by M. C. Cerny
“Yes, of course, Your Honor.” I grab my papers. Mr. Campbell actually hands some to me as I tug on his arm, pulling him out of his chair and into the court’s hall. “Let’s go, and not a word until we get back to the office,” I whisper to my client harshly as I drag him behind me to get to the bottom of this.
* * * * *
Back at my office, we reconvene. “Back so soon? How did it go?” Lucas inquires and I push him out of my way, my client following close behind me. I see my dad pop his head out of his office only to shake it and go back inside, slamming his own door shut, leaving me irrevocably on my own as usual.
“Not now, you little turd.” Grumbling under my breath, I open the door to the conference room, usher Mr. Campbell inside, and shut the door in Lucas’ surprised face. “You better tell me what the hell that was about in there.” I slam my belongings down on the table, waiting for an answer.
“This isn’t my first DUI.”
“Obviously.” I pace the room to look out the large window, my arms crossed over my chest.
“I wasn’t caught after my first one.”
“Most people aren’t. That’s why the behavior is often negatively reinforced. Mr. Campbell are you going to get to the point of the story today or are you going to surprise me at our next court date, because I’ll have a hard time keeping you from jail if we piss the judge off.”
He visibly swallows before leading into his cautionary tale. “You may want to sit down for this.” Grunting, I stand until he starts. “I was young and stupid. I didn’t think a little alcohol was a problem for me until the accident.”
“What accident?” I walk over and lean over a chair at the conference table, urging him to continue.
“About thirteen years ago, sorry twelve and a half, I was driving north on route 101 toward Gold Beach.”
“You were drunk?” I ask, my heart feeling as though it is beating hard to get outside of my chest.
“Oh, honey, I was blitzed out of my mind. I’d been dumped by my girlfriend. She was cheating on me with my best friend and ran off with him. I had another friend who promised a stash of pot to forget my woes. All I had to do was drive up the coast to his place.”
“I think I need to sit down.” It’s a terrible movie playing in slow motion as Oscar Campbell gives me the details of that night. My body slumps down into the conference chair and my legal pad in front of me collects notes. It’s a night he regrets and would sooner forget, and one that burns a hole in my chest because of the unwanted knowledge I now have. Oscar Campbell caused the accident that killed Roman’s mother.
“Didn’t you feel sorry? Didn’t you want to come forward after it all happened?” Rage seethes through me, but I’m stuck with this client. I try to rack my brain for a way to recuse myself, to give up the case. There is no way I can be partial now. I will just have to come forward, come clean myself and tell my dad I can’t do it. Let him fire me, let him do his worst, but don’t make me betray Roman by having to harbor this knowledge.
“At the time, honestly, I was scared shitless. I was so messed up that night that when I came to at my friend’s place I was shocked I made it over the bridge at Rogue River. It wasn’t until days later when I read the paper and saw they were looking for a truck that hit that poor woman’s car. I never did forgive myself.”
“But you never came forward either…” I let the statement hang between us like a tightening noose. “What am I supposed to do with this information now?”
“Well, I’m thinking I’d like to confess. I’m a man addicted to alcohol and no 28 day rehab facility is going to fix me.”
“So you think jail is the answer?” I’m dumbfounded and, honestly, if there was alcohol in this office, I can say with certainty I’d have a drink right now.
“I’m not saying I want to go to jail, Ms. Holliday, but I need to clear my conscious and do the right thing. You see, I keep drinking because I keep playing that night over and over in my head. It’s nothing but a big black hole. I reckon I may not ever remember what happened, but it’s that memory of something that keeps drawing me back to the bottle. I figure if I confess, those dreams that haunt me will finally give me some peace and maybe forgiveness.”
“All right, um, I’ll need you to make a statement, have it notarized, and then I’ll have to contact the District Attorney and see how they want to handle this.”
“Do you think I could make restitution of some sort? To the family?” Mr. Campbell is sincere, but my patience is tapped.
“First of all, vehicular homicide is a class A felony in both California and Oregon where it occurred.”
