by Jamie Beck
Not with the homes.
“Surprisingly, no. Basic stuff . . . limbs to clear and so forth. Signal Hill was blocked, so we hiked up to get to the Harris home. I suspect that road will be cleared tonight. Only a few places lost power, but all backup generators were running. I’ll check them again tomorrow and confirm that power is restored.”
His taut expression loosened in obvious relief. “Thanks for picking up the slack. I hate being sidelined for another few weeks.”
As if she didn’t know. Her father’s desperation for recovery showed in everything he did. Even Cami had warned him to lighten up a bit, which hadn’t gone over well. Sighing, Gabby hobbled to the nearest chair and sank into the cushions.
“What happened to you?” Her father frowned.
“Twisted my ankle while clearing some heavy branches.” Gabby set her foot on the coffee table to keep it elevated. “It’ll be fine in another hour or two. Was Cami here today for therapy?”
“Yes.” He tugged at his ear, scowling. “Slow going, but at least it’s going. I know I got lucky with the so-called moderate aftereffects, but I hate being stuck here like an invalid. Worse, though, is thinking about what could’ve happened to you and Luc if my stroke had caused more damage.”
“If Jackson weren’t here, I’d have had to hire extra help. Probably would’ve had to pull Luc out of nursery school to pay for it.” Gabby shot him a rueful smirk. “Let’s be grateful for your recovery, and for Jackson’s help.”
Her father nodded. “We should refund what’s left of his rent, actually. I don’t like being a charity case, or feeling indebted.”
Although her dad had the right idea, she suspected Jackson would be offended by the gesture. “I’m not sure he’d appreciate the offer. It might even offend him.”
“Oh?” He snorted. “You’ve really got him up on a pedestal, don’t you?”
“Hardly.” Naturally he’d reduce her concern to something silly and naïve instead of considering its merit. “But helping us is making him feel good about himself. I think it’s been a while since he felt that way, so I don’t want to take it away from him, that’s all.”
“My business, my call.”
Great. Father knows best should be stamped across his forehead. Fine. Maybe he could control that decision, but he couldn’t control her. “Speaking of calls, I’ve decided to talk to Mom.”
“Why?” Her dad huffed and raised his hands toward the ceiling. “Why would you let that woman back into your life?”
“Because ‘that woman’ is my mom. I’m curious, Dad, and I want some answers.” Then she wrinkled her nose. “And, honestly, probably a little bit because you took the choice away from me before.”
“Not that again.” He shook his head. “While you’re busy judging me, think about what you’d do to protect Luc from an unbalanced, unhealthy person.” His features softened. “In case you’ve forgotten, your mother’s leaving sent you into a tailspin. You shoved your hurt down deep—covered it with a smile and some teenage rebellion—but it killed me to know you got a raw deal because I’d waited too long to draw that line with your mother. Think back and remember living through years of her highs and lows, of her lies. I didn’t trust her when she first wrote, and I don’t trust her now. That’s not bitterness talking, it’s concern and experience, plain and simple. Please don’t open yourself up to pain and aggravation. And don’t expose Luc to her kind of poison.”
Seeing her father’s remorse and genuine sorrow deflated Gabby’s animosity.
“Maybe that’s all true, but I can’t live with the unanswered questions now that she’s reached out. I have to see her, but I won’t take Luc.” She offered a compassionate smile. “I’m sorry if this upsets you, but it’s my choice. I know all the awful things she did, and how much she hurt us both, Dad. But, she’s my mom. Somewhere under all those drugs is that woman who loved me. The woman we both loved.
“The fact she’s reached out before proves that she didn’t coldly walk away and never look back. That she had regrets. I can’t pretend I don’t care at all if I ever see her again. And you always taught me to give people a second chance. What if Mom’s been working hard at being clean? Maybe she deserves a chance to prove she’s changed.”
Her father shook his head in resignation. “If I had a dime for every chance I gave her, I could retire.”
