All I'll Ever Need

by Harry Kraus

  “What’s the next step?”

  “There will be a preliminary hearing in six weeks. There, a judge will decide if there’s enough evidence to dismiss the case or certify the case to the grand jury.”

  “How likely is that?”

  “Unless we can find some other evidence, it’s very likely he won’t want to dismiss. It’s not a popular move for a judge to dismiss sexual assault cases out of hand. So then it goes to the grand jury. If they decide there is enough evidence, they can return an indictment. Then it becomes a formal charge document.”

  John slumped another inch. “What’s the likelihood of that?”

  “Around the courthouse we have a saying, John. In Virginia, you could indict a ham sandwich.”

  “You’re not encouraging me, Bill.” He stood up and began pacing the paneled law office. His fingers trailed along hundreds of texts on the shelves. “What am I to do?”

  “You say this girl has been e-mailing you?”

  “Daily. Multiple times a day.”

  “Has it stopped since her accusation?”

  “I haven’t checked.”

  “Well, check. If she keeps it up, save them. We’ll need to document all of her communication. If you can retrieve some from the trash on your computer, do it.”

  “Okay.” He paused, then asked, “If this goes all the way and I lose a court case, what am I looking at?”

  William Fauls shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”

  Della sat in the rocking chair next to Wally’s bed listening to his legs whistle across the sheets. She knew he didn’t feel like talking. In the last two visits all he said was “I want to die,” and even that was garbled. Sometimes it sounded as if Wally’s tongue was too fat for crisp diction. Other times it seemed he just had too much spit to speak through. She thought it was because he had a hard time swallowing, so he just let it build up. The problem with that was that eventually it all ran to the back of his throat, a setup for an explosion of coughing, or if he tried to speak, he would spit with every syllable. It was best to talk and stand back or risk a spray with every word.

  Della slowly told her husband about Claire and John, listening to him choke his objections to her reports of John’s reckless and unfaithful behavior. “I know,” she said. “It seems so unlike John. We’ll just have to support Claire through this.”

  “Best for them not to marry.” Wally’s sentence was garbled, but understandable. “With H-h-huntington’s it’s too hard.”

  Della helped him slurp some thickened lemonade, and then sat back in the rocking chair to rest.

  Sweat glistened on his forehead. His hair smelled of sweat. She would talk to the nurse’s aide about washing it. But she knew how Wally could be. Sometimes he refused his own care, a situation that quickly became a touchy problem. How much autonomy should a patient be given when they have just given up and don’t care anymore? Should a patient be forced to eat if they can’t feed themselves and they don’t want to eat? Should they be forced to bathe if they don’t want to wash?

  She stood and held his head still between her hands. She kissed the top of his head. “You need to let them wash your hair, Wall.”

  “I want to die.”

  Della wiped spit from her left cheek and bit her bottom lip. “Don’t say it. You know I can’t help you.”

  “Cl – cl – claire can help. Dr – dr – drug me.”

  “Oh, Wally.”

  She sat back down and rocked for a few minutes, but his words hung like a thick fog between them. What would be the harm in helping him die? He would be out of his misery, and she could get on with her life.

  I could get on with a life of guilt if I helped him go.

  She couldn’t make light conversation after his request. And talking about it made her want to cry. So instead, she got up and left. At the door, she tried to be cheery, but she sounded as plastic as a credit card. “Bye, honey. See you in a few days.”

  It was a full week after their interrupted dinner and thirty unreturned e-mails later when Claire decided she should talk to John.

  She stood in the backyard staring at the mountains, the phone in her right hand and a Kleenex at the ready in the other. “I need to hear your side of the story.”

  “She came into my office. I had her sit down. I told her that I thought she should find other work.”

  “Just like that?”

  “I asked her why she had called you in the middle of the night, claiming to be with me.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Nothing really. She said you can’t blame a girl for trying. I told her we were engaged. I told her I didn’t think she should be working with me.”

  “So why didn’t you tell me what she did? You just told me she had resigned.”

  “She did resign, Claire. I was going to tell you, but the whole thing was so crazy, I wanted to tell you in person, and before I had the chance, the police came and — ”

  “Okay, okay,” she interrupted. “What I really need to know is what happened.”

  “I was trying to confront her about the inappropriateness of her behavior. She came around to my side of the desk. Then she ripped open her blouse and pulled me down on top of her. She started screaming. In a second it seemed like everyone was there assuming the worst.”

  Claire didn’t know what to say. She wanted to believe him, but she had heard a completely different story from two of John’s office workers.

  “You need to believe me. I didn’t attack her. You know she’s unstable. Just look at her medical record.”

  “I’m not basing my opinion on what she said. I — Well, I talked to Bob and Carol from your office.”

  “They only know what Ami told them. They didn’t see her attack me.”

  “John, the police investigated this. They don’t just arrest someone without any evidence.”

  “It’s her word against mine. They have no evidence.”

  She took a deep breath. Do I really know you? Your accident seems to have changed you more than I imagined. “I don’t want to argue with you. I don’t have the energy anymore. I just need some space. I need to concentrate on my medical practice right now.”