“What does that mean?” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I pray for the floor to swallow me up.
“It means there is no statute of limitations. These are serious charges you are alleging, Mr. Campbell, so I have to advise you of the possible ramifications. Its anywhere from zero to maybe twenty years behind bars, and we still have your current charges to deal with on top of that.”
“Will you still defend me, Ms. Holliday? I can’t imagine doing this without you.” And hurt Roman beyond repair? I don’t know if I have much of anything left in me at this point. My phone, which has been sitting on top of the table all this time like a guilty eavesdropper, begins ringing with Roman’s ringtone—another melody from REO Speedwagon, “Keep On Loving You”—I chose just for him. I seriously wonder if Roman could keep loving me if he knew I’m about to take this secret with me to the grave. Fucking professional ethic all that jazz. I click the button to ignore the call, feeling a wave pull me under, afraid I might not be able to get back up and breathe again from the undertow’s force.
A knock on the door interrupted us as Mr. Campbell waits for my answer. Lucas pops his head in the office, a coy smile on his face. “Ready to go meet Leah at the spa?”
A rage overcomes me and I shout back uncharacteristically, “Not fucking now, you damn prick. I’m with a goddamn client!” My legal pad zooms across the room, hitting the door and narrowly missing Lucas. Mr. Campbell startles and I swear the bobby pins in my bun spring free from the tension.
“Well, then…I’ll meet you there. Looks like you could use a massage or something.” Lucas mumbles through the door. I could use a lot of things the way Lucas provokes me and try not to think of anything criminal.
“Any more confessions you’d like to share today, Mr. Campbell?” I straighten my suit abjectly, ignoring my spat of unprofessionalism.
“No, Ms. Holliday.”
“Good, please see our receptionist out front for an appointment later this week to go over your statement.” Mr. Campbell scurries out of the room and I wonder if I have finally lost my mind. I’m caught between a rock and a hard place with nothing good to come from any of this. May God forgive me. May Roman someday forgive me or maybe never learn of this.
Sitting back down, I pick up my phone and send Roman a text message.
Hey, sailor, sorry I missed your call. I was in a client meeting. On my way now to meet Leah at the salon and spa for our appointment.
Roman: I hope you’re not working too hard. Enjoy the spa. I’m at the bar with Gary watching a Seahawks game. Missing you, Hollywood. xoxo
Missing you more.
Roman: Impossible.
And isn’t that the crux of it all….
Chapter Eighteen
ROMAN
A month.
Another fucking month without her. An entire span of thirty-one days and thirty lonely nights without her, doing the same shit day in and day out to make the time pass. I don’t know what is starting to hurt more, the ache in my chest or my empty arms at night with nothing to hold except a cold deflated pillow. Abby is the other half of my soul, the good half of my mirror that shows all the potential in life just waiting for us. She is my gift despite my fuck-ups as an unruly teen and an angry young man, which I don’t deserve and refuse to question.
I can’t wait to get back to her. After the last screw up at the marina, I decided
to take off and head back to Gold Beach before I made another long-ass drive to California, cruising in Abby’s sporty little car. I can’t wait to see her face light up when I reunite my baby with her Platinum Platypus.
Using the hands free mode in my truck, I call Maddie to let her know I am on my way back to Gold Beach. October is a pretty time of year along the coast, if a bit rainy and cool. Not much can be done about that, and I focus instead on the long stretches of highway miles slowly diminishing between us. In less than forty-eight hours, I will see Hollywood again. I’ll hold her in my arms and make crazy love to every part of her I can get my hands on. By the time I roll up to my house, I see Maddie sitting on the porch with a cup of tea in her hands and Bella sitting at attention next to her. I park my truck and hop out, grabbing my duffle bag over my shoulder.
Woof! Woof! Woof! Bella dances around my feet, excitedly half jumping in greeting and spraying sand in the air with her paws.
“I swear that dog doesn’t belong to Darrell the way she hangs out here.” Maddie gets up from her spot and hugs me, kissing my cheek. “So good to see you, Roman.”