Gabby’s shoulders slumped in response to his fatalistic opinion. Luckily, the doorbell put an end to the discussion. “That’ll be Noah and Luc. I’ll get it.”
A quick glance at her dad’s unfocused gaze suggested he’d already vacated the room even though his body remained in his chair.
When she opened the door, she found Noah holding Luc in his arms. The uncommon sight made her breath catch, and forced her to acknowledge the similarity in the shape of their faces. She reached for her son. “Thanks, Noah. I had a long day today, so this really helped.”
Noah smiled the old familiar smile that used to turn her insides to jelly. Although hesitant to give Noah credit for much, she did have to admit that he had been trying a little harder recently with Luc, and with her. If she were willing to hand out second chances to her mom, maybe she could also dial back her sarcasm and be friends with her son’s father.
She kissed Luc’s cheek. “Did you have fun in Daddy’s car?”
“Dada put on the wed-and-blue lights!”
Gabby widened her eyes in feigned excitement. “Oh, my! That sounds like fun.” She set Luc down and he galloped down the hallway calling for his pappy.
“Gabby, can we talk for a second?” Noah had removed his hat and was holding it in front of his body. He jerked his head to the left. “Out here?”
“What’s up?” She stepped onto the porch and cast a furtive glance toward the garage, wondering if Jackson could see her and Noah.
Noah fidgeted with his holster and flashed an awkward grin. For the first time in ages, he wasn’t acting like the cock of the walk. “Guess I’ll just— Aw, hell, Gabs. I’ve made mistakes, and I could’ve been—could be—a better dad. A better guy for you. We both know I wasn’t ready before, but now, well, now I feel like I could be.” He must’ve read the utter dismay in her eyes, because he cleared his throat before bumbling toward the finish line. “I guess what I’m trying to say is—what I’m hoping is—since you’re not involved with anyone, and since I am Luc’s dad, maybe you’ll let me try to put our family back together. Try to make it work this time.”
Gabby would’ve sworn her jaw had dropped to the ground, but a quick touch with her hand proved it hadn’t. Although she’d just argued the virtues of giving him a second chance of sorts, the walls of her heart hardened against Noah’s suggestion. “Noah, I . . . you’ve surprised me. Forgive me if I’m a little skeptical.”
“Are you really? You know you’ve always been my favorite girl. This really can’t be a complete shock.”
“If I’ve always been your favorite, then why’d you need Linda, Jessie, Annie—”
“Okay, okay. Stop!” Noah interrupted and chewed on his lip. “I was twenty-one when you got pregnant, and scared shitless, by the way. Nowhere close to being what you and Luc needed. I thought I could outrun the responsibility and all my mixed feelings. But no one else came close to you, Gabs. Not ever. Once I messed up, I was too proud to admit it. Then time passed, and you were so mad and hurt—as you should’ve been. I suppose I’m hoping now maybe enough time has passed that your anger has faded and we can talk.”
“So you’ve had this sudden epiphany?” Gabby shook her head, guessing that Jackson’s arrival on the scene had as much to do with this little show as any genuine change of heart. “Noah, whatever feelings I had for you are gone. Maybe a couple of years ago I could’ve found some leftover love in my heart, but now it’s too late.”
“Won’t you even give me a chance to prove I’ve changed?” He reached out to touch her arm. “Let me try to be a better guy for you, a better dad for Luc.”
“God help you i
f you use Luc to try to win me over. Right now he’s fine with the loose relationship you two have. Don’t you cozy up to him to try to convince me to give you another chance, and then go back to your casual regard when your ploy doesn’t work.”
“Wow.” Noah’s brows rose. “I see I’ve got a lot of work to do before you’ll take me seriously. This isn’t a ploy. I’m trying to be honest with you for the first time in years.”
Was he? Gabby couldn’t tell, and that was the problem. Even if she could erase the heartache he’d caused her and wanted to take him back, could she really trust him? At the end of the day, she didn’t believe he’d ever love anyone as much as he loved himself.
“Please, let this go. You’ll always be in our lives because you are Luc’s dad. We are a family, dysfunctional as we may be. Let’s let that be enough.”
