by Ford, Julie
“Momma, are you there already?”
“Uh, huh. We got here just a little bit ago,” she said, watching a couple walking along the beachfront, swinging a toddler between them. She could almost feel the waves breaking gently around their feet. “What’s going on at home?”
“Granny Carol took me to get a haircut after school. She said that I looked like some kind of hooligan, whatever that is, and the lady cut it short and spiked it up on top.”
“Do you like it?”
“No, cause then we went to Publix and I saw Ashley Morris. She smiled at me funny, and said that she liked my hair.”
“Wow, son, you are quite handsome—just like your daddy.”
“Gross, Momma. I don’t want no stinkin’ girls likin’ my hair, especially Ashley. And now I can’t get it to lie down.”
Josie held back a chuckle. “It’ll settle down when you wash it. And what’s wrong with Ashley anyway? Didn’t I see her name scribbled in your folder a while back?” she teased him—she hadn’t ever heard of an Ashley.
“What folder? Momma, you’re not supposed to look at my stuff.”
“Uh, huh,” Josie said, now feeling a little uneasy. Jack was ten now, old enough to be interested in girls; Josie thought she might need to find out more about this Ashley. “What else is going on around there?”
“Well, Bobbie got his cut too, and he wanted the lady to make the tips lighter than the rest, so Granny said okay.” Pausing, he waited until he heard his mother gasp. “Just kiddin’. I mean Bobbie wanted it, but Granny said no. Something about the hooligan thing again.”
Very funny, Josie thought, maybe he’s got a little of me in him after all.
“After Bobbie got done, Beth refused to let anyone touch her hair, and she took off running. Don’t worry though, next door, at the toy store, they had this huge Barbie display, and we found her stuck to the window. She kinda threw a fit when Granny pulled her away, but, oh well.” After a breath, Jack continued, “Then, when we got home, Sampson got out and Bobbie and me had to chase him for three blocks. Granny said that stayin’ with the likes of us is enough to drive her to drink—or something.”
Oh great. Her mother had been relatively sober since the Judge died. One week with her kids, and she might possibly fall off the wagon.
“Momma.” Jack suddenly sounded concerned. “I…we were worried about you this morning; is everything all right?”
On the beach, Josie watched a larger than expected wave roll in, drenching the now screaming toddler before her parents could move her out of the way.
“Yeah, baby, Momma’s real sorry about that. It won’t ever happen again. I give you my word.” Hundreds of miles away and she still felt guilty.
* * * *
Wearing one VAN Eli peep-toe sling-back pump, Josie was hopping out of the bathroom, attempting to slide the other shoe onto her opposite foot, when she saw that John had returned.
In front of the wardrobe mirror, he was already dressed in his tuxedo shirt and trousers, tying a black bow tie around his upturned collar. As he turned his collar down, he spied Josie’s reflection in the mirror. Looking taken aback, he turned and scanned her from head to toe.
Tugging at the cuffs of his shirt, he appraised Josie’s black Maggy London chiffon dress with a plunging neckline and empire, satin waist. “Why didn’t you wear that dress the other night?” he asked.
After securing the strap around her ankle, she joined him in front of the mirror. “Because I didn’t have time to pick it up. Remember?” she said, her voice prickling with annoyance. She really was getting tired of being ignored.
He watched her as she teased the crown of her spiraling locks and then pinned it back, leaving the rest to fall naturally about her neck and shoulders.
“Right.” John shot Josie one more ambiguous stare as he strutted past her, heading for the bathroom. “You finished up in here?”
When he passed her, Josie could see that John’s hair was slightly damp as if he’d recently showered. “Thanks, you look really nice too,” she mumbled. And he really did look good—too good—all gussied up in his tuxedo, like James Bond, only so much better. But, given that his demeanor hadn’t changed from this morning, Josie decided to take her own key just in case she needed to make a quick getaway.
Retrieving a hibiscus-clad plastic card from the dresser, she dropped it into her bag and snapped it shut.
