Cascade

by Claudia Hall Christian

  “Happy to help,” Blane said.

  “I’ll see you in a month for the next blood draw and we’ll talk about it then.”

  Blane followed Heather from the doctor’s office. They stopped to make his next appointment and then went through the maze of hallways to the entrance. Outside, they began the hike across the campus to the patient parking lot. Blane opened Heather’s door and went around to the driver’s seat. He pulled out onto Colfax.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Blane said.

  “I was wondering what will happen now that you don’t need me anymore,” Heather said.

  “You mean because the Ribavirin treatment is over?”

  Heather nodded. Her hands instinctively went to her big belly.

  “I thought we were a family,” Blane said.

  “I’m really just a freeloader,” she said. “I’ve lived in your house, eaten your food… I should get on my way.”

  “We’re married. I was going to be the father of the baby.”

  “Oh come on! That was just on paper.”

  “Heather,” Blane pulled over to the curb. “What’s going on?”

  Heather shrugged.

  “Please tell me what’s going on,” Blane said. “You’ve been a rock for me. Every step along the way, you’ve been positive and confident. What’s happened to ‘We’re a family’?”

  Heather shrugged. Lost in her own thoughts, she looked away from him.

  “Sandy’s going to live at the Castle for a while,” Heather said. “I can live at her place until I get on my feet again.”

  “Please stop this,” Blane’s voice echoed the panic he felt inside. “You’re making all of this up. I don’t want you to go. You’ve been through hell and back with me. Please Heather talk to me. What happened?”

  “I saw my mother yesterday,” Heather said. “She saw Sandy on television and said she wanted to talk. I went over…”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You’ve been working to finish getting the Lipson sale ready. I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “What did your mother say?”

  “That gay boy is going to break your heart.” Heather looked over at him. “Mark my words, he’ll abandon you and the baby to go sex it up around town. Then where will you be?”

  “Like I’ve sexed it up so far?” Blane’s rage and indignation bled into his words.

  “You’ve been sick,” Heather said.

  “That’s what you think? I’ve made all this commitment to our life together because I was sick?”

  Heather looked away from him. Staring out on Colfax, she watched a group of homeless men leaning against the boarded front door of an abandoned restaurant. Moving in slowly, the men shifted in the morning cold.

  “I know it’s dumb. I believe what Mom says,” Heather said into the passenger window. “Even though I know she’s bitter and angry with me, I still believe her.”

  “I know.”

  Heather turned back to look at him.

  “Are you going to abandon me?”

  “No,” he said. “I don’t abandon people. I never have. I never will.”

  “What if you and Enrique get back together again?”

  “What if you and the doctor start dating?”

  “What doctor?”

  “You haven’t noticed my doctor? The one back there?”

  “Noticed what?” Heather asked.

  “He’s totally hot for you,” Blane said.

  “He is not,” Heather said. “Look at me! I’m a cow! I’ve never been this huge! I…”

  “You’re gorgeous,” Blane said. “Listen. You have to listen to me. Just listen.”

  Heather nodded.

  “There’s an idea about gay men,” Blane said. “We’re all promiscuous, fuck each other anywhere, any time. And some men are like that. But some straight men are like that too. I had my fill of it when I was a kid. Since I’ve been clean and had a choice, I have been sexual within the context of my relationships. No orgies, no bath houses, no book clubs, no sex through a wall or whatever. My choice. Long before I met you.”

  “But we don’t have sex,” Heather said. “Isn’t that hard on you?”

  “No,” Blane said. “If you were a man and we were in a relationship, that would be hard. Is it hard on you?”

  Heather shook her head. He tilted his head to ask again.

  “I mean, I miss it,” Heather said. “But not the one night stand sex.”

  “You thought you’d be with that guy,” Blane said. “The tool.”

  “The sperminator. I guess with the baby coming, I think about him,” Heather said. “I didn’t think he would be such an ass. God, this custody crap is stupid. Now, he has to pay child support and will have to prove he’s capable of custody. Social services doesn’t care about the money he gave me already. What an idiot.”

  “He’s pretty dumb,” Blane said. “The social worker told me he wants to stop the proceedings. But once they know he’s the father, he’s going to pay for the next eighteen years of his life.”

  “Or think he will,” Heather said. “We’ll let him off the hook when you adopt the baby. If you still want to…”

  “Adopt my baby? I can hardly wait to meet him.”

  Blane beamed at Heather and she smiled in return.

  “I want what Jacob and Jill have, what you and Enrique had,” Heather said.

  “Enrique’s with a guy named Calvin,” Blane said. He moved the car into the Colfax traffic. “I saw them together at the acupuncture clinic. The guy told the desk clerk that Enrique quit smoking for him. I checked Enrique’s file. It says they’re living together.”

  “So he’s been with this guy all along?”

  “Yep,” Blane said.

  “Are you all right about it?”

  “I’m not broken up about it, if that’s what you mean,” Blane said. “I have too many great things in my life to worry about Enrique right now.”

  “We have shitty taste in men,” Heather said.

  “We have shitty taste in men.”

  “I’m glad we have each other,” Heather said.

  “Can you trust me? Is it possible just to trust me?”

