A Girl's Best Friend

by Kristin Billerbeck

  “You’re thinking about your father,” George says seriously.

  I nod, looking over my half-eaten hamburger, but having forgotten my appetite.

  “I think we can get your case separated, Morgan. Plead ignorance.” George dabs his napkin in water and wipes it across Georgie’s ketchup-laden mouth.

  “It’s too late. The grand jury is meeting tomorrow, and Daddy’s already planned his defense. Our defense. I can’t just let him take it alone.”

  George slams his hand on the table. “Why not? Why can’t you let your father take the rap for doing what he did? It was illegal, Morgan. If he pulled the trigger on the man, would you take the blame?”

  I open my mouth, but I can’t find words.

  “Come on, Mom. I’ve got to get home. I’m preparing a case for Morgan Malliard.”

  I don’t get up from the table. “Don’t do it, George. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Look at you, Morgan. You’re beautiful, you’re fabulous with kids, and you have more love for that stone of a man than I can possibly imagine. Do you know what that says about your character?”

  I smile up at him, “It says I’m an optimist.”

  “Who is acting very ignorant. I’ve seen the preliminary hearing information, Morgan. It’s obvious your dad did this.”

  I clutch my stomach, feeling a wave of nausea hit me, and I shake my head. “He wouldn’t.”

  George kneels beside me at the table, which makes everyone in the restaurant turn towards us as if he’s asking me to marry him. We’re in Denny’s, people. I may not have huge criteria for a fiancé, but I am adamant that I would deserve a better proposal than in Denny’s over a Swiss-mushroom burger that has just given me onion breath.

  “He did it, Morgan. I’ve seen the wire transfers. I’ve seen the illegal laundering of money. It’s not a mistake you’re named on this. It was a way your father could launder more money.”

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t believe that.”

  “Morgan, I have absolutely no reason to lie to you. None. Look into my eyes.”

  I search the deepness of his eyes, and I look at the happy giggles of Georgie as he roars and rips the feet off another dinosaur.

  “Fathers don’t allow their children to suffer. Normal fathers would give up everything to give their children more.”

  I force the lump in my throat away. I know what he says is true. I think about the letter from my mother, the harsh words from my father, and I know it’s true. “But if I separate on the lawsuit, even if the grand jury allows me such a luxury, I’m only piling more on my father, and I can’t do that. I’m the only one here to love him. If I’m not Jesus to him, who will be?”

  “Morgan, you can’t be a doormat and go to jail. Look at Georgie. Don’t you want to know what your child might look like? Don’t you want a chance to live your life?”

  I nod. “I do, but not at the expense of my dad.”

  George’s expression falls. “I understand.”

  But it’s clear he doesn’t. “I didn’t profit from any of that money, George. They can’t prove that I did. It will be fine.”

  “They can prove it, and they will unless you defend yourself and separate from your father.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t do that.”

  “Let’s go to the bathroom, Georgie.” Mrs. Gentry takes her grandson by the hand, and they leave me alone with this incredible man I want to trust with my whole heart, but can’t do at the risk of watching my father lose everything he worked for. I know the money is secondary to his reputation. This has to be killing him.

  “Why are you working so hard for him, Morgan? When are you going to believe the truth that he has brought you into this mess?”

  “I took advantage of it. I never questioned the money or what I was able to buy with it.”

  George gets back up and sits in the chair. “So what can I do?” He holds his hands out.

  “You can pray, George. We’ve only seen the preliminary ruling. The actual charges have to come down from the grand jury, and I’ll get my say tomorrow.” Inside, of course, I don’t feel nearly so confident, and when I see George and his family, I do know what I could be missing. To see how a normal family functions with love and laughter gives me pause like I hadn’t imagined.

  George has suffered, there’s no getting around it, but he has also come out victorious. I can only hope for as much grace as God bestowed upon him.

