Law Man

Chapter Twenty-Six The Rain Always Stops

Two days later…

I was dressed for work because I was going to work after.

Tight, light beige pencil skirt. Cute, light peach blouse. High-heeled, tan slingback pumps. My hair pulled back in a twisted bun at the nape of my neck.

Mitch liked the way I dressed for work; he told me he thought it was sexy though he didn’t like me selling mattresses to men dressed that way. Most nights, however, I had four mouths to feed. He kicked in feeding those mouths so he understood the need.

I was sitting at the little desk. Mitch, like last time, was standing behind me.

I was not nervous. I was not worried. I had no idea where the money would come from to pay for the meeting with the lawyer we had yesterday and the work he would do in the coming months. And I had no idea what reaction I was imminently going to get.

I also didn’t care.

I’d find the money and the man who was about to get bad news didn’t deserve my nerves or worry.

The buzzer sounded and I felt Mitch’s tension at my back as my head turned toward the door.

Mitch, unlike me, was concerned. But his concern was about me. I told him I was okay but he didn’t believe me.

He would see he had nothing to worry about.

I watched Bill in his orange jumpsuit and white t-shirt move through the door.

He looked thinner but he had better coloring and a decent haircut. Apparently, they had barbers in jail. Or, at least, they had them and they were probably free so Bill availed himself since he didn’t have to make the taxing decision on whether to use his money on a haircut or filth to inject in his system.

Bill’s face screwed up when he saw me but he came to the chair at the little desk beyond the glass opposite me. He sat, his eyes on me then they went to Mitch.

I grabbed the phone.

Bill’s eyes dropped to me.

He didn’t move.

I held the phone to my ear and waited.

He still didn’t move.

It was Mitch who lost patience, leaned in and rapped on the glass with his knuckles. Then he jerked two fingers toward the phone.

Bill scowled at him then snatched up the phone.

The instant he had it at his ear, I spoke.

“Don’t be nasty, hang up and walk away,” I said swiftly. “What I have to say is important and you need to hear it.”

“Not sure anything you have to say is important, Mara, not anymore,” Bill replied, his eyes filled with hate, his mouth and nose creased into a sneer.

“It’s about Billy and Billie so if you think that’s true that means what I’ve decided to do is definitely what needs to be done,” I returned then went on, “Though, I knew that anyway.”

Bill glared at me then his eyes flicked up to Mitch before coming back to me.

“Say what you gotta say so I can get you outta my face. I’d rather be in lockdown with a bunch of psycho slimeballs than sittin’ here with you so I think you get where I’m comin’ from when it comes to you,” Bill retorted.

“Oh,” I whispered, “I got that when you sent my Mom and your Mom after me. And if I didn’t get it then, I got it when you set them to finding Jez in order to use her to threaten me, Billy and Billie.”

Bill’s face didn’t change; he kept up the glare and the sneer. He felt no remorse, not even knowing how him doing that would affect me and not even thinking that it might also affect his children.

I kept talking.

“When Billy saw Jez, he remembered her and he freaked out, Bill.”

Bill just continued glaring at me.

“So bad, he was shaking.”

Bill uttered not a word.

“Just in case you care, Billie was asleep and didn’t see her.”

Nothing from Bill.

I sighed thinking I shouldn’t be surprised considering he was an assclown.

I got down to the matter at hand.

“Mitch and I met with an attorney yesterday and we hired him. We’re moving forward with getting permanent custody of the children.”

“And I care about this because…?” Bill asked and I blinked.

Then I asked back, “Pardon?”

“I got a lotta shit to worry about, Mara. I don’t need more. Because of you, I got a twenty-four, seven job of watchin’ my back. Don’t need to spend my time thinkin’ ‘bout whatever the fuck you’re up to. You’re all fired up to show your pig boyfriend you’re a good person by takin’ my kids, have at it. I end this gig breathin’ then I’ll worry about you.”

“And Billy and Billie,” I put in.

“What?” he clipped.

“You end this breathing, you’ll worry about me and Billy and Billie,” I stated.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

God, my cousin was an assclown.

“Not whatever, Bill. Your son thinks you’re a piece of shit and your daughter has shed tears worrying about you. So it’s not whatever. Those are your children and –”

Bill cut me off, “Not for long, if you and your cop get what you want so what do you care?”