* * * *
The formal dining room looked like a set from an old black and white 1950’s film shot in Havana, Cuba, or some other tropical location. With two walls open to the outside, the shutters were folded back, revealing swaying palms, a pool, and a view onto the breaking surf in the distance. Overhead, bamboo fans slowly turned while hurricane lanterns with faux flames illuminated the white tablecloths and carved cherry wood furniture. Waiters in white waistcoats stood three to a table, while bus boys in linen shirts and black trousers hustled about, clearing plates and carrying large platters of food covered with silver lids.
As they approached their table, Lanny and Barbara grinned excitedly at them. A waiter pulled out Josie’s chair, allowing her to sit, before pushing it in behind her. John took the seat next to her. Another waiter moved around the table filling champagne glasses.
John nodded around the table. “Evening, everyone.”
Lanny scanned Josie’s low-cut dress. “Well, Jocelyn, you sure clean up nice. I guess that three-hour nap on the ride over did the trick.”
Josie felt her cheeks flush. Oh god, just go ahead and shoot me now. Smiling uncomfortably, she said, “Thanks.”
Both sporting similar sparkly fitted tank dresses, Trisha and Lydia looked like bookends—although Trisha filled hers out much more impressively than did Lydia. Josie thought about how ridiculous it was that Lydia idealized Trisha. Becoming Trisha’s “mini-me,” Lydia had adopted her style in dress and her pretentious attitude.
Josie gave her sister-in-law an affable smile, which Lydia only halfheartedly returned. While she and Lydia were in-laws, they’d never really been friends, except of course when Lydia needed Josie’s help with the twins or became furious at Gloria and needed to vent.
Patrick and Amy showed up last and took their seats between the Montgomerys and Josie. “Sorry we’re late—hope we didn’t keep ya’ll waiting,” Patrick apologized as he scooted his chair forward. “It’s just that we haven’t been away…alone in a while and—”
“Patrick!” Amy cut him off, smiling awkwardly around the table.
Watching Amy blush, Josie felt a wash of jealousy as she thought about how she and John had never once taken time away together until now. Only, today he’d left her alone to take care of… Of what, exactly?
With his champagne glass aloft, Lanny got to his feet. “Here’s to electing a judge who’ll uphold the Christian values established by our great founding fathers, and who’ll interpret the law in a fair and impartial manner for all.” He paused before adding, “Including the big guy,” with raised eyebrows and a devious smirk. “And to all those sitting here tonight who are committed to making that happen.”
As everyone clinked glasses, nodding in approval and sipping their champagne, Josie wondered again about what Lanny was expecting from John in return for his generous support. And do I want to be a part of it?
* * * *
Josie sat quietly, poking at her salad, trying not to listen to the conformist dribble of the people around her. She watched Trisha move the food around her plate, pretending to eat, and now understood how she maintained her perfectly slim figure. Josie tried the no-eating thing for about half a day. While she had her issues, satisfying a need for control—or to have men gawk at her incessantly—through starvation wasn’t one them.
When the topic turned to the Ten Commandments in the courtroom debate, Josie prayed for continued composure. Just a little longer and this meal would be over.
“People these days just have no morals. They need to be reminded of right and wrong. Especially when stan
ding before a judge in court,” Andy said—like he knew anything about having morals.
Josie took a large bite so she wouldn’t be able to scream. She got so tired of being surrounded by people whose belief systems were in such stark contrast to her own. She missed the days when she and Brian socialized in more “open-minded” circles. Where everyone didn’t feel like they had to agree; where all opinions were both considered and discussed.
“Christian values, like I said, that’s what this country was founded on. If someone doesn’t like it, they can go back to where they came from.” Lanny banged the table with his salad fork. Barbara encouraged him to settle down, reminding him of his blood pressure.
Josie stared down at her plate. What about the Americans who don’t believe in God? I suppose that they need to just go somewhere else, too? Wasn’t this country founded on freedom of religion? I think that would include choosing not to be religious.
As the salad plates were collected, she breathed a sigh of relief. Only one more course to go: dessert.
“They require people to swear on the Bible; what’s the big…” Denton got involved, but Josie tuned him out, her mind refuting his statement.