  I stand up, and I take his hand, “I hear you, George. I know you think I’m incredibly naïve, but I can’t destroy my father to save myself. I just can’t. He may not be the father that you are to Georgie, but I really do believe his motives were pure. He just got in over his head and was seduced by the money.”

  “You’re making excuses for him.”

  I nod. “I probably am. Say good night to Georgie and your mother for me.” I walk towards the door. George runs after me, and I turn to see him laying forty dollars and the bill at the cashier’s desk.

  “Morgan.”

  I walk outside under the cool fall night, and I pull my sweater around me tightly to ward off the damp. “You’re incredible, do you know? I believe you, George, if it makes any difference. I really do, but something inside me says I deserve this. I lived off this money and it’s time to pay the piper.”

  “Not the illegal stuff, don’t you see that? The illegal stuff was off in an offshore account somewhere.”

  “George.” I walk to him, stand before him and feel his breath, which clouds in the night’s cold air. I’m face to face with him. He can’t be any taller than me, and I suddenly feel so gawky and huge. I close my eyes, imagining what life could be like if I’d been born smarter, or into a family that played by normal rules. A family that didn’t think fat was a plague, and poverty a disease.

  His arms come around me, and he presses his lips against mine, and I feel the kiss through my entire frame.

  This is what it feels like to be loved.

  I pull the blue diamond off, easier now with the cold night shrinking my fingers, and I put the ring into his hand, closing his fingers around it.

  “Diamonds are most certainly not a girl’s best friend.” I reach up and I kiss his cheek and put my hand on his neck as I say good-bye. Inside the restaurant I see Georgie, and I feel my eyes welling up again as I turn away.

  “Morgan, the ring? What’s this about?”

  “Pick a better fiancée next time. That little boy in there deserves it.”

  I smile to myself as I walk toward the garage housing my car. Grand jury, here I come.

  The loft is dark and eerie as I arrive home, but I’m floating on a platinum-lined cloud. To kiss a man like George— someone who is capable of loving a person past their accomplishments— was an incredible feeling, however brief. He’s proof of grace. And while I might never see him again, the possibility is enough to keep me soaring upward. Although I’ve always known my father’s ways weren’t right, now I have proof positive of grace on earth, of action that I’ve heard spoken of for so many years in church. The knowledge that sometimes we don’t get what we deserve, and life isn’t all about living up to a perfect ideal. The beauty is often in the flaws.

  Speaking of flaws, Nate is outside the door when I get home. “Is Lilly coming home tonight?”

  “She’s staying at Max’s.”

  He whistles.

  “Her husband’s house. They got married.”

  He whistles again.

  “Can you let me in?” he asks.

  “Why?”

  “Kim says her driver’s license is in there.”

  “Kim?” I ask. “Would that be the Kim whose stuff you splattered all over the front steps?”

  “Passionately.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I threw it passion-kristin ately. She gave me an ultimatum. I don’t like to be challenged. No man wants to hear his days as a playboy are over.”

  “Clearly.”

  “But she was right, so we’re going to Reno tonight to get
married. Do you want to come be a witness?”

  “Doesn’t anyone have a real wedding anymore?”

  He shrugs. “I think it will help our relationship.”

  “Uh-huh,” I say, unconvinced. “I wish you the best, but I’ve got court tomorrow afternoon. I’m afraid weddings are off-limits for the time being.” Not to mention, if I showed up, it probably wouldn’t happen. I have a knack for canceling weddings.

  I open the door, and Nate goes for the refrigerator, where he pulls Kim’s driver’s license off the top. Of course, why wouldn’t it be on the top of a friend’s fridge?

  “Good luck tomorrow, huh? No hard feelings.” Nate holds his hand out to me, and I shake it.

  “Thanks, Nate. You, too.”