“I won you over once.” Noah put his hat back on and rested his hands on his hips. “You can’t stop me from trying to do it again.”
“Then how about a word of advice.” She raised her brows. “Disregarding my feelings isn’t a great place to start.”
“That’s one of the things I love about you, Gabs. You always throw a straight punch.” He winked as if his charm would melt her defenses, then strode toward his car while gazing at the garage apartment window. He turned to her as he opened his car door. “I’m going to change your mind about me.”
Before she could beg him not to try, he slid into the front seat, closed the door, and fired up the engine.
Gabby sagged against the door, exhausted from the hard day’s work, the sore ankle, and the three arguments she’d had within the past forty-five minutes.
Jackson watched Noah’s patrol car pull away from the house. He hadn’t been able to see Gabby because she’d remained mostly hidden by the roofline of the front porch.
The nettling final words of his and Gabby’s earlier argument drifted back to him. Maybe sticking around to fight for someone isn’t in your DNA after all.
Bullshit, he thought. He fought for everyone. He’d fought for his mom when she’d been sick, he’d fought for his brother in those early months after David had run off to Hong Kong. He’d fought for his son or daughter until Alison hauled off to the clinic and disposed of their “mistake.” That still cut the deepest, as did the wondering about whether he might’ve had a son or a daughter.
Didn’t matter now, he supposed. The point was that he fought for people he loved. Right now he fought to protect himself and Gabby from pain. Too bad she didn’t understand that often in life the best offense is a good defense.
Jackson checked the time and then called David for the conference call with him and Oliver, the useless lawyer. While he waited for them to assemble, he wished to hell this suit with Doug would disappear. He had enough on his mind without having to kowtow to that son of a bitch.
“Jackson?” David’s voice came through the line.
“I’m here.” Jackson sat at the little table where he’d had a notebook and pen ready.
“Oliver will be another minute.”
“So I’m not getting billed for this part of the call,” Jackson joked, needing to lighten his mood.
“Not unless you piss me off.” David didn’t tease much, but Jackson could hear the affection in his tone. He’d wallowed in his hurt by David for so long, he’d forgotten about his brother’s good side. “Cat told me she spoke to you this morning.”
He’d suspected David and Cat were checking up on him and then checking in with each other. Gabby’s wistful remark about wishing for siblings replayed, forcing him to admit how lucky he was that they cared enough to do so.
“Yep.” Jackson stretched his legs out. “Now’s not the time for that discussion, though, if it’s okay with you.”
“Of course. Just know I’m here, whatever you need.”
“Thanks.” He twirled the pen in his fingers, unwilling to let his mind wander to thoughts of family therapy when he had so little emotional energy left in his tank.
“Ah, here’s Oliver,” David announced.
“Jackson, sorry for the delay.” Oliver’s deep staccato made Jackson edgy. He wished David specialized in litigation instead of corporate transactions, but at least he knew David would be looking over Oliver’s shoulder, too.
“No worries.” Jackson drew a breath. “I’m hoping you’ve got good news.”
“Unfortunately, not at this time. I’ve received interrogatories, and anticipate deposition notices soon.”
“In English, please.” Jackson rolled his eyes.
“Sorry. Basically, we’re now in the discovery phase of the suit. I’ve received pages of questions intended to provide them with evidence the plaintiff—er, Doug—can use to build his case. The depositions are basically interviews, most likely of the witnesses to the incident, but also potentially of some of your clients.”
Jackson bolted upright. “Why can he get to my clients? They weren’t on-site, nor do they have any say over my hiring and firing practices.”
“The problem is that the wrongful termination element of the suit, based on a skewed interpretation of retaliation, is Doug’s weakest claim, so the assault, infliction of emotional distress, and defamation claims will be the ones they push harder.”
“Defamation? He’s the one spreading tales about me and my work ethic, not the other way around.” Jackson’s palm slammed the table. “Why can’t I sue him?”