  Heather nodded.

  “Do you trust me?” Heather asked.

  “After the last three months? I trust you with my life,” Blane said. “I’m tired of talking about me being gay and you being straight. We have so many great things to talk about. This gets just stupid.”

  “You’ll tell me if…”

  “I will,” Blane said. “The second I fall in love, you’ll be the first to know. You’ll tell me?”

  Heather nodded.

  “And we won’t talk about it again?”

  “I won’t,” Heather said.

  “Good. I won’t either,” Blane said. “And we’re a family right?”

  “You’re my only family now.”

  “You’re my only family,” Blane said. “I don’t have to be in until noon. Let’s go get your car. What did you pick?”

  “Subaru Outback,” Heather said.

  “That’s not very fancy.”

  “I’m not a very fancy girl.” Heather said.

  Blane smiled and turned the car down Havana toward the dealership.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Monday afternoon — 4:11 P.M.

  “That’s the best we can expect, Aden,” Samantha Hargreaves said.

  “One year in county, one year work release, three years probation,” Aden said. “It doesn’t seem like much of a bargain.”

  “Third degree assault has a possible sentence of two years in county. A year sentence is a reduction. You should be out in six months with good behavior,” Samantha said. “You’ve had a lot of press attention. The Denver Post is calling you a hero. If they don’t prosecute, the police and D.A. think there will be more vigilante justice. With all of these men arrested for child pornography, they have to lay down the law. That’s what they say.”

  “I’m an example.�
�

  “You’re being used as an example,” Samantha said.

  “And if we take it to trial?”

  “The DA is pissed off, Aden,” Samantha said. “He’ll come at you full force. Plus…”

  Closing her mouth, Samantha shook her head.

  “This is the best we can expect,” she said.

  “Plus what?”

  Samantha sighed.

  “Have you ever heard of Judge Howard Alberts?”

  “The hanging judge? Yeah, he was the judge on my last case. He scared the crap out of me. He told me nothing pissed him off more than seeing a capable person ‘shit their life away.‘ Said if he ever saw me again, ever, even in the grocery store, he would give me the maximum sentence on my case and throw in a couple of charges for sheer stupidity alone. My PD told me he was the hardest, meanest judge on the bench. He’s probably the single most influential person in my life. I was so terrified of him that I got clean, let Nuala go, and the rest is history.”

  Puzzled, Aden’s brows furrowed.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “He’s the judge on this case. Your case, Sandy’s father’s case and the rest of the cases. He’s a senior judge now. He’ll decide what happens in all of these cases. He’s chosen to try your case. He specifically said he would preside over your case.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Fuck is right, Aden,” Samantha said. “The DA told me that because a senior judge has chosen to take the bench, he’s going to personally prosecute your case. If we take this to trial, we…”

  “We’ve already lost,” Aden said. “Wow, I really fucked up my life.”

  “I’m sorry.” Samantha’s baby blue eyes relayed her empathy. “We’ll get through this together.”

  “Yes, thank you for everything, Samantha,” Aden said. “As always, I’d be lost without you.”

  “We’ll take the plea?”

  “Yes, we’ll take the plea,” Aden said. “How long do I have?”

  “Not long,” Samantha said. “The DA wants you gone, and fast. I’ll try to stall but I bet they’ll want to do this by the end of the week. You need to get ready.”

  “Crap,” Aden said.

  “No point putting off the inevitable,” Samantha said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know,” she smiled. “It’s something my Dad used to say all the time. We’ll get through this. Jake said you’ll have your job when you get out. You know how to do easy time.”

  “I’ll miss almost two years of my kid’s lives! Noelle will be a teenager by the time I get done. My unborn baby will be a toddler. God, Nash will grow up without me,” Aden said. “Judge Alberts has a final say on sentencing. He can give me the maximum. What’s the maximum?”

  “He can insist that it’s a first degree assault – intent to do serious bodily harm and doing serious bodily harm – rather than what we’re pleading to, third degree assault – knowingly or recklessly causing bodily harm,” Samantha said. “First degree assault is mandatory ten years. At the minimum. We’ll claim self defense because you believed you were protecting Noelle. But if he refuses the plea and goes with first degree assault, we’ll have to go to trial. No choice.”

  “At least ten years!” Aden said. “He’s going to give me the maximum. I just know it.”

  “One thing at a time,” Samantha said. “We can always make a big media fuss. The DA isn’t going to want that kind of attention.”

  “But he took my case, right?”

  “He did,” Samantha said.

