Silent Words

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by Lisa Fenwick


  Still, if I had to choose between the house and Auntie Jean’s cottage, I would walk away from the house. Auntie Jean’s little cottage was a place of solace for Mom and me. It was our escape from Dad. Because of that, it was a place we visited only rarely and only when things had gone beyond unbearable. Whenever we went to the cottage, he punished us for weeks afterwards. Not by beating Mom and destroying my stuff but by simmering at us, injecting absolutely every moment of every day with menace and threat, so that when he finally did burst, we were almost relieved at the break in the tension.

  That was probably why I had been so upset at Peter living in the cottage. During my early childhood, it was the one place that was completely free from the black cloud of hatred that was Dad, so to have somebody that reminded me of him so much living there and then leaving such a cloud of his own behind was a tremendous violation of the space. Jen would clean it up, and the memory of Peter would be lost, which was more than I could say about Dad.

  Chapter Four

  Noah

  The Past

  February 2015

  “Ashley! I’ve got something to show you,” I said, kissing my fiancée on the cheek.

  “Before lunch?” she asked as if she was annoyed about me doing something to upset our schedule.

  “Yes. It’ll just take a minute. Come on.” I took her hand and led her past the reception area into the working areas of Andrews, Andrews, and Bettan, the law firm I worked for.

  “What do you see there?” I asked, pointing into a cube farm.

  Ashley followed my aim and looked at me with a perplexed look on her face. Her normal blue eyes became dull, and she moved an imaginary strand of hair that she felt was out of place of her perfectly blond bun that she had twisted in the center of her head.

  “Your desk is empty?”

  “No, it’s not,” I said. “Come. Come!” I took her down a hallway and stopped in front of a small office. I tapped a name plate beside the door that read:

  Noah Gould, Esq.

  Associate Attorney

  “I know it’s a plastic plate, not a proper embossed brass plate, but I’m not a partner yet,” I said, feigning humility.

  “Wow!” Ashley said, wrapping me up in a big bear hug. “Weren’t you supposed to spend another year as a junior associate?”

  “I was, but between the work I did on the Cruckson case and the fact I’m already developing my own book of business, they accelerated my promotion.”

  “You deserve it.” Ashley smiled. “Especially after Cruckson. I almost forgot what you looked like for months because you were too busy prepping, and then the trial dragged on too.”

  She didn’t need to remind me about that time, the time that we nearly broke up, because she accused me of being more involved with my work than her. This was why she didn’t just become my girlfriend but my future wife too. I couldn’t imagine my life without her. I knew that the case would finish, and I didn’t want to lose her. She was the most amazing woman that I’d ever met, and I wanted her to know that I appreciated and loved her.

  “Seventy-nine consecutive days of work. Not like I was counting.” I kissed Ashley and took her hands in mine. “But I think it was worth it. Not only did they promote me early…”

  I leaned in to whisper into her ear, “But they started my salary at twenty thousand a year above what a new associate typically makes.”

  I leaned back again and said aloud, “Plus, they’ve given me comp time for all the extra hours I worked on the case and have ordered me to use them next month. They’re kicking me out of Manhattan entirely for a week and a half.”

  “Really?” Ashley asked, her eyes lighting up. “An actual, real vacation?”

  “A real, actual vacation. We can make it a pre-honeymoon if you like.”

  “So, where are you taking me, Associate Gould?”

  “A quick lunch at Jackie’s, since you have a meeting at one that you couldn’t miss.”

  Ashley socked me playfully on the arm. “I mean, where are you taking me on vacation? Since they’re kicking you out of the city, ten days of Netflix and chill in your apartment are not an option.”

  “Oh. That’s what you meant.” I chuckled, putting a hand on the small of her back and leading her back toward the reception area. “I was thinking maybe ten days of Netflix and chill at an Airbnb in Boston, maybe?”

  “I’m going to cancel your account before we leave. Seriously, though. What are you thinking of?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to yet. I literally found out a half hour before you got here. So, let’s say we look at our options over lunch? Sound like a plan?” I asked her, even though I knew the answer to my own question.

  “Well…” Ashley said after we rode the elevator down to the first-floor lobby. “We talked a while ago about a trip down to that couples’ resort down in Jamaica. What do you think? You, me, sand, water, sun, and all the umbrella cocktails we can drink.”

  I pulled the collar of my coat up against the cold blast of winter air that hit us as soon as we stepped outside. I was sure she’d timed the suggestion for just that moment, but I had to admit, she did have a point. If I was being told to get out and enjoy myself somewhere, why not somewhere a lot warmer than Manhattan in February?

  “I think that’s a brilliant idea,” I told her. “Let’s check our calendars when we get back from lunch and find out the best windows for us to be out of town.”

  “Well, if we’ve got it figured out already, is there any need for us to grab lunch?” Ashley asked, giving me a side-eyed glance and a coy smile.

  “I’d still love to spend the time with you,” I said, completely missing what she was getting at.

  “I still want this hour, Associate Gould. I’d just rather we spent it two blocks that way instead,” Ashley said, pointing toward our apartment.

