Chapter Two
Helena Lamont was one of those people that managed to light a room by walking into it. She was probably the only genuinely good soul I’d ever met, and law seemed like entirely the wrong discipline for her. In fact, when we met in law school, I was convinced she wouldn’t make it beyond the first week. That’s another thing I was wrong about. Not only did she make it through, but she breezed by, passing the bar with flying colors.
Although Helena and I were polar opposites on paper, we had one of those instant bonds that made me wonder about the possibility of past lives. Within five minutes of meeting, it was as if we’d known each other forever. There weren’t many things we held in common; she liked to party, got through boyfriends like they were socks, and was notorious for completing assignments the night before they were due. However, what we did share was a sense of humor and an affection for one another that went much deeper than any friendship I had before or since.
After school, we’d gone our separate ways, I’d stayed in New York and she’d taken a job on the west coast. We remained close, though, talking at least twice a week on the phone and traveling to see each other every few months.
Unlike me, she had no great ambition to run with the ‘big boys’. Her dreams were simpler: she genuinely wanted to help people, and she wanted to ensure she had enough time to enjoy life. And enjoy life she certainly did. While earning relatively little at a community legal clinic in Santa Cruz, she lived in a tiny studio apartment just a block from the beach.
“I know it’s small,” she’d told me the first time I’d visited her in her new home.
“Small?” I’d chuckled. “Hel, you’ve barely got room for a bed in here.”
“Yeah,” she’d smiled, nodding toward the window. “But check out that view. Every morning, I get to swim in that ocean. Really starts the day off right, you know?”
I didn’t know. The cramped conditions were something I could not overlook, no matter what other perks the property offered.
As far as I know, she did spend the next two years swimming every morning. She also spent her weekends surfing or playing volleyball. And, just as it had been in law school, her dating pool was as broad as it was deep. She really lived. She loved life. It wasn’t fair that it should all be ripped from her far too soon.
Staring at the mahogany coffin, surrounded by more flowers than I’d ever seen, it all seemed so unjust that my mind could not contend with it. A drunk driver; an intersection; and Helena’s small car. In just a fraction of a second, it was all over.
Motionless, and unblinking I pictured Helena with the broad, genuine smile that was always infectious. I saw her sparkling, bright blue eyes, so full of passion and vibrancy. I saw the long blonde hair that always looked perfect, even when she’d just gotten out of bed. It did not seem possible that I would never see those things again.
Slowly, lifting my hand, I placed my palm on the solid wood. I wasn’t aware of the imperceptible, disbelieving shake of my head or the silent tears that had begun to skate across my cheeks.
Suddenly warm fingers cupped my shoulder and, with a start, I lifted me head.
“Sorry,” the man softly said, “I didn’t mean to make you jump.”
I found Shawn’s eyes, they were the exact color and shade as his older sister’s, but with a heart wrenching sadness within them. He looked as though he hadn’t slept in several days, dark circles beneath his lids spoke of sleepless nights since the day he called my office.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” he continued quietly. “I know, it would have meant a lot to Helena.”
My gaze moving from his and back to the coffin, I exhaled shakily. “Nothing would have kept me away,” I replied, wiping at the salty droplets on my face with the heel of my hand. “Um, I’ve been meaning to ask, are you doing anything about the driver?” I asked, sniffing.
“What do you mean?” he replied, shaking his head.
“A civil suit,” I explained.
Shawn’s focus fell to the floor and his hand slipped from my shoulder. “I don’t think that’s...” he murmured weakly.
“He’s responsible for Helena’s death,” I said definitively.
“Is suing him gonna bring her back?” Shawn responded calmly.
“No,” I breathed. “But that’s not the point, you have a case-”
Gently Helena’s bother lifted his face, quieting me with a subtle shake of his head. “Brooke, I know you mean well, but I don’t think that’s something my parents or I want to put ourselves through. Besides, it’s not what Helena would have wanted.”
I opened my mouth to disagree with him, but quickly closed it again. I could almost hear her voice. ‘It’s not worth it. It will only bring more misery. Money won’t make anything better.’
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a few things I need to do,” he added, stepping back. “Thanks again for coming, Brooke.” Unlike the first time he’d said it, this time it was offered with almost forced politeness.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” I quickly uttered. “I just...None of this seems fair.”
Sticking his hands in his black suit pants, Shawn accepted my apology with a slight nod. “I know,” he sighed. “And I know that you think litigation will help right the wrong, but the truth is it won’t help Helena.” With that, he turned away from me and strode from the room.
I stayed for some time longer, exactly how long I couldn’t possibly say. I tried to seek comfort from being close to Helena, but that feeling that had always been there wasn’t present. She wasn’t present. Her body may have lain in the carefully carved, polished wooden box, but the important things; the things that made her her, those were gone.
In the silence of the funeral home, feeling more alone than I ever had, Shawn’s words rolled around and around in my mind. At first, I fought them, determined that he was wrong. A legal suit may not bring Helena back, but it would be some kind of justice. It would acknowledge that there was value in the life that the stupid, selfish bastard had taken.
Yet, as the moments passed, my vehement conviction failed me. A civil suit, and even a criminal prosecution for that matter, could never right an immutable wrong. Nothing. Nothing would ever help Helena’s parents deal with the loss of their daughter. Nothing would ease the grief Shawn felt. Nothing would make me feel any better, either.
And, if that was true, what the hell was I wasting my life doing?
I was working to make rich men richer. I was working every waking hour to achieve a meaningless position, so I could do what? Prove that I was as good as the men? Become one of the rich people getting perpetually richer? Did any of that have any real meaning? My career had no meaning in and of itself. On paper, I might have been more successful than Helena had been, but she had helped many more people; arguably worthier people. Along with that, she’d managed to lead a full life. She wasn’t chained to her desk, she knew what it was to have fun; how to stop and smell the roses.
Perhaps, I thought, my eyes lifting from their blank stare, it was time I learned how to do some rose-smelling of my own.
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