“Glad to be back, even if it’s just briefly.” Walking inside my house, she surprises me in her usual Maddie way. The kitchen is lit up and prepared dishes of food cover my kitchen counter. “Busy?” She never ceases to amaze me with her generosity. Pleasant smells comfort my empty belly.
“For my favorite part-time resident? Never busy.” Maddie’s cheeks dimple like plump apples from up state.
“I needed this, thank you.” I pick up the lid and find a nice chicken stew with dumplings bubbling away. Grabbing myself a bowl, I dig in to the hearty fare, and Maddie hands me a freshly opened beer from my fridge.
“How is she, Roman? You never did say what’s been keeping her away.” She continues to putter around my kitchen, using a towel to clean up the counter that already shown from her care.
Blowing on the hot soup before taking a spoonful, I respond between bites of food that melt in my mouth. “Complicated things. Her job, Dad, and mostly her sister now. She has cancer. Stage III, and Abby is beside herself with worry.”
Gripping my arm, she says, “Oh, my heavens, Roman. I’ll say my prayers for her and mention it in church this week. How awful.” I take my bowl and walk away, pacing and eating small bites.
“Yeah. I don’t really know what I’m going to find when I get there. I’m kind of scared, actually. This is all kind of new for me.” We’re looking out the large windows listening to the surf when Maddie speaks again.
“Scared of what?” She comes to me and puts her hand over my arm, stilling me from eating my worries away temporarily.
“I’m scared she won’t be the same girl I met here and fell in love with. I’m scared she won’t love me back. I’m scared I don’t know what love really is…” Maddie rubs my arm reassuringly and goes to the refrigerator, pulling out love in a dish… a turtle pie.
It’s my favorite and quite possibly the reason I let Maddie get away with giving me her sage advice, whether I always want it or not.
“Roman Winters, that girl loves you more than anything else. She just needs you to be there for her. Anything in life worth loving is worth taking the risk for. Love was never meant to be an easy journey; otherwise, you’d never appreciate falling so hard. Nobody knows what love is because words can’t describe that crushing feeling in your chest when you miss someone or how their scent leaves you turning around in places just for a glimpse of them when they’re gone. God, or whatever higher power you believe in, my dear, is giving you the opportunity to learn what love is.” She taps me on the shoulder and I know she’s got my back on this.
“I know that here,” I say, pointing to my chest, rubbing the ache in my heart from not having Abby right here with me these past few weeks. “But the rest—” I wave my hand in the air, trying to hold back the lump in my throat “—God, that’s the hard part. Every day apart and every phone call just makes the aching worse.”
“Roman, that’s exactly what love is.”
“It’s like a sickness. The fucking flu.” I flick through the mail on my counter, tossing most of the junk.
“Now who is being dramatic?” Clucking, Maddie goes about my kitchen doing her thing.
“It sucks; that’s all I know,” I say, grumping, and grabbing a fork to dig into my pie. The heavy ceramic plate is like a brick of happiness-laden calories. My mouth waters with the chocolate and caramel pecan goodness awaiting me in the oatmeal cookie crust.
Maddie slaps my hand before I can stick my fork into the pie. “Being miserable doesn’t give you carte blanche to eat like a Neanderthal.” Shaking her head, she opens a drawer, pulling out a pie cutter I didn’t know I even owned.
“Huh. Did you sneak this into my kitchen?” I pick up the pie cutter, examining the foreign kitchen utensil.
Smirking, she looks me over. “No, Roman, the calorie elves did. You want to keep your trim figure for your fancy girl in LA, don’t you?” Teasing me, she pinches the taut skin of my abs through my T-shirt.
“Oww,” I complain, rubbing my abused stomach. “Abby loves me just the way I am.” I cut myself an extra-large piece of pie and wonder where I put my pair of sneakers somewhere in the house. A run on the beach before I drive to LA might be needed, you know… to clear my head and all.