  He takes off, and I’m left to the quiet roar of Lilly’s loft. I guess it will be my loft soon. I take out the library of paperwork George left me with this afternoon, and see all the charges left to become formalized by a grand jury. I suppose we’re lucky we got a preliminary hearing. A typical grand-jury indictment can come down without any chance to defend yourself. At least I’ll get the opportunity, even if it’s nothing more than a glimmer of hope.

  I start to read all the words until my eyes are fuzzy, and there’s a knock at the door. I gather up the pages, stuff them into a nearby box, and look outside the peep hole. I can’t imagine who’d be here at this time of night.

  It’s Lilly and Max.

  “Why did you knock? It’s your house,” I say as I open the door.

  “We didn’t want to scare you. I came home to get a few things.” She snuggles into Max. “We’re moving in together. Like a normal married couple.”

  “You two will never be a normal married couple,” I laugh. “But I’m truly thrilled for you.”

  “At the end of the month, we’re having a connection celebration at the hotel.”

  “What is a connection celebration?”

  “Max’s mother wants to make sure everyone knows we’re already married so she’s come up with the name so she can announce our wedding date beforehand in the paper.”

  “Connection celebration? It sounds like you’re getting high-speed Internet service.”

  Max grins. “I think she thought it was better than my-young-stud-son-got-his-wife-pregnant-already celebration. It makes us sound less like farm animals this way.”

  “Not really,” I quip.

  “It’s November 28 at the Red & White Ball. You and Poppy will be there, and I’m making your gowns. I’m wearing the one I made for you. Mrs. Schwartz thought it would be a perfect place to announce our nuptials, and I can wear the white gown without questions beforehand.”

  “The one that’s been on the front of every newspaper in town, yet never made it down the aisle? That wedding dress.”

  “I can’t have my design name associated with a—” She stops for a minute. “Well, you know, no offense, but a failure wedding dress.”

  I scratch my head. “No offense taken.”

  “Is it still here? I’m going to take it in.”

  “Salt in the wound, Lilly.”

  “And sew some boobs in it, okay?”

  I laugh. “Okay. It’s a gorgeous dress.” I take it out of the closet, and allow my fingers to run over it one last time. “You’ll be a beautiful bride, Lilly.”

  “Hey, so will you, and I’ll make you a better dress when your day comes, all right?”

  “Oh my gosh, I’ll probably end up marrying some loser who writes to me in prison because he saw my picture in the paper. We’ll have conjugal visits, my baby will be born, and then taken away from me by child protective services while I scream through the bars.”

  “Would you quit? Don’t be ridiculous.” Lilly grabs my hand. “Where’s the blue diamond?”

  “I gave it to my lawyer.”

  Her forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Why would you give a ring like that to a lawyer?”

  I look away, picturing his warmth and the sweet love I witnessed between him and Georgie. “Because he taught me to see the beauty in imperfection. I thought it only right he should possess a little perfection when the right woman comes along.”

  “You’re going strange on me, girl.”

  “I’m going to take over the lease here, if that’s all right.”

  “You’re going to live here?”

  “I have a little income that I’m still entitled to. I’ll make the rent.”

  “It’s not the rent I’m worried about. Have you ever really lived on your own?”

  “I’ll be fine, Lilly.”

  I start to tell her about Nate, but I don’t want to ruin her moment. As she eyes the wedding gown, and makes the adjustments in her head, I watch Max following her with his eyes.

  “You’re letting him see the gown before you’re in it?”

  Lilly shrugs. “We’re married already.”

  Max looks at the box filled with legal paperwork. “This all for tomorrow?”

  I nod.

  “Do you want us to be there with you?”

  “They won’t let you in anyway. There’s no reason to come. Just pray for me, and my dad.”

  Lilly purses her lips. “I will. You call me the minute you hear anything.”

  “Nothing will happen tomorrow, Lilly. They’ll decide they’re charging us, and we’ll wait years for a trial. This is only the beginning.” I flop onto the futon. “I’m so glad I have a place to call home that’s free of my father and Gwen. This is perfect for me,” I pat the futon.