  ◆◆◆

  Having come from a well-off family, having the security a trust fund had established for me, and working at a prestigious law firm, I barely noticed the expense of flying two people to an elite all-inclusive resort for ten days in one of their finest rooms. Ashley could have easily covered half of the cost, but I insisted she leave her credit card in her purse as I made the arrangements that night after dinner. For all the stress the Cruckson case had put on her, as my virtually abandoned partner, I decided to make not only the time but also the cost of the trip my gift to her for steadfastly standing by me through it all.

  “You know that I never would have survived it if it weren’t for those few stolen hours I got with you,” I told her as I closed my laptop and set it aside.

  “I’m just glad they made sure to reward you,” Ashley said, nestling in close to me. “Hand me my glass.”

  I plucked her wine glass from the end table beside the sofa and kissed the top of her head. “Less than four weeks, and we’ll be doing this on a beach,” I said, looking out at the wind-blown snow streaking past the apartment windows. “We should both get to a tanning salon and get some color to us, so we don’t go full lobster under the tropical sun.”

  “Oh, that sounds so lovely. Is it just me, or has this winter been grayer than usual?”

  “It’s not just you. Even trapped inside for the past few months, I’ve noticed it. It’s just been dreary.”

  “We need this so much, Noah. You and me. Some time together and away from everything. Away from this place.”

  Ashley and I started dating in college. I was a born and bred New Yorker, while she came from old money in South Carolina. The winters at Yale weren’t a problem for me, but she always had a hard time dealing with them. The winter break, when she’d go home to see her family, was always a desperately needed recharge for her from the bleakness of the northern winters.

  Ashley had been promoted to a position of greater responsibility for a retail giant about three months before the Cruckson case had swallowed my life, so she was only able to get two days off after Christmas to spend down south. Between that and my work keeping me away fo
r extended periods at the same time, Ashley was in desperate need of a break from the city.

  As she sipped at her wine, I could tell that just the promise of the upcoming vacation had brightened her mood, and I loved nothing better than to see a smile on her face. She was more relaxed than I’d felt her in weeks. The spark was back in her eyes, and the brightness was coming back to her voice.

  “I’ve always heard that the first Hell case at the firm is the worst. It’s the one where they really ride you hard to see what you’re made of. With the next big case, I’ll have a better idea of what I’m getting into, some lessons learned from Cruckson to rely on to know how I need to manage my time and my personal life. And there will be somebody lower down in the food chain that I can dump things on. I’m not going to lie. Andrews, Andrews, and Bettan pay well, but they’re going to make me earn every single red cent they give me. But next time, it won’t take as much out of me. I promise.”

  “I know,” Ashley said, kissing my neck. “This was my first holiday shopping season too. Next year, I’ll know what’s what as well. Let’s look at the past few months as our trial by fire to see if we’ve really got what it takes to make it as a married couple and parents someday as well!”

  “We survived the winter of ‘14 and ‘15. We can survive anything.”

  “Team Noah and Ashley!” she said, raising her glass to me.

  I took it from her hand, helped myself to a sip, and gave it back.

  “Ugh. I’ll never know how you can stand these dry whites,” I said, making a face.

  “I’ll never understand why you never outgrew the grape juice you drank as a kid.”

  “They’re not that bad,” I said, popping her nose with my index finger.

  “Whatever,” Ashley said. “Hundred bucks a bottle for stuff that’s almost as good as grape Kool-Aid in Everclear. If your taste in women was as bad as your taste in wine, I wouldn’t be anywhere near this apartment.”

  “If your taste in men was as bad as your taste in wine, you’d have locked yourself in a convent for your own safety.”

  “Where I’d be drinking good wine with dinner every night.” Ashley emptied her glass. “Come on. That little quickie we had just whetted my appetite for some longer attention.”

  ◆◆◆

  Two days later, Andrews Senior called me into his office, and I was nervous about what he wanted to discuss. Then again, I knew that it had to be good news. Everything in my life was going in the right direction, and nothing could bring me down.

  “Mr. Gould. I am very happy to see your request for some time off. It’s rare that a new associate takes this particular instruction seriously.”

  “I know an order when I hear one.” I winked at him.

  “Good. I hope that you and your lovely fiancée have a truly wonderful time. I have some things I want you to work on for the next few weeks before you leave, and I also have another longer-term project I’d like you to consider while you’re gone.”

  “Of course. I’m always happy to help make the firm a success,” I said, hoping that it would be after we returned, and he didn’t want me to do it now. After all, I promised Ashley a vacation, and I intended to stick to my word.

  “Yes. You have proven that quite admirably since we hired you,” Andrews said. He spent the next twenty minutes setting me up with a couple of cases of his own, higher-profile work than the clients I’d been able to bring onboard myself since joining the firm.

  “These are cases I’d like you to work on your own. With the assistance of our paralegal and research pool, of course, but you will be the only attorney representing the firm for these two cases. They’re solid, good bets for us but will give us a chance to see how you handle more serious work on your own.”

  From the details Andrews had given me, I agreed that we were likely to pull a very favorable settlement for either case without having to go to trial.