“Exactly, my dear. Sleep well, Roman.” Maddie pats my cheek affectionately and kisses me before leaving. “Come on, Bella. I’ve got to call Darrell to come pick you up, you hussy.” Bella lifts her head from the floor, whining before following Maddie out of my house and along the rocky path back to her own. Just one more day until I see her. I don’t know how the hell I’m going to sleep tonight. I look back over to the pie, fantasizing about the rich treat. The only thing better than pie would be an entirely different sort of treat that only my girl could give me, but not tonight. Sighing deeply, I shake the thoughts off and cup myself, hoping to calm the physical response. I will seriously never get to sleep now with thoughts like this coupled with the sugar coursing through my veins from the decadent pie.
* * * * *
Morning proves to be a slight balm. I wake before the sun is up and grabbed a pair of sweats left in my dresser drawer. Sneakers are in my closet, luckily, so I grab them, making my way outside to the beach. The tide is low this morning as I run close to the water’s edge, sand slapping against the soles of my sneakers with each step on the wet, hard-packed surface. I likely won’t be back in Gold Beach for a while if I’m taking care of Abby in LA. Luckily, my business can be run just about anywhere I am with a few exceptions needing my personal attention. I plan to just fly home for those things and then back to be where Abby needs me most.
Frothy waves push against the sand grains, gaining ground on the beach, but don’t hinder my stride. I let myself cover three solid miles up the beach as the sun crests the ocean skyline. Oranges and early morning golds catch reflections off clouds on the surface of the water. Heading back to my house, pushing harder, I need this to ground me as Abby tests my resolve. My hope is the girl who let me in to get to know her is still there. None of this will be real if she becomes some flashy version corrupted by work and superficial influences. I make quick work of things in the shower before packing up some of Maddie’s food in a cooler to bring with me. I’m not leaving a half-eaten turtle pie alone in my fridge to die a cold death.
Maddie leaves Abby’s car keys on her counter, so I jog over to the house is an easy trip, grabbing her car and driving it back to get my things. Packing is easy, another duffle bag and then I set out on the road. I’ve never actually been to LA before, so I don’t know what to expect driving down the coastal highway watching the landscape slowly change. It’s interesting to find myself sitting inside Abby’s car taking the route back that she had originally taken to meet me. I have hours of driving to think non-stop before the city looms before me. I haven’t bothered to text or call Abby, because I want to surprise her. Our past phone conversations ha
ven’t been the best and we need to remedy that quick.
I don’t drive straight to Abby’s condo like I originally planned. Vinnie keeps me up to date on where she is, not because I’m a creepy boyfriend. I just feel better knowing what kind of long hours she’s pulling between work and taking care of her sister.
I know she is working today at her dad’s office before visiting her sister as she does daily. Knowing she’s there and hurting emotionally gives me a sense of her frame of mind when I call her at night. I want to get a lay of the land first, scope out my competition, although really there is none that I’m going to allow to get between us. I drive past her dad’s office building. It’s as pretentious as I figured it would be. Next I drive past her sister’s condo. It’s just as pretentious, but has an element of cool detachment, which is how Abby described Leah from the beginning.
I park the car across the street and watch Vinnie pull up to the curb. He waits for Abby to exit her sister’s condo and I watch their heartfelt exchange, along with Lucas, the douche-canoe, say goodbye to her. Her arms are loaded with her briefcase and files she carries to the car. A tired expression mars her beautiful face and I feel guilt waiting to take her in my arms to relive her of her burdens just yet. Vinnie helps her in and drives toward her condo. I followed them at a sedate pace when my phone chimes with a text.
Vinnie: Sir, would like me to pull over so you may collect your precious cargo?
Vinnie has an eloquent way with words given he was an ex-boxer and bodyguard from Chicago with a past drug and alcohol addiction.
No, but if you text me again while driving, I might have to let you go.
Vinnie doesn’t reply and I’m grateful he’s keeping an eye on the road. I stop the car up the street from where her condo is and wait for Abby to get inside before meeting Vinnie on the curb.