Foreclosure: A Novel (14 page)

She laughed louder.

“You know too much about me,” he said.

She managed to stop the laughter enough to say, “Funny, most days I needed a password to know what you wanted for dinner.” She scanned the ballroom again.

He took her arm. “I love hearing you laugh,” he whispered. “Even if you’re making fun of me.”

“He’s here,” Beth said, pointing to Judge Cox making his way through the main entrance. Mild applause greeted him.

“Damn it,” David muttered.

“What?” she asked.

“I should have just kissed you. It would have been perfect.”

She sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

“The kiss?”

“No.” She nodded toward the judge. “Our congratulations.”

“I’m not going to congratulate him.”

“What?”

David recalled Judge Cox’s repeated threats to sanction him during the Savage trial. “I think he wants me disbarred. You don’t want him to see me with you.”

Beth grinned. “Then I’m really glad you didn’t kiss me.” She smiled and blew David a furtive little kiss, and strutted away.

David found the bar and ordered a martini. “Something for a change.” He took the drink in hand and turned around to watch the show. He zoned in on the coterie surrounding Judge Cox: a bunch of tools lavishing the judge with praise. Cox had given his signature thick glasses the night off, apparently opting for contacts. His brown plaid suit had probably been tailored when Carter was president. At least it still fit.

David scanned the room for Beth. He didn’t see her, but he did see Alton and Mackenzie make their grand entrance. So, he played a game and imagined there was a magnetic force. If Alton and Mackenzie stepped in one direction, he had to step in the other. All the while, he was trying to find Beth. And getting dizzy. And maybe just a little buzzed. Every other woman here could pass for her from behind, but none were half as pretty from the front.

After he’d circled the entire ballroom, he began to wonder whether she might have snuck outside, maybe for some fresh air … maybe with someone else. Having lost his bearings in the crowded room, he turned to find himself face-to-face with Judge Cox, who was being congratulated by none other than A.U.S.A. Beth Conner. She saw David and stepped aside just enough to give him room to join the conversation.

“Judge, I know you know my friend David Friedman,” she said.

The sight of David seemingly killed the judge’s buzz. “Mr. Friedman.” He barely nodded.

“Congratulations, Your Honor.”

The judge raised his nose and leaned about twenty degrees toward David. “I trust you’ve taken my advice to heart since I saw you last?”

“Of course I have, Your Honor.” David did his best not to roll his eyes.

“What’s that about?” Beth whispered to David.

“Ethics,” he whispered back.

The judge pushed David aside. “Anyway,” he said to Beth. “I can’t wait to get a criminal docket back. How long have you been with the US Attorney’s office?”

“Not long,” she said. “I moved here from Main Justice.”

The judge nodded, very impressed. “Well, I look forward to seeing you in court.” Then he glared at David, like he was purposefully not sending any love his way.

A new tool appeared and grabbed the judge’s sleeve. “Hey, Judge, can you tell that story about your first trial again?”

“You mean the one where I ripped my pants?”

“Yeah, that one!” The tool laughed, and the other tools followed.

Just as the laughter swelled, Alton and Mackenzie walked up. “Are you telling stories about us again,” Alton whispered to David.

“No, Alton. They’re laughing, not puking.”

Alton’s face turned stern. “Lighten up, asshole. Enjoy the show while you can.”

Mackenzie pushed past David and the tools and grabbed the judge’s hand and shook it a little too quickly. “Judge Cox, Mackenzie Alderman with Hollis & Alderman. On behalf of our firm, we wish you the sincerest of congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Judge Cox tried to reel in his hand. No sooner had he retrieved it than it was being squeezed by Alton.

“Yes, Judge. I know our litigators will miss seeing you as frequently in circuit court. We wish you the best in your new appointment.”

David glanced back and saw Beth nodding at him with a smirk on her face. She pointed at her watch to remind him of the time. He blew her a kiss back. She put her hand up to block it and then waved at him and gave him the naughty finger.