He had a point.

Time to move onto the hard part.

“You could make this easier if you cooperated,” I told him and he grinned but it was not a nice grin.

“Right,” he whispered through his ugly grin, “that’s not gonna happen.”

Total assclown.

“You don’t get this, Bill. I’m not asking for me. I’m asking for Billy and Billie.”

“Not gonna happen,” he repeated.

I stared at him.

Then I pulled in a deep breath.

Then I said softly, “All those nights, I escaped Mom, her men, her parties I went to you. All those nights, we talked in the dark about what we were going to do, where we were going to go, who we were going to be. All those nights, all we talked about was that wherever we went, whatever we became, it had to be a place where we could be who we wanted to be, not what people thought we were. I never gave up that dream, Bill, and I don’t know when you did. I also don’t care. I’m not responsible for what’s happening to you. You are. But you want to pin that on me? Fine. Do it. I don’t care about that either. What I care about, the only thing I care about is making certain that Billy and Billie do not lead the life you and I led through no fault of our own. Now they have nice beds. They have nice clothes. They have new shoes. Billy’s getting really good at playing catch and Mitch is teaching him how to bat and he’s getting good at that too. Billie sleeps every night with a pink teddy bear that she loves. They’re clean. They go to school. They eat three meals a day. They laugh a lot. They’re around people who care about them and that they get their homework done and to bed on time. All of that is simple but you and me, Bill, we know that the simple stuff is everything. I’m giving them that. So is Mitch. You didn’t. I’m asking you to do me a favor and that favor is letting Mitch and I keep giving them that. You have to sign a piece of paper. That’s it. You do your time, sort yourself out, you get out, we can talk about you having a place in their lives. But only if you sort yourself out and only if you never, ever lay claim to them again. They have a family now. They’re content. They’re happy. Do me a favor and let me keep giving them that. And doing me that favor is you giving them that.”

Bill leaned into me, eyes narrowed and said slowly, “Not…gonna…happen.”

I nodded. I knew it.

Still, I had to give it a shot.

Then I said, “Fine. But it is going to happen, Bill. It’s just going to take longer. And after it’s done, you get to live the rest of your life knowing your son hates you and coming to the understanding that as time passes, you’ll become just a hazy memory to your daughter and you squandered the love she gave to you. And you can twist that in your head to try to pin that on me too but I know, deep down somewhere inside you, you’ll know that’s not true. You’ll know I gave them what you and I always wanted. And you’ll know when Billy finds someone he loves and wants to spend the rest of his life with, he’ll be dancing with me at his wedding. And you’ll also know when Billie finds someone to give her heart to, she’ll be dancing with Mitch. And you know that’ll be on you too.”

His face twisted and he hissed, “Fuck you, Mara.”

But I shook my head.

“You’re saying fuck me but what you’re doing, you’re fucking Billy and Billie. What you do to me affects your children. So, Bill Winchell, you just proved you are what everyone back home thought you were. You’re an assclown with shit for brains who doesn’t care about anyone but himself. And you have to live with that too.”

He opened his mouth to speak but I didn’t hear what he had to say.

I put the phone back in its cradle, pushed my chair back and didn’t look at him as I turned to Mitch. I caught his hand, his long, strong fingers curled tight and warm around mine and I didn’t look back as we walked out.

We were out of the room and walking down the hall when Mitch muttered, “I’ll call the attorney.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

His fingers squeezed mine. “You all right?”

“Yes,” I answered.

His fingers squeezed mine again but his hand also tugged as he brought us to a stop.

I looked up at him.

“Sure?” he asked softly.

“The only thing I have to worry about is paying the attorney. I spent a lot of years saving for a rainy day.” I gave him a small smile. “So, it’s raining. Whatever. The rain always stops.”

Mitch’s eyes moved over my face. Then he smiled back. Then he lifted his other hand, curled it around the side of my neck and pulled me in and up.

Then he kissed me, fast, hard but closed-mouthed.

Then he whispered against my lips, “Get to work, sweetheart.”

I grinned against his.

Then I moved away, Mitch walked me to my car and I got to work.