  “I’m fucked.”

  ~~~~~~~~

  Tuesday morning — 2:30 A.M.

  Czech Republic

  Mike set Valerie down to open the apartment door. She stumbled into the living room and flopped on the couch. He helped her out of her clothing then carried her to the bathroom. By what the media called her ‘diva demands,’ their plush apartment came with a large bathtub. She dozed against him while he started their bath.

  He helped her into the bathtub then stepped in behind her. She rested against him for a while. When she roused, he asked:

  “How are you?”

  “Very happy,” Valerie said. “I had a great day and this is a dream come true.”

  He pulled her against him. They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

  and purposes…

  Tuesday early morning — 4:20 A.M.

  “Slow down. Slow down,” Sandy whispered into the telephone. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. What happened?”

  “It’s your father, Sandy,” Seth yelled over the siren of his squad car. She could hear his car engine roar as he sped up.

  “What is it?” Next to her, Aden sat up in bed. “What happened?”

  “Nothing. Don’t worry,” Sandy said. “You have a half hour. Go back to sleep.”

  Carrying her cell phone, she got out of bed and went out to the living room of the apartment they were staying in.

  “What is going on?” she asked Seth again.

  “Your father was transferred to county last night. No one’s sure if he killed himself or if someone did it for him,” Seth said. “The Feds are freaked out. Everything’s up in the air. Someone should be there to get you.”

  There was a tap on the apartment front door. Sandy went to answer the door. MJ stood outside. She held the door for him to enter.

  “MJ’s here,” Sandy said.

  “Is that O’Malley?” MJ asked.

  Sandy nodded.

  “Great. I’ll call you from the jail,” Seth said. “Do not go anywhere without someone you know.”

  “Someone I know?” Sandy asked.

  “The Feds say this is a contract hit out of China. Sandy, if it’s true, you’ll be the next target.”

  Sandy dropped to the couch.

  “I’ll be in touch,” Seth hung up the phone.

  “What do you know?” Sandy asked MJ.

  “Nothing. The LC called and said to get up here.”

  MJ took a handgun from a holster on his hip. He flicked off the safety and cocked the gun.

  “Oh no you don’t,” Sandy said. “We have little kids here. You put that safety back on that gun and cycle that action.”

  “Sandy…”

  “Do it,” Sandy said. “No one even knows I’m here. And anyway, who could get through all the security here? Ever since that Trevor thing, and you moved in, there’s security everywhere.”

  “Better to be safe than sorry,” MJ nodded.

  “That’s what I’m saying. Cycle the action and put on the safety!”

  Not wanting to upset her further, MJ did what she asked. They sat looking at each other.

  “You don’t have any idea?” Sandy asked.

  MJ shook his head.

  “You’re just doing what you’re told?”

  “You know how many people applied for my job? Eight thousand. So when the LC says jump, I jump.’”

  “I guess we just wait,” she said.

  “We wait.”

  ~~~~~~~~

  Tuesday afternoon — 2:12 P.M.

  “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?” the bailiff asked Honey.

  “I do.”

  Honey’s mouth was so dry that her voice cracked. She took a drink from her water bottle. The water was cold against her throat. To avoid looking at the crowded court room, she focused on the plastic bottle. Arrowhead. Delphie had tucked the frozen bottle into her wheelchair this morning.

  She looked up to see the Assistant District Attorney, Ann Campbell, walk across the courtroom toward her. The woman smiled in an effort to reassure Honey.

  “Can you state your full name for the court please?” the assistant DA asked.

  “Honey Lipson Scully,” she said.

  “You had another last name?” Ms. Campbell asked.

  “I was Honey Gilmore until my father adopted me when I was nine or ten years old.” Honey cleared her throat.


  “Your father is Greg Gilmore,” the assistant DA said.

  “My father is Sam Lipson,” Honey said.

  “Let me rephrase,” Ms. Campbell said. “Your biological father is Greg Gilmore.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Honey’s voice dropped at the mere idea that she was related to Greg Gilmore.

  “What was Mr. Gilmore like as a father?” Ms. Campbell asked.

  “Objection!” Honey’s sister’s attorney, Miles Blanchard yelled. “Relevance?”

  “Your introductory statement said that your client’s childhood created the template for her troubled life,” the assistant DA said.

  “That’s correct,” the judge said. The judge’s piercing voice softened as she smiled at Honey. “Mrs. Scully, you may answer the question.”

  “He…” Honey cleared her throat. Her eyes looked down at her maimed fingers.

  “Why don’t you rephrase the question?” the judge asked Ms. Campbell.

  “Honey, what can you tell me about Mr. Gilmore?”

  Honey’s eyes moved over the people crammed into the audience. She saw MJ smile at her. Jill winked at her. Sitting next to MJ, her mother, Tiffanie, was anxiously biting her nails. The door opened and Sam Lipson stepped into the courtroom. Across the space, Big Sam’s compassionate hazel eyes filled Honey will warmth. She nodded. She could do this.

  “Greg. That’s what we called him. Greg.”

  “Why did you call him Greg?”

  “Because he refused to accept that we were his children. Even though we look like him,” Honey said. “He was convinced my mother cheated on him. He used us as an excuse to beat my mother for being a ‘whore.’”

  Honey gulped at the word. Looking at the judge, she said, “Sorry.”

  “You’re doing fine,” the judge said.

  “So Greg beat your mother? Once? Twice?”

  “Every day, sometimes more, when he was around,” Honey said. “He was agitated all the time, hyper. I guess he was on drugs. I mean, I saw him smoke pot, shoot heroin, snort a whole bunch of meth, cocaine, whatever. He wasn’t so hyper when he was on drugs. He was mean when he was drunk. Really mean. When he had drugs, we had money. Everything was good, or as good as it could be, when he was around.”