Page 37 of Justice

“She’s grieving,” I said finally, soft. “That’s all I saw today. A girl grieving something too big for her. Being ugly to me is a lot easier than feeling what’s really down there. I’m the safe one to be mean to. I’m not going anywhere and I’m not her daddy, so I’m free.” I shrugged. “And they’re all little monsters at that age anyway. Even the ones who didn’t lose anybody. I don’t take it personal.”

He was quiet a second. Then, low: “You’re generous with her.”

“I try.”

He got up and brought out the bottle and another wine glass. He poured himself one and we traded the day back and forth in low voices. Rita cussing out the DJ for playing a song that had “damn” in it. And then she had a sundowning moment where she thought the DJ was someone who owed her money. Dream trying to feed the horse an entire slice of cake. The Kingsbrook mothers and their outfits. He was dry and funny, funnier than I’d have ever guessed. I was laughing more than I’d laughed with a grown person in years. And at some point I realized I’d stopped watching the exits.

“Yeah, I saw the way they were eyeing you like you were a piece of meat,” I laughed.

“Skye, you should see them when I come to pick her up from school or go to one of those events. ‘Let’s set up a playdate. You and Dream can spend the night. Oh let me do Dream’s hair.’ All while stroking my arm or something. It’s so obvious.”

There it was again. A tinge of jealousy that I had no place to feel. And it made me think of Kira. What kind of relationship did they have?

“You’ve never messed with the moms of either of your daughters’ friends?” I pried to see if the wine would loosen his tongue.

“Never.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m serious. I ain’t perfect but most of those bitches are married. I ain’t messin’ with no married women. That’s just askin’ for unnecessary drama.”

Oh he has morals. That’s good. Wait. No it’s not. It doesn’t matter. He is my boss and this is just a job.

“You askin’ me all these questions about me. I don’t know much about you. Where you posted before you came to me, again?”

“I was a caregiver for a senior citizen. He was similar to Rita with dementia but he was far more advanced. He had pretty much reverted to his toddler self. Mr. Cooper. I can’t tell you how many times I had to make him put his pants back on. He liked flashing me.”

“Oh hell nah,” Justice laughed.

“Yes! It was an awful sight. I’m scarred for life. But those moments when he was lucid, he was very kind and sweet,” I said remembering him. It was true. I liked Mr. Cooper except for his strong will of swinging his old dick covered in gray hair around.

“What happened? What made you apply to work for me?”

Because you’re loaded! Oh and Mr. Cooper died.

But I went with the sensible answer. “Mr. Cooper passed away. He had a heart attack in his sleep. It broke my heart.”

“Did you find the body?”

“No. I didn’t live with that family. It happened over night and they called me the next morning to tell me they wouldn’t be needing my services any more. They thanked me. I did go to the funeral to pay my respects. I hope he’s at peace. When he was lucid he would talk about his deceased wife and how he couldn’t wait to join her. That’s all he talked about when he was lucid.”

“Damn,” he said as he took another swig of wine.

“I’m sorry, is that too much for you? I don’t mean to be insensitive.”

“Nah, you’re good. Have you loved someone like that?”

This line of questioning was way inappropriate. But we’d finished the bottle of wine. And yes, yes I have, but I didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Yeah, you’re my boss,” I replied, looking him in his eyes. But right now I didn’t feel like his employee.

“Listen. I’m tired, I’m gonna head to bed.”

“Aight,” he said leaning back but there was this low and sexy look in his eye. And if I looked too long, I’d sit down into his lap. And we couldn’t have that.

“Good night, Ms. Mercer,” his deep voice filled the air.