s case from a lawyer. She said if her application to the courts is successful, Shane could be moved to the facility she’s at and put under a program she helps run.
This doctor spent over half an hour on the phone asking questions about him and explaining that this pilot project is at a mental health center and the application’s success could mean customized help for Shane in a hospital instead of a prison. She sounds like she knows what she’s talking about and actually gives a damn. I gave her the name of the doctor and clinic Shane was working with and having okay results with so that she can confer.
It’s like a weight is off my shoulders. Not the entire weight, but some of it.
Then the lawyer sent me an email today to tell me I qualify for ten thousand dollars’ worth of hours with his firm and that he will do everything he can to try to help me within that amount of money so that it doesn’t cost me anything over that. I told him I won’t have anything over that to spend and he says that if I want to go back to legal aid at that point, most of the work will be done. I should sign up immediately.
He sent me an email with the ten-thousand-dollar voucher. Reading the fine print; I had concerns, so I called him back.
“I’m a temporary employee. I’ll only be working for them for three months and I’m worried you won’t get paid because-”
“They’ve approved it.”
“I should make sure it’s not an oversight.”
“Feel free to do that.”
Against my better judgement, I text Austin.
Me: Hi. I got contacted about the EAP for legal advice for Carmichael Consulting employees. Do I qualify for that?
Austin: Yes, you do.
Me: They’re trying to tell me I get 10K worth of legal services that I can use for my brother. I’m a temp employee. Surely that’s wrong.
Austin: It’s not. I approved it. Don’t worry about it. Those lawyers are on retainer. Use them. Get your brother the help he needs.
Me: Why are you doing this?
Austin: Can’t chat right now. Headed into a meeting.
I bite my lip in contemplation and then I respond to the email from the lawyer and tell them I’ll happily use their services. The lawyer calls promptly to tell he’ll get in to see Shane as soon as possible. I tell him about the call from Dr. Lexington and he says he’ll liaise with her and do what he can to expedite Shane being moved to her facility.
An hour later, the lawyer emails and tells me not to get my hopes up but there’s a possibility that Shane will get a plea deal and be able to serve that deal at Dr. Lexington’s hospital instead of in prison.
I tell myself not to hope but I break down in tears of relief anyway.
***
The Next Evening
I come back from my writing workshop after coffee with Raven and Andrew. I walk into my father’s house and find him face down on the living room floor. Shakily, I call 9-1-1.
But it’s too late. My father is gone.
50
Austin
My phone rings while I’m getting ready for work.
Jada calling.
She’s up early.
I answer it.
“Hey.”
“I’m sorry but I can’t work today.”
“Okay,” I say.
The kitchen is full of food and the apartment is clean, so I’m perplexed with why she’s calling to say this, especially this early.
She holds the phone, not saying anything.
Something’s not right.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Jada?” I prod after a long beat.
It takes almost a full minute for her to speak.
“My father had what they think was a massive stroke last night. He’s… gone.”
Fuck.
“Where are you?”
“In his house. I have to… I have to make arrangements, and I don’t know how long it’ll all take for everything, so-”
“I’m coming over.”
“Oh. Uh, no, don’t. It’s okay, I…”
“I’m on my way.” I hang up.
***
When I pull into the driveway with the rental car, she appears on the porch looking confused.
“I rented it. You’re gonna need to do a bunch of running around,” I say, answering her unspoken question.
She doesn’t just look confused, she looks wrecked.
