“I’m doing okay. I’m tired, though.”
“Didn’t sleep much?”
“No. Not much. It was three in the morning before I started to feel tired. I took a small nap on the couch this morning.”
“Did you eat anything?”
“I did. I had some toast and pancakes. I needed something bland but heavy enough to take the pain pill,” I admitted.
“Where are you feeling the most pain?”
This could have two answers. I felt the most pain in my chest where Elise had torn my heart out, beat it to death, then shoved it back into my chest. Figuratively speaking.
“My lower back and sometimes my right side when I take a deep breath or cough.”
“Brandon mentioned that you didn’t eat much last night.”
Excellent lead-in to a different topic.
“How is Brandon?” I asked as the rain gently tapped the windshield.
“Brandon is doing fine. Joshua is there, and they’re going to watch the baseball game.”
“Is his level of panic lessening around rain and the ocean?” I asked after James pulled into the parking garage for the attorney’s office.
“Sometimes he stumbles, and we take a step back, but he’s continually making progress.”
“That’s good. Do you think he’ll ever get into the ocean in your backyard?” I asked.
“Good question. And one that I don’t have the answer for, and Brandon doesn’t either. It’s a deep-rooted fear. We’ll see if time has an answer.”
My knees nervously bounced as I sat beside James in the waiting room. James moved his leg closer and leaned it against my leg. It had the desired effect because I stopped bouncing my knees. When the office door opened, I stood along with James.
“Afternoon, Andrew,” Michael greeted me and then looked at James.
“Michael, this is my friend James. I brought him along in case I miss info.”
“I understand. It is a lot to take in. Nice to meet you, James. Please come in, guys.”
James and I took seats in front of Michael’s desk as he shut the office door. Michael sat behind the desk, and as he reached for a manila file folder, he asked, “How are you healing, Andrew?”
“I’m healing up well,” I replied and left it at that. “Thanks for asking,” I added when the manners part of my brain kicked in. Mom and Dad had taught us to have manners. I suddenly felt really guilty for not having told my dad very much about what was going on. I didn’t want him to worry or contribute to his depression.
“Good. I’m glad to hear,” Michael commented and opened the file folder. He put on some reading glasses and then skimmed the top page in front of him. “Okay, so as you’re aware, Elise had her arraignment last week.”
“Yes.” I nodded.
“She has a clever defense attorney.” Michael leaned back in the chair and folded his hands over his stomach.
She has a clever defense attorney. What did that mean exactly? Was something really bad coming?
“Can you elaborate for us, Michael?” James asked. He must have either been confused too, or he sensed my confusion.
“In many criminal defense cases, the outcome is based less on truth and more on how good the attorney is.”
I’d seen it a million times in movies and read it in books. The guilty would get off because they had some fancy attorney. Elise had money too.
Was this all a terrible mistake by reporting it? Would it not have mattered anyhow? I’d been living in hell, stressed and full of worry, and it might not even matter.
