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“The Christmas blazer. Are they going to have to pry it out of your cold, dead hands?”
She laughs, shrugs, and chews her bottom lip. “Maybe. I was thinking, if they wanted us to, we could come back next year? And that way, the blazer can stay in my closet, where it belongs.”
To allow myself to think of next year cracks open a rock in my chest. And what about all the time in between? I’d go to meetings with her every week. Plus, I’d be working next to where she works and lives? It sounds good. Very good.
“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but yeah. I could do next year.”
“You can’t believe you’d want to be my co-host again?” Aria asks in mock dismay. “It about killed you, didn’t it?”
I swirl a fry in smoky ketchup. “Yes. And I’d only agree to co-host again so I can wear the breeches.”
She tilts her head back in a laugh then grows serious. “You liked doing this with me. I know you did.”
“I did. I do.” My gaze darts down to her mouth, but I quickly go back to looking her in the eye. She has to understand that I’m completely gone for her, and it’s about a lot more than the kissing.
She breaks my gaze. “So, I was thinking about talking to the committee and Santa’s Helpers about adding the Fleming family to the charity recipient list.”
“Wasn’t that list finalized weeks ago?”
“Yeah, but they’re in dire need. Elijah doesn’t deserve this.”
I don’t say anything for a while, fighting with myself about how to respond. “I see parts of myself in Elijah. I’d love to help the family somehow. I can’t do that until the judge has heard the case.” I massage my temples and groan. “I don’t like practicing criminal law.”
“Hopefully you can keep Marty out of prison and they can rebuild, you know? Work on healing their marriage. If he goes to prison for this?” Aria frowns. “You can’t let that happen to this poor family.”
“I can’t let that happen? Unfortunately, I’m not the judge.”
“Right. But you have a lot of influence.” She sets her burger back down without taking her next bite.
“I don’t have much experience with this. Weatherby’s helping me along, but this is out of my comfort zone. I’ll do my best, but getting him out of serving a prison sentence? Is that really the best thing for him?”
“He didn’t spend any of the money, Theo.” She’s stirring her ice water with her straw, staring at it. “Not a penny of it. He was putting it back. He’s already served jailtime.” She stares at me. “Why should he go to prison?”
I shift in the booth and rest my arm along the back rest. “I don’t make the laws, Aria. He stole money. A lot of money. Just because he suddenly grew a conscience doesn’t mean there shouldn’t be some consequences for his actions.”
“So you’re not going to ask the judge for leniency, even after all the evidence points to a man who deserves it?” She moves the water cup off to the side, one less thing in between us. “Has he ever stolen anything before, Theo?”
I discharge a grunted breath. “Marty’s maybe never gotten caught for stealing prior to this, but he has a criminal record. Possession, Aria. It was a long time ago, but the judge is going to take one look at that and make up his mind right then and there.”
She pulls tightly on her thick paper napkin, smoothing it on the table with force. “Sounds like you’re the one who’s done that. Made up your mind.” She balls up the napkin. “You’re a generous guy. A nice guy. You have a chance to make a difference in this family’s lives, but you’re not going to try?”
“What’s of most benefit to them in the long run? I can offer the judge a plea deal. Then Marty serves time for his crime, gets off on probation, and justice is served, then the family can be reunited. If the judge decides to let him off scot-free? Well, then great. But I’m not going to make that decision for him.”
“This feels personal, Theo.” She leans forward and digs her pointer finger against the tabletop. “I don’t understand why.”
I stare at my food, not wanting it anymore. “I don’t tolerate fathers who abandon their families. It’s an epidemic, Aria. And I’m not going to advocate that this father get a slap on the wrist for bailing when things got hard.”
Her eyes soften in confusion. “This isn’t about bailing when things got hard.” Now her voice is louder. “This is a criminal case. It’s not your place to be thinking of him in that context.” She swallows hard, her eyes wide. “Maybe you should tell Weatherby to assign someone else to it.”
That’s what I would prefer but it’s too late for that. Besides, I have to do whatever Weatherby asks of me. “I don’t want to advocate for Marty.” At the sound of her protest, I continue. “I know I have to. It’s my job. And seeing how this has affected Elijah makes me sad.”
She blinks rapidly, staring at her Styrofoam plate.
“I think your judgment has been clouded by your past experiences,” she says. “What your dad did, abandoning your family, was completely unacceptable, and I’m so sorry he did that and that you’ve had to spend your life trying to heal from that.”
I feel my chin rise without my permission. “It sucked big time. But I got over it a long time ago.”
Aria doesn’t look convinced.