  “That’s been your MO all along, hasn’t it, Claire? When something gets out of hand, you just avoid it by working hard. It worked when you didn’t want to think about Huntington’s disease, didn’t it? Well, it’s not going to work with this, because too much is at stake.”

  “Like going to jail?”

  “Like losing you.”

  She closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry. “I’ve got to go, John. I’m sorry.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Two weeks later, John Cerelli was feeling the pressure from his upcoming preliminary hearing. Predictably, Carol had placed him on official leave pending the outcome of his legal trouble. Bill Fauls, John’s attorney, had made little progress with finding anything that could help. The best John could hope for was a lenient grand jury, but the chances of that in Virginia were slim to none. He suspected that if it went to trial, it could get very ugly with his attorney trying to bring up Ami’s unstable past. Everyone was going to end up losing, with John leading the way.

  Finally, he decided to follow through with moving on. He needed to make some cancellations for the wedding. His first stop was an out-of-the- way video store where he found a geekish young man in a white shirt soldering a wire onto the back of a speaker.

  “Hi,” he began. “I’m here to cancel a reservation for a wedding videographer.”

  The man looked up. “Name?”

  “Cerelli.” John watched him paging through his calendar. “It might be under the name McCall. Look under the May bookings.”

  He flipped a page. “Here it is. Want to change the date?”

  John sighed. “No, the whole thing’s off for now.” He scuffed his shoe against the floor. “Things haven’t exactly gone according to plan.”

  The guy looked up from his scheduling book, then lea
ned closer with his eyes narrowing.

  John wiped his chin. What, is there something on my face?

  “Oh man, you’re the dude in the video.” He shook his head.

  “Excuse me?”

  The guy started nodding as if a lightbulb had just switched on. “You’re Claire McCall’s boyfriend, right?”

  John didn’t understand. “Right. We were engaged.”

  The man held out his hand. John shook it. “I’m Josh. Maybe we should talk.”

  “I – I don’t understand.”

  Josh sat on the edge of a crowded desk. “Tell me why your engagement is off.”

  “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  “Does it have something to do with another woman? Someone at work, perhaps?”

  This was feeling too creepy. What did this guy know about him? “Maybe. But that’s my business. I don’t see how my relationship problems involve you.”

  “I have something to show you,” he said, motioning for John to follow him into a back room. He flipped on a TV and popped in a videotape. “The image here is a bit grainy. But it’s the best we can get with the small spy camera.”

  “Spy camera?”

  “Yep. Your girlfriend rented this unit,” he said, pointing to a potted plant on the shelf. “But she brought it back and wouldn’t even look at what we got for her.” He paused. “I bet I’ve watched this fifty times. This girl is so hot.”

  Josh pressed “play” and stepped back so John could see. The image was rounded at the edges and his face a bit blurry, but recognizable.

  “Wait,” John said. “Where’s the camera?”

  “In a plant. It looks like she put it on the edge of the desk. Too bad it’s focused on you. I wish I could see the girl’s face.” He chuckled. “’Cause the rest of her is amazing. Just watch.”

  “Did you call Claire McCall when we were in Richmond and claim to be with me?”

  The next voice was from off camera and female. “You were with me.”

  “But we weren’t together at three in the morning. You’re getting me in trouble.”

  “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

  Ami? John shook his head. “It sounds like we’re in a tunnel. That doesn’t even sound like me.”

  Josh snapped off the tape and sighed. “Okay, the audio’s not great, but it’s our intro-level model. The audio is better on the more expensive one.” He tapped his fingers on the top of the box. “Just watch, okay?” He pressed the play button again.

  “Ami, you are crossing a line. We are professionals. We aren’t in a relationship outside work.”

  “Maybe I want more. You!”

  “I’m engaged.”

  “But you’re not married.”

  “I think you should look for other work. It isn’t working out for you to be so close to me.”

  “I get it. You don’t want to dip your pen in the ink at work. If I quit, we can date.”

  “No, we aren’t dating!”

  “John.” Ami appeared for the first time as she came around to the front of the desk. She was visible from behind and the image cut off half of her head. “I know you have feelings for me. You blush every time I whisper in your ear.”

  “I’m a man.” He pushed back from his desk and cleared his throat.

  Good, John thought, his hope rising. It shows me moving away.

  “I’ve noticed.” The camera caught her sitting on his desk, facing him, her skirt pushing higher on her thighs. “John, Claire McCall isn’t worth your time. What was it you told me when I first came? You said you were on a roller-coaster with your girlfriend. I’ d never treat you like that. I’m ready to meet your needs.”

  In the video, John shook his head, but she stopped the rotation of his head with her hand against his chin.

  “Look at me.”

  John watched the image of himself as the man in the video lifted his chin away from her hand. “No, this isn’t right. You don’t know me. You’re obsessed.”

  “Obsession with a good thing isn’t a crime, John.” She brushed her knee against his thigh.

  John saw that he seemed to be looking around Ami for someone in the hall.

  “You really want me to quit? This is the best job I’ve ever had.”

  In the video John diverted his eyes from her legs. “I think it’s best.” He hesitated, then looked up at her face, trying to avoid her skirt.

