“Did you see her today? She have the nerve to show up?”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, Rach. She was there. It’s fine, and in six months I’ll be free again. All done.” He drank down his beer, then flopped on the couch, picked up the remote, and switched on the TV, looking for the Yankees game.
“Was it awful?”
His stomach clenched at the concern in her voice. He so didn’t want his little sister worried about him. “Rach, I’m thirty-two years old. I can handle it. I never should’ve married her. You were right.”
Rachel, finishing up her PhD in child psychology, had the grace not to tell himI told you so.
“So listen to me now. Don’t rush back into the dating scene again. I think you need your friends and family more than anything.”
“Don’t worry, honey. The last thing on my mind is getting involved with another woman. I’ll see you at Nana’s this weekend though, right?” They always went together to visit their grandmother every Sunday. When he was a junior and Rachel had started college, their parents were killed in a head-on collision by a drunken truck driver on the New York State Thruway. Their grandmother had taken care of them from that day forward. Even though she was now well over eighty years old, her fiercely independent nature only allowed them to do the littlest things for her. But they never missed a Sunday visit. Another thing Jackie had complained about having to do with him.
“Of course. Love you, D.”
“Love you too, Rachey.” He clicked off and was about to settle in to watch Jeter take his turn at bat when his doorbell rang. Sighing, he knew this would be the beginning of a long night of companionship with his buddies, whether he wanted it or not.
Standing at the door were his two best friends. One had two boxes of pizzas from Grimaldi’s. Another had bags that smelled like meatball heroes from their favorite place in Carroll Gardens, resting on top of a case of beer.
“Holy shit, guys. There’s only the three of us.” He gestured them inside, and Mike, the one holding the sandwiches and case of beer, made a beeline for the kitchen.
“Listen, D, we were so happy you were finally getting rid of that cheating bitch, we didn’t know what to do first.” Mike shoved the case of beer into the fridge alongside the bottles already there. “But beer, pizza, and heroes work, right?” He flashed a grin.
“Thanks, man.” Drew grabbed him around the neck for a quick hug, speaking into his good ear. Mike Levin had lost almost all the hearing in his left ear after being wounded during his tour in Iraq.
Drew cast a fond glance at Jordan, busy opening pizza boxes and arranging the heroes on foam plates. They’d been best friends all their lives, ever since their moms met at the playground when they were babies. They’d stuck through everything together, his disastrous marriage, Mike almost getting killed in Iraq and his long road to recovery, and Jordan’s coming out.
“Thanks to you guys for being there for me. It actually went a lot easier than I thought. Yeah, she was there with her father, of course, but my lawyer and hers are really good friends so they worked it out. Six months from today I’ll be a free man, and now I can concentrate on getting the clinic off the ground.”
They all gathered their food and sat on either the sofa or the floor. After watching the Yankees kick the Red Sox’s asses for a while, Drew muted the set. “So you guys are all still on board with me, right? It’s going to make such a big difference in these kids’ lives, knowing that they can get the medical and dental care for all the issues they face.”
Jordan chewed the last of his pizza and then took a drink of his beer. “Are we dealing with mostly teens, D? And you said many of them are gay?” Jordan Peterson was a premier orthopedic surgeon in the city. He and his partner, Keith Hart, an NYPD detective, spent many hours at local LGBT programs helping teens with bullying issues, as well as other family problems. Jordan’s parents had never been anything less than fully supportive of their son and welcomed his partner Keith like another one of their children. Keith’s parents, devout, Bible Belt Christians, had cut him off when he’d told them he was gay. He’d neither seen nor spoken to them in years.
“Teens, young adults, I think that’s why they’re getting abused. Either at school or at home, they are bearing the brunt of someone’s anger and abuse. Rachel said she’ll come by and talk to any of the kids who want to, giving them a way to ask for help if they need it.”
“And I have the mobile dental clinic ready to help with chipped and broken teeth, as well as crowns and bridges,” said Mike. “Whatever they need. D-man, this is a great thing you’re doing.
Drew popped some chips in his mouth. “I’ll never forget the show I saw on cable about kids who lived in foster care in this one home, and instead of being taken care of by their foster parents, they were made to work almost like slaves.”
He glanced at the food he’d left on his plate, remembering how one boy interviewed said he’d sometimes only been fed bread and water for days at a time. But that had been the least of the boy’s problems. “Many of them were also sexually abused. It upset me so much I called Rachel and told her this is what I planned on doing with some of my settlement from the lawsuit from our parents’ case.”
“That’s great, man. I feel sorry for these kids, you know? It’s bad enough to have no family and be part of the system.” Jordan stroked Domino, who’d come to lie on his lap. “They should have some kind of legal recourse to get these bastards who abuse them.”
“Jordy, I spoke with Keith, and he said if the kids are willing to make statements, the police department would be more than happy to work toward arresting these bastards.” Drew liked Jordan’s partner. Keith was a blond, blue-eyed giant of a guy, with a wicked sense of humor. The one thing Keith never found funny, however, was the abuse of children—something he constantly came across on his job.
“What’s also really good is that I talked to my lawyer today, Peter Dent? You guys met him.” They both answered with nods. “Well, he and his friend, the lawyer on the other side, have agreed to give legal advice to the clinic and kids on a pro bono basis. That’ll be a huge help to any who want to press charges.”
“Who’s the other lawyer, D?” Jordan had his hands buried in Domino’s fur as he watched the Yankees’ pitcher give up a grand slam home run. “No, goddamn it. You gotta be kidding me. Fucking Sox.”
Drew shook his head in disgust at the television. “Uh, I think his name is Davis? Let me get his card.” He scanned the card Peter had handed him with the man’s cell phone number. “Yeah, it’s Asher Davis.”
Domino meowed loudly in protest as Jordan’s hands dug into his fur. “Shit, ow, sorry, Dom.” He lifted the cat off his lap, extracting the cat’s claws from his thighs, and placed him on the sofa. “Fuck ’Em and Duck ’Em Davis? Oh man, you must be joking.”
Drew looked at him in surprise. “You know him, Jordan?” He’d paid only slight attention to the other lawyer, not recalling anything about the other man which would’ve elicited such a strong reaction from his friend.
Snorting, Jordan accepted another beer from Mike, who sat on the sofa next to the cat. Domino transferred his affection to Mike, stretching his length across Mike’s chest.
Mike groaned. “Man, D, this cat’s getting huge. You gotta stop feeding him.”
