"And if they don't? If you end up with assault on your permanent record? How do we ever get a place together someday if landlords won't rent to you? How do you visit me here at Rosalyn's house when she has foster kids and you have an assault conviction? The state will never allow it."
"I don't know! I don't have answers. I don't have a plan. I'm just trying to get through each day without falling apart, and I can't think about the future because every time I do, all I see is everything that could possibly go wrong."
My heart physically aches for him. I wish I was there.
"Then let me think about it for you," I say. "Let me carry this one burden so you don't have to. Let me handle this part while you focus on staying sober and working your jobs and pulling yourself together."
"Ivan, I don't know about this."
"This isn't charity. This is me being your partner. This is me saying that your problems are now my problems, and I happen to have the means to help with this particular one, so let me help. Please, I'm begging you."
"I can't pay you back. Not for a long time. Maybe not ever."
"Dammit Jay! I don't care about being paid back. This is not about the money."
"I care. I can't just take fifteen hundred dollars from you and pretend it's nothing. I know how hard you've worked to save it."
"Then don't pretend it's nothing. Call it a loan if that makes you feel better. Pay me back when you can, if you can, whenever that might be. Or don't." I take a breath. "What matters is that you have a fighting chance in that courtroom. What matters is that two weeks from now, you walk into that building with someone competent in your corner. We've got toget out from under this arrest thing, okay? Please tell me you understand this affects both of us if it doesn't go away."
The silence stretches out. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. Forty.
"What's her name again?" Jay asks quietly. "The lawyer you found?"
"Patricia Hendricks. She's expecting your call. She said to call her tomorrow as soon as possible."
"And she really thinks she can help? She thinks this is fixable?"
"She said the charges can probably be reduced to something minor or even dismissed entirely. First offense, self-defense claim, bar fight situation. She said it's very manageable with proper representation."
Another long pause. I hold my breath.
"I'm still mad at you," Jay says finally. "For going behind my back. For making decisions without me."
"I understand. I'm sorry."
"But I don't have a better option, do I?"
"No, you don't. Not really."
He lets out a shaky breath. "Fine. Okay. I'll call her tomorrow. First thing."
"Thank you for trusting me on this."
"Don't thank me yet. I'm still processing how angry I am."
"I know you. You'll be mad for a while, and then you'll realize I was right to do this, and then you'll forgive me." I pause. "Hopefully."
He laughs, a sound that breaks through the tension. "You're a stubborn pain sometimes. You know that?"
"Yeah, and you're being an asshole," I reply.
"But I'm your asshole," he says.
"That sounded way better in your head, didn't it?" I tease.
"Definitely. That came out completely wrong."
We're both laughing now, the tension breaking. It's not fixed. The anger is still there, simmering. But we're talking, we're laughing, and he's going to call the lawyer. That's all that matters.