Judges make rulings according to the laws of man…God judges according to his law—the Ten Commandments. I don’t know about the rest of ya’ll, but I would think that a judge with a God complex would be a hell of a lot more scary than a few atheists who just want a fair day in court. Josie rolled her eyes in annoyance and then felt embarrassed when Patrick shot her a little wink.
Afraid that she wouldn’t be able to keep quiet much longer, Josie considered attempting to change the subject, but to what?
Hum? she thought. What was that she heard on the radio the other day? Should vegetarians eat animal crackers? Definitely, a benign enough subject she decided. After all, the animal cracker represented an animal, which is meat. And wasn’t that what McDonalds served—something representing meat?
She thought maybe she could be onto something.
“So, Jocelyn. How do you feel about being married to a judge?” Patrick’s question brought Josie back to the conversation just as a waiter with the dessert cart came to her. She picked the chocolate cake and kept her answer to herself.
“Jocelyn’s daddy was Judge McClain,” John said while choosing a dessert from the cart. “I clerked for him for three years.”
Josie bit her lip at the mention of her maiden name. Watching Lanny, his eyes narrowing in contemplation after hearing her father’s name, Josie knew that he was dangerously close to making the connection. A link to the past that Josie thought she’d successfully evaded the other night. She’d been eyeing the dark chocolate three-layer cake with fudge and whipped topping all evening, but now all she could do was tentatively jab at the decadent dessert, suddenly too anxious to eat.
“Wonder how your daddy would feel about you working for the likes of Brian McAlister…he being a liberal defense attorney and all?” Andy said, his eyes taunting.
Josie swallowed hard, watching Lanny as he methodically savored his crème briolette. She could practically see the wheels turning at the mention of Brian’s name. Barbara’s gaze darted nervously back and forth between the two of them.
“McAlister,” Denton hissed, taking a sip of his coffee.
Turning his obnoxious laugh on someone besides Josie for a change, Andy chided, “Oh yeah, I seem to remember that he wiped the courtroom floor with your attorney a while back. How much did Brian set you back?”
That’s my Brian, Josie thought, high-powered defense attorney; champion of civil rights; attorney who accepted cases no other attorney would ever dream of, whether the client could pay or not, and won. He was, without a doubt, the most compassionate man Josie had ever known, but in the courtroom he was merciless, pursuing his opponents with lethal efficiency. Ten months ago Brian had filed a malpractice suit against one of the doctors in Denton’s practice, and won, big.
“Too much,” Denton said, shooting a blindingly white-toothed sneer in Josie’s direction.
John shifted in his chair, subtly clearing his throat. But Josie was only concerned with the way Lanny’s face was slowly changing from contemplation to recognition. She felt her cheeks flush with the increased pounding in her chest. Her palms grew moist. Bracing herself, she estimated that John was about to get a whole lot more uncomfortable.
* * * *
“Brian McAlister and Josie McClain…together again,” Lanny said, eyes narrowed and his stare locked on Josie. He pointed a stout finger in her direction. “I thought I recognized you.”
“I’m sorry, am I missing something?” John suddenly looked apprehensive, glancing toward Lanny and back to Josie.
“He has no idea. Does he?” Lanny jabbed a thumb in John’s direction, his lips turning up slightly at the corner.
“Now, honey, we don’t need to go dredging up the past, do we?” Barbara patted Lanny on the shoulder while plastering on a reassuring smile and sending it to Josie.
An uncomfortable silence descended on the table as people in the party looked about and shoulders shrugged. Josie bit her lip again as Lanny held his concentrated gaze on her.
“I don’t know about anybody else.” Andy broke the silence, rubbing his hands together. “But I say we dredge.”
John turned his chilly stare on his wife. “Jocelyn, what’s going on?”
Josie looked around at all the people watching her, waiting for an explanation. She tried to speak but her throat had literally closed up.
Lanny began. “I guess you weren’t aware that your little wife here was involved with an ultra-liberal environmental group lead by the infamous Brian McAlister.” He paused. “Quite involved with Mr. McAlister, as I remember. He was her…boyfriend.”