“If you recall, we did file counterclaims, but either way, there will be depositions unless we settle this before things escalate.”
“So he pops off his mouth to my crew, sues me, and then I’m the one stuck paying? No offense, guys, but the legal system sucks.” The silence from the other end of the line didn’t help Jackson’s mood.
David decided to chime in. “Jackson, you need to approach this with your head, not your heart. Fair and unfair don’t matter as much as your reputation, your business interests, everything you’ve built here. That’s all best served if you make a decisive move to end this nonsense before Doug gets the evidence he needs to improve his chances in court.”
“Dammit, there is no evidence.” But then Jackson recalled how Hank’s recollection of the incident differed from his own.
“I don’t think you should rely solely on your own testimony and memory to make that decision.” David hesitated. “Based on my off-book conversations with Hank, at the very least, Doug’s civil assault claim has legs.”
“You two want me to tuck tail?”
“No,” Oliver answered. “If you want to fight, we’ll fight. But what we’re telling you is that you should strongly consider what’s in your own best interest, and the interest of your other employees. My advice is to make a settlement offer, conditioned on Doug’s silence, of course.”
“Like we could ever enforce that!” Jackson scoffed.
“Admittedly, it isn’t perfect, but yours is a closed community. If you got wind of Doug talking, he’d have to return the money plus other costs.” Oliver then fell silent.
“But if he breaks his end of the deal, all the damage I’m seeking to avoid by paying him now would happen anyway.” Jackson rubbed his hand over his face.
“In all likelihood, he’ll take his money and abide by the terms,” Oliver said.
“So what, now I pick a number out of the air and pay the fucker?” Jackson doodled cash symbols across the notepad, then crossed them out.
David piped up. “What’s it worth to you to have this go away? To get this one item off your list of concerns and move forward?”
He wanted to shout “Nothing!” But he thought about Hank, Jim, Ray, and the new crew members. He thought about the years he’d already spent building the company and its reputation. He thought about the fact that recently he’d finally begun to feel better in his own skin, and better about the future. Maybe David was right. Maybe locking horns with that asshole wasn’t worth it.
“Jackson?” David asked again.
“You think a month’s sa
lary is fair?”
“What’s the number?” Oliver asked.
“Four grand.”
Jackson could hear them whispering. “I can hear you two conferring even if I can’t see you.”
Oliver cleared his throat. “Sorry. I was telling David I doubt that will be enough. Even if Doug were willing to accept it, which I doubt, his lawyer probably will aim higher because his compensation is a percentage of whatever he gets for his client.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“I don’t disagree, but I’m giving you my best counsel. Would you be willing to offer twenty-five grand to end this now? It’s well below your insurance limits.”
Twenty-five grand? Oliver must be a lunatic. It wasn’t only about the number, either. It was principle.
“Oliver, can I speak with my brother alone for a minute?” Jackson impatiently tapped his toes.
“Sure. I’ll step outside his office,” Oliver said.
“Thank you.” Jackson could hear papers shuffle and movement.
“He’s gone now. What’s up?” David asked.
“Do you agree with him?” Jackson snapped.
“About settling?”
“About the amount. I mean, that’s six months’ salary. Seems like a lot for a guy who got fired for trash-talking the boss.”
“I think the key is expediency. There’s a cost associated with getting this handled quickly. If you roll the dice and get hit with any kind of punitive damages on the assault charges, those won’t be covered by insurance and you could be in a tough spot. So while I get that you’re looking at this from the standpoint of ‘justice,’ now is the time for pragmatism, not idealism.”
Suddenly an overwhelming sense of defeat cascaded over Jackson. The darkness that had consumed him the past two years swelled up inside, squeezing his lungs. His mouth felt dry, and for the first time in days, he really wanted a drink. “Offer twelve grand. Not one penny more. That’s three months’ pay.”
“I’ll tell Oliver.” David paused. “I hate to say this now, but you should brace for a counteroffer.”
“Hell, David. Can’t Oliver make the other lawyer see reason? For crissakes, this is extortion.”