  Josh pointed to the screen. “This is my favorite part.”

  “You don’t want to reject me, John.”

  “I — , I — ”

  “Don’t do this to me, darling.”

  “You’re not — ”

  “Shh, you don’t want to break my heart. Not now. I’ve been through too much. We’re together, you and I, my darling John.”

  “No.” The camera showed John pulling his face away. “I’m sorry.”

  “No,” she whispered, shaking her head with a quick little bob. “No,” she said, a little louder.

  John shook his head, matching her movement. “We can’t be together.”

  She turned up the volume. “No. Don’t do this.”

  Josh slapped John on the shoulder and pointed at the screen again. “Here it comes. This is great.”

  Her hands traced the angles of her slender neck down to the lapels of a silk blouse. Her grip tightened. Suddenly, she ripped open her blouse, sending buttons bouncing from the office walls. She quickly unfastened her bra and pulled her blouse from her skirt.

  John stood, off balance, and mouth agape.

  Ami lunged forward, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him forward onto the desk and on top of her. John’s body could be seen as the woman pulled his shirt from his pants.

  Watching the video, John blushed. The video never showed her from the front, but it clearly revealed the woman as the aggressor.

  On screen, the woman screamed.

  Off balance, John began to pull away. “Ami, stop!”

  The image bounced and blurred, then froze on an image of the leg of a chair in the room. The audio continued, but John had seen enough.

  “Tell me again how you got this.”

  “Your girlfriend planted the camera in your office.” He shook his head and nudged John’s shoulder. “I only wish I’d have had your view of things.” He squinted at John. “Why are you smiling, man? I’d be pissed if my girl — ”

  John shook his head. “Can I have a copy of this?”

  “Sure,” he said, shrugging. “Give me a few minutes.”

  Josh popped the tape and slid it into a second machine. John walked out front and waited. Five minutes later, he paid for the tape and walked toward the door before turning again. “Hey, keep us on for the first Saturday in May. You may have just saved my engagement.”

  John needed to get the tape to Bill Fauls as the evidence he needed to convince a judge to dismiss the accusations against him. But more important to John was to confront Claire with the images and win back her trust.

  That evening, just as the sky was beginning to color, John knocked on the door of the McCall home. He knew Claire was home. Her VW bug was in the driveway.

  Della opened the door, leaving the screen to separate them. “Hello, John.”

  “Hi, Della,” he said, straining to see around her. “I need to see Claire.”

  She shook her head. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. She’s trying her best to move on.”

  “I have something she needs to see.”

  Della didn’t look convinced.

  “She’ll want to see this,” he said, holding up the videotape.

  Della held out her hand, but John didn’t want to surrender the tape and leave. “I need to watch it with her.”

  Della put her hands on her hips. “John, I — ”

  Claire interrupted, coming up from behind her mother. “What’s going on?”

  “Claire! You need to see this. It’s the evidence I needed to prove I’m telling the truth!”

  The look on her face told
John she didn’t understand.

  “You bugged my office with a spy camera!”

  She held up her hands. “I was jealous.”

  “I’m not blaming you. I may not like the idea, but you need to look at this.”

  John watched as mother and daughter exchanged glances. “Okay,” Claire said, “Come in.”

  John smiled. “Why didn’t you tell me you had my office bugged?”

  Claire looked down. “I was ashamed, John. I never even looked at the tape.” She walked forward and stood in front of the TV.

  He went straight to the TV and pushed the video into the front slot on the VCR. “Just watch. This is exactly what happened, and your spy cam recorded it all.”

  John watched their reactions as the video played. Claire’s hand went to her mouth as she mumbled, “Why, that snake!” She shook her head, dismayed. “I’d already turned the camera in before I heard about the accusations. Then after asking Bob Estes about it, I didn’t want to see it.”

  By the end of the video Claire was crying. “Oh, John, I’m so sorry.”

  He smiled. His world was right again.

  Claire fell into his arms. After a moment, he pushed her away and dug her engagement ring from his pocket.

  “Here,” he said, slipping it on her finger, “let’s get married.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The winter passed quickly in the Apple Valley thanks in part to Claire’s growing medical practice and to the need to squeeze wedding preparations in between everything else. John’s case was dismissed at the preliminary hearing after a backroom meeting between William Fauls and the judge. They shared a cigar and a laugh during the closed-door session in which the judge watched the tape four times. Ami Grandle slipped from John’s radar, having resigned her position after the truth came to light.

  The McCall family troubles seemed to reach status quo. Margo kept attending church and wondering what was bugging Kyle, who had grown more and more withdrawn. A bout of pneumonia nearly took Wally to his eternal reward, but somehow, to his dismay and Della’s, he survived. Della kept faithfully visiting, her patience wearing thin as he recovered from pneumonia only to revive his requests to die. Jimmy Jenkins kept visiting, the rumble of his Harley Davidson now a familiar sound as it thundered down the byways of the country around Stoney Creek. Della said no to his invitation to the county medical society Christmas dinner, no to an invitation to a winter gala fundraiser by the United Way, and maybe to an invitation to an upcoming spring concert at Brighton University.