  “Now, the bigger matter I’d like to discuss with you. The Parkerson family has retained us for a very serious matter that must be handled with a high degree of professionalism and discretion. Think of it as Cruckson Two,” Andrews said.

  “Should I start planning my next vacation?” I asked, laughing nervously at the same time, thinking that I needed to marry Ashley quickly. Otherwise, I would lose her, and no amount of promotion would stop me from getting the one thing I craved most in life. Ashley.

  “If you think you can hold to the same standard you set for yourself with Cruckson One, I would encourage it. We will have you in a similar supporting role this time around, and you’ll be working with Jacobs again. He asked for you specifically,” he said, waiting for a reaction from me.

  I nodded, encouraging him to continue talking.

  “You really impressed him the first time around, and I think he’d like to take you under his wing. Jacobs is the best mentor we have here, and his good word carries a tremendous amount of weight when we decide to promote associates to partner.”

  “I don’t know what to say, other than I'm honored by the faith both you and Jacobs are putting in me.”

  “Noah, most young lawyers default to giving thanks and making a solemn promise not to let the firm down.”

  “Of course. How about if I go with that instead of babbling and making an idiot of myself.”

  “I would appreciate that,” Andrews said, smiling. “This new case with Jacobs will be your top priority after you return from vacation, so I need the two new cases we’ve just discussed as settled as possible before you leave. You’ll need to hold your other work to strictly 25 percent of your time, until the Parkerson matter is in final preparation for trial. At that point, you will need to cut back to ten to fifteen percent. Start deepening your relationships with the firm’s support staff now, because you will need to rely on them heavily when that happens.”

  We spent another ten minutes in conversation about how I should manage my upcoming time to make sure I would be able to leave for vacation with a clean desk and mind so I wouldn’t have to worry about my cases while I was gone.

  By the time I got back to my desk, I couldn’t believe just how lucky and blessed I was. I had a good family, worked and studied hard through high school, and got myself into a good undergrad pre-law program. While in college, I’d met Ashley, one of the most attractive, intelligent, and graceful women I’d ever encountered in my life.

  After graduation, I got into Yale to do my law degree and did well enough in my classes that I had my pick of internships. I’d opted to intern with Andrews, Andrews, and Bettan, and when I graduated third in my class, they were more than happy to bring me on as a junior attorney.

  I only let myself reflect on that for a few minutes, though. I hadn’t gotten to where I was by patting myself on the back. I’d gotten myself to where I was by earning my accolades.

  One of the pieces of advice I’d gotten from Andrews was to start cultivating my connections with the firm’s support staff. I put my headset on and looked up a number.

  “Adam. Noah Gould,” I said, when the maître d’ at Bistro 757 answered.

  “Yes, Mr. Gould. How may I help you?”

  “Would one of the club tables be available for tomorrow at 12:30?” Mom was a member of a dining club that kept standing reservations at a number of restaurants around Manhattan. One of the many familial benefits I made good use of.

  “How many?”

  “Four.”

  “Yes, we do have a table for four available. It will be a pleasure to see you.”

  I finished up that call and dialed another one, to one of the firm’s paralegals I’d worked with on a few of my smaller cases.

  “Steve. Noah Gould. You got any plans for lunch tomorrow?”

  “None at the moment.”

  “Well, you do now. You, Marcia, and Kathy, if they’re available too. Let’s call it 12:30. We’ll meet up front and take a walk.

  I knew that it would take more than a nice lunch to build the kinds of relationships I needed, but getting
people out of the office put them in a more relaxed environment. It would give me a chance to see a little more of their true selves, to find out the things that really motivated them. That was wisdom from Dad, who had been a prodigious and very successful lawyer himself, until an aggressive pancreatic cancer took him down suddenly a few months after my 21st birthday.

  “Learn what somebody loves, and every third or fourth time you see them, be sure to ask about it or mention it. Learn to care about it yourself, so you’ll notice when you see an article about it in the news, or hear it on the radio, or see it in a store. Never underestimate the value of making somebody feel valued, and one of the most genuine ways you can do that is to care about things that are important to them.”

  Thinking back on that advice, I briefly wished I was the kind of burnt-out, jaded lawyer that kept a bottle of booze in his desk drawer, because I felt a sudden need to pour out a shot and toast Dad’s memory. Instead, I pulled out my phone and set a reminder to have a dram when I got home.

  On my desk was a picture of myself and Dad. I had always loved cars. As a young boy, I had been fascinated with toy cars. About the time I was ten, I started spending time in the garage with the family’s driver, watching the man wash and maintain the vehicles. In high school, I asked Dad to work something out so I could leave my elite private school for one period a day and go to the local public school to take an auto repair course. Mom was solidly against me slumming with the stoners and burnouts but not Dad. Dad stood square behind my decision and even encouraged me to get to know the other kids in the class.

  “They’re different than you. Not less than, just different,” Dad always told me.

  When I turned twenty-one, one of the gifts from Dad was a weekend course on high-performance driving at a racetrack upstate. That was where the picture came from. The course culminated in the participants getting to take the cars out onto the track and open them up. I’d finished my final run, where I’d gotten a car up to 175 MPH, and Dad was right there to celebrate with me.

 

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