“I’m sorry. Did you say ‘boyfriend?’” John’s question was directed to Lanny, but he didn’t look away from Josie. “Jocelyn, what’s Lanny talking about?”
Looks were exchanged around the table again as a wicked sneer appeared across Trisha’s face.
Josie found her voice, sort of. “Um…well, you see...” She paused, how can I make this sound, well not…oh, what’s the use? “It was a long, long time ago and now—well, the details are a bit fuzzy.”
“Let me see if I can clear them up for you a bit,” Lanny said, his eyes gleaming. “This little lady, sittin’ right here at my table single-handedly cost my daddy…well, let’s see… How many millions of dollars was it?” He scratched his chin, pretending not to remember.
Andy grinned, looking as if his evening was complete now that Josie appeared to be in the hot seat again. “Oh yeah, never a dull moment with Jocelyn around.”
John threw Andy a death-wish glare, before asking Lanny, “Did you say ‘millions?’”
Lanny looked at Josie. “You want to tell it, or should I?”
Josie still didn’t know where to start, so Lanny began. “What has it been now? Fourteen, fifteen years?” He looked to Barbara. She simply shook her head and rolled her eyes.
Everyone stared at Lanny as he continued. “You see, my daddy had a plant up in St. Clair County, way out in the middle of nowhere. Downstream, a few miles, was this little town of about twelve thousand. That sound about right…Josie?”
Josie felt her apprehension change to indignation emboldened by Lanny’s belligerent attitude, and the memories of the sick and dying townspeople. “Sounds about right,” she agreed.
“Thought you didn’t remember?” John said through clenched teeth.
Lanny continued. “Well, somehow this McAlister and his group got word that my daddy’s plant was poisoning the water—making folks in this town sick. So, Brian and Josie, along with a few others, came up there. Stirring things up.” Pausing, he raised a brow at Josie. “But there weren’t no proof and the case had been thrown out of court three times.”
Heat grew on the back of Josie’s neck. She’d heard enough. “Your daddy had every judge and lawman within three counties tucked tightly in his back
pocket. Those poor people never had a chance.”
John shifted nervously in his chair. “Maybe we could continue this conversation in private?” he suggested.
Lanny ignored him. “But Brian wasn’t gonna give up that easily. Oh no. He brings this environmental guy, all the way down from WashingtonDC, to test the water and write a report.” Shaking his head, he said, “Unfortunately for my daddy, ya’ll were right and the plant was contaminating the water.”
“Sounds like an open and shut case,” Amy said.
“Except the report, and the environmental specialist—both went missing two days before all the evidence was due in court.” Josie shot an accusing stare at Lanny. “And Brian, conveniently, winds up in jail on some bogus charge of public misconduct—arrested by your very uncle, Old Man Montgomery’s brother.”
“I see that your memory’s improving.” Lanny sat back and crossed his arms. “That would have been the end of it, too, except our little Jocelyn here got wind of a rumor that the ‘lost’ report was locked up, safe and sound, in the plant’s file room.”
Everyone at the table gasped, except Patrick. His gaze was riveted as he leaned forward. “So, what happened next?”
“Well, that’s where my knowledge comes to an end,” Lanny admitted and everyone turned, gaping at Josie. “What about it, Jocelyn? You want to tell us all how you managed to get your hands on a document that was locked in a restricted, secure facility?”
White as a sheet, John said, “I think that we’ve heard enough. This is getting a little out of hand.”
The voices around the table rose in disapproval as Lanny said, “What’s the statute of limitations on breaking and entering? Ten years…maybe?” Looking around the table for confirmation, he said, “Let’s have it, Jocelyn. I think that after all these years, I have a right to know…put the mystery to rest, so to speak.”
John mumbled something like, “God, almighty,” as he wiped his hand down his face. Then, turning to Josie, he said, “Well, tell the man what he wants to hear.”
Josie so did not want to go into all the gory details. “John’s right. We should probably just drop it.”