Without saying good-bye to the judge or his employers, David drifted back into the crowd, trying to follow Beth while staying hidden from her. The more time he spent around her, and the longer he saw her, the more he wondered why he’d ever let her go. He let her lose him in the crowd so he could grab another drink and start the hunt over.

When he found her again, her back was facing him. It looked like she was standing alone, looking down at something. Maybe reading a work email. He approached her from behind.
This is it
, he told himself. He was going to kiss her now, before the night got away from them. He reached her and touched her shoulder. He wanted her to turn right into his lips.

Instead, she slowly turned, fighting tears. She closed an email on her BlackBerry and put it away.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Can we go now?”

They hadn’t spoken a word since they left, and they were already a mile from Beth’s. This was precisely the way he did not want the night to end, and precisely why he’d wanted to kiss her at the beginning. He considered music, something romantic. Freddie King’s “Have You Ever Loved a Woman” would do the trick.

“I thought it was a nice ceremony.” He waited, but she didn’t respond. “Meeting the US Attorney was the highlight. He doesn’t deserve the rap he gets.”

She prefaced her speech with a sigh. “My divorce is final. As of today. I lost track of time and forgot the final hearing was today. I don’t really feel like … .” She sighed again.

David pulled into the driveway and parked. “I’m sorry I haven’t been more sensitive to that. To be honest, it’s felt like you were already divorced.”

“It’s just a tough time, David.”

“I understand.” He glanced at the house. “Want me to walk you in?”

“My mom’s sleeping.”

“Your mom?”

“I’m staying with her. She’s not good.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“You knew I was from Fort Gaspar.”

David shook his head. He didn’t know where she was going with this.

“Good night, David.” She grabbed the door handle. Then she turned back and peered through the window. “Why did you move here after law school? Why not Miami or Atlanta? Tampa or Orlando? Why Fort Gaspar?”

“The cost of living.”

She stared at him. Almost looked angry.

“What are you implying?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “Thanks for the ride.” She hopped out of the car and slammed the door behind her. Then she disappeared into the house.

As he drove home, he couldn’t put her last question out of his mind. He knew she was implying something. Maybe she just resented him for being here and wished she could make this transition in life without having to deal with someone else from her past, especially someone as needy and desperate as she apparently considered him to be.

More likely, though, she was implying that he’d moved here for her. As if he knew she would one day leave Jeff McElroy and move home, and he’d be waiting here for her. He felt angry, though, mainly because he wondered if she was right.

David finally pulled into his driveway and killed the ignition. For a moment, he didn’t even realize there was another car parked in the driveway. Probably because he’d seen the car parked there so many times, it almost seemed to belong. The realization of whose car it was finally jarred him out of his exhausted complacency.

Through the BMW’s window, Lana stared back at him with dark, tired eyes.

He fumbled with the key in the dead bolt. He’d never seen the porch so dark, and wondered if Lana was blocking the light. But there was no light to block. Half the townhomes on his block were in foreclosure, and half of those were abandoned.

“I tried calling but you changed your numbers,” she said, taking a few steps toward the doorway. He smelled her fragrance, the same hint of lavender and sex she always wore. He wished she had changed it, at least for today. “Are you just going to ignore me?”

He finally turned the lock and pushed open the front door to the foyer. Then he flipped on the porch light and peered back at his visitor, the woman who prior to this year had probably slept more nights in this townhome than he had. She looked dressed for a job interview: gray wool slacks hugging her hips perfectly like everything she wore; a silky white blouse that accentuated her soft, slender build.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I had my last court appearance.” She let out an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Glad that’s behind me.” She smiled, inviting him to smile back.

“Lana, what are you doing here?” he asked again.

“Since I was in town, I thought we should talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Can I come in?”

“It’s getting late.” He closed the door a few inches, but not all the way.

She pushed it open and entered. Her heels clicked against the ceramic tile that she’d picked out for the foyer two years ago. She looked around and winced. “What is that smell?”