  Lilly looks worried, and I have to admit, I have never in my life spent a night alone, other than in my dorm room, where I could just knock on a neighbor’s door. Even Nate and Kim are gone, and this is me. I’m on my own, which I guess is what I said I wanted. A life with purpose. I was just hoping for more than staying out of jail as a goal.

  chapter 34

  Before I head to the courthouse, I offer to help Jenna get herself together for the girls to have their photo taken. I ring the doorbell, my suit carefully tucked away in plastic for fear the girls will decide to finger paint with jelly, and wait for several minutes before Jenna appears at the door. Although I spent the entire morning yesterday cleaning the house, there is literally not one sign that anyone’s been here for more than six months.

  “What happened?”

  “Storm Keller happened. Aren’t they effective?”

  “Girls, you did not make this mess.”

  They nod proudly, as though they’ll receive a reward for their efforts.

  I sigh, taking them both by the hand. “Go get a shower, Jenna; this is your opportunity. Are their dresses for the pictures out?”

  “Hanging on their door.”

  I climb the thin Victorian stairs, holding the hand of Anne (in front of me) and Amber (behind me) and when we get into their room, I draw a bath in the clawfoot tub for them both. As their wiggling bodies drain most of the water from the tub, and I wrestle them to get their hair washed, we end up giggling as they make soap bubble beards and clothes. I pull them both out of the tub, taking towels from the warming and wrapping them up in precious bundles.

  I am so not going to jail.”

  The little girls blink as though I’ve lost my mind, and their giggling stops. “I didn’t have anything to do with this, Anne. Nothing, Amber, do you hear me?”

  They both nod, incredulous that the game has stopped, seeing their confused glances, I warm my expression immediately. “Because I have games to play, and puzzles together, and I have a family to be a part of.”

  I brush each girl’s hair out, saturating it in some high-end version of “No More Tangles” that doesn’t work nearly as well. It was my saving grace as a child. Once their hair is dried, I get them dressed for pictures in frilly frocks that render them the picture of sweet little angels with no sign of the terror within save their blue-eyed glimmers.

  As I bring them downstairs, Jenna is dressed and ready to go. “You’re going to be all right taking them to the photographers?” />
  “We’ll be fine; it’s in a place with plenty of parking.”

  “I’ll stay here and get things cleaned up and then I’m off to the courthouse. But I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Perfect, we’ll see you then.” She gathers her girls and leaves me alone in the house to once again find the carpet under all the toys, and the places for kitchen utensils that have been windswept as play dough tools and battle accouterments in the living room—the formal living room.

  My cell phone trills, and I note it’s my father’s cell number. “Hi, Daddy,” I answer. “How are you feeling today?” I try to forget everything that took place between us the night before. If I’m going to move on—or in, as the case may be—I don’t need a heart of darkness.

  “Never better, princess. You ready to take on these Feds?”

  “I am.” I take a last look around the Keller home and its lived-in warmth, and I realize this is who God gave me for a father. Had I been presented with the opportunity to pick my own, I probably couldn’t have done as well as God. My father may not be warmth personified, but he never allowed me to wallow in misery if he could make things better. Certainly, he used things to do it, but I can see now it’s the only language he knew.

  I get into my car, and I drive to the federal courthouse. A band of photojournalists snap my picture and I smile for them, widely. I climb the steps and enter the quiet hallway where I’m of about as much importance as the corbels on the ceiling—probably less.

  Once inside the courtroom, the somber mood burdens my soul immediately. I look over the jurors—people who will decide my fate for the next couple of years—and they seem so severe. So ready to send me to my cell, and I can see my legs shaking as I sit in the chair. Monkey and Monkey (Lemur and Lemur) come and sit down across from me, and soon, to my surprise, my father is wheeled in wearing a freshly pressed suit I’ve never seen before. Leave it to Richard Malliard to have a tailor on call from the hospital.

  “Dad, what are you doing here?”