I do.I tell my fatherevery single detail from my argument with Rory over Cameron Foster,to every last thing that went down in that alley, including after Idelivered Rory to Carl, and returned to find Tucker kickingthat motherfucking bastardin the ribs.
My father asks questionafter question, coaching me on what to emphasize and what to omitin future statements or testimony.He gives me alternative thingsto say, and ways to say them.
He wants to meet with Roryat some point, but I'm not sure how to make that happen.I don'twant anyone to know I got my father involved.Not Bits or mymother, because God knows it will only tear open old wounds, andcertainly not Rory, who already suffers from enoughself-recrimination without hearing that I reached out to the fatherI despise just to help her.
I tell him I'll thinkabout it, but as Rory wasn't in the alley at the point in question,I don't really see why he needs to go over her testimony.The onlyrelevant thing he asked me not to mention again is our fight aboutCam, because it implies that I am jealous, and that supportsthat motherfucking bastard'sstory that I beat him up not to protect Rory, but out ofjealousy.
But I can talk to Rorymyself about keeping quiet about our fight, especially since Idoubt she would want to speak of it anyway.
Assuming she and I areeven speaking by then.
Fuck.Everything is sofucked up.I feel emotionally exhausted, completely drained.Andthe day is far from over.
My father's intercombuzzes and Sue's voice reminds him that it's twelve thirty.We'vebeen going at this for over two hours.
"Oh," he says, and thenstarts closing the open folders and piling them neatly."I need toget to Fifth for lunch.I think I have what I need, Sam.I'm goingto review everything again, and then make some calls, and thenwe'll touch base."He stands up, dismissing me, and it's a bitstartling.One moment we're deep in it, and the next, he's usheringme out.
I feel unfinished.Wehaven't really resolved anything, and I got a call from DetectiveKaranek down in Miami that there's going to be a hearing in a fewweeks.
"Mitch-"
But he cuts me off,anticipating my concern."We'll be ready for the motion hearing,Sam, okay?I expect to have the motion emailed to me by the end ofthe day, and we'll take it from there.Once we know their argument,we can come up with a game plan."
I exhale my worry.Hecan't let them dismiss the charges.We can't.I nod.
He walks out with me toreception, and Sue stands with giant grin plastered across herface, but it falters as soon as she gets a good look atme.
"Jesus, boy, you look likeyou've been through the ringer!What'd you do to our boy,Mitchell?"Sue exclaims.
With that, my father rollshis eyes, and I exhale deeply, composing myself.
"You mind your business,nosy wench," he teases her, and she shakes her head.
"Right, my business, likethat lunch appointment you'll be late for if you don't get moving,"she retorts.
My father nods as I pushthe call button for the elevator.
"Did she call?"he asksSue, and I turn to face them.
She?
I realize my father hasfemale clients and colleagues, but something about the way he askedifshecalledfelt personal, and I suspect my father is heading out on adate.
"Mmhmm.Told her you werewith a client, and that I'd see that you get there on time," shetells him."So don't you make me look bad."
"Thanks."My father's toneis strangely grateful and serious, all the banter dissolved intothin air, and there's an awkwardness that lingers.
I don't know why I'm soput off by the idea of my father dating.It's been five years,surely he's been with women since my mother, and has probably evenhad real relationships.It's possible, I realize, that he's even inone now.That the woman he's meeting could be his girlfriend, forall I know.And even though rationally I know it's none of mybusiness, I feel a curiosity, no—a suspicion—that's crawlingthrough my veins, pushing me to find out just what this man is upto.
Maybe it's because nothingI've learned about him today has been what I'd been expecting.He'snot who I thought he was.Who I thought he would be.And now I feelan unsettling need to know more about his life, either to prove tomyself that he's full of shit—that he's still the bastard I knewhim to be—or to confirm that maybe, just possibly, there's an offchance he might be worth getting to know.
I feel like a pussy foreven thinking it.Like I've been fooling myself into thinking I wasan adult.That in actuality, I'm still just a naïve little boy, hoping against hopethat his father might be even half the man that in the darkestcorner of my heart, I'd always dreamed he could be.
Sue hugs me goodbye andmakes me promise to come by the office again soon.I feel guiltyagreeing, but I do, because it's the easiest thing to do.She tellsme to take care of myself, and not to let finals or whatever isstressing me out get to me.That I'mtoohandsome to look so damn serious.Thatgets a faint smile out of me.
Mitch enters the elevatorwith me, and I quietly watch him with renewed interest as we ridedown to the lobby, ignoring the few strangers that get on and offat the few stops on the way.
We exit together, and Ipull the folded up visitor's sticker from my pocket and chuck it ina waste bin on our way out.