David dropped his keys and moved toward the kitchen. Knowing she was following, he flipped on the fluorescent lights and glanced around the kitchen. No reason to be embarrassed about the trash that needed to go out or the dishes piled in the sink; maybe it would make her feel guilty, or at least gag.

“Can I get you something to drink? Throw some fish sticks in the oven?”

“Thanks,” she said wryly. “But I already ate.”

“So what was your sentence?” He poured an already-opened beer into a spotty glass.

“You say that with such morbid interest.”

He shrugged.

“Probation. And a hefty fine.”

“I’m sure your dad can take care of that for you.”

“Justin told me the questions you were asking in his office. I wish you’d let me explain some things.”

“There’s nothing to explain. It doesn’t matter. I don’t even know why we’re talking right now.”

“I don’t want there to be any bitter feelings between us. I left you to escape the negative energy. I feel like it’s still following me.”

“Whatever guilt or angst is bothering you, it’s not on my account.” He watched her glance around the kitchen, saw the thoughts racing through her mind. “You look relieved, actually. Relieved not to live here anymore.”

“I can’t say I miss it, if we’re being honest.”

“Yeah, Lana. Let’s be honest for once. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Can’t I stop by and say hello?”

“What do you want me to say, that I can’t live without you?”

Her eyes turned desperate. “That you forgive me would be nice.”

He chewed on that for a moment. “I don’t believe in forgiveness.”

“You don’t believe in forgiveness?” She shook her head and approached the kitchen sink. She stared at the basin filled with dirty glasses and silverware. Then, she turned the water on and waited for it to warm.

“It’s a myth,” he explained. “The closest we can come is to stop caring.”

She squeezed the bottle of dish detergent over the sink, trying to nudge the last drop of soap out of the bottle. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’ve stopped caring.”

She removed the cap and filled the bottle with a little water, and then she shook it to release the last hardened soap. A moment later, suds began rising in the sink. “That explains a lot about you.”

“Spare me the psychobabble. You wasted your undergrad degree on that bullshit. Maybe you could have kept your job if you had a real education.”

She turned, tears welling in her eyes. “Why are you being this way?”

“Please don’t wash my dishes.”

She glanced at the living room and shook her head at the sight of the ’67 Stratocaster perched on the fireplace mantle. “Why don’t you put a spotlight on it?”

“I’m going to, when I find time.”

“It looks hideous in there.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“Of what?” Her eyes were fixed on a dark corner in the living room.

“That I bought that, instead of your ring.”

“Justin said he offered you work. But you turned it down.”

“Something better came along. I’m quite busy. And please don’t wash my dishes.”

“He’s going to be in town Monday morning. You should talk to him.”

David finished his beer and took a few steps toward the sink. “In town for what?”

“Meeting with some developer. I don’t know what he does.”

Probably meeting with Frank to discuss the forbearance agreement, David thought. “Tell him thanks but no thanks.” He reached past Lana and turned off the water. He took the sponge from her and threw it in the garbage.

“What’s happened to you?” she cried.

He politely moved her aside and pulled the plug out of the bottom of the sink. “Maybe it’s you, Lana. Maybe you’re more perceptive. Maybe you’ve finally grown out of your naïve sorority mentality. Me, I’m the same guy you started screwing because your boss wanted to make an inroad with my law firm.”

She smacked him.

“And you kept it up long enough to convince yourself that you cared for me.”

She smacked him again, a new wave of tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Until you woke up one day and realized there’s no reason to screw this guy anymore, so you found another guy to screw who makes you feel better about yourself.”

She turned her palms, ready to punch him.

He grabbed her hands. “Doesn’t that sound about right?”

“Damn you, you bastard.”

He let her go. “That’s right. I am a bastard. And you know it.”

A quick flash of regret passed over her face, but then the anger returned. “You’re not a bastard.” She paused to catch her breath. “But you do everything you can to make people think you are.” She stormed out of the kitchen. “You’re a fraud, too,” she yelled on her way out of the house. “And forget everything I said tonight.”