Gillian's Do-Over (10 page)

A
smile seemed to flit across his face, the warmth in his eyes remaining. He looked at her, his face serious. “I detect you asked out of more than simple curiosity.”

“Yes.
A reason.” She let her breath out in a tiny sigh.

“
I’m thinking I want to set up a trust. My neighbor says I need a lawyer to make sure it’s done right. Do you do that sort of thing? Or is it something you wouldn’t want to bother with?”

Matt’s eyes darkened and
he shifted on the seat. “It’s part of what we call contract law. A trust is a contract.”

He hadn’t exactly said yes.
Was he putting her off? She twisted her hands in her lap and her anxiety bloomed again as she looked into his measureless gray eyes with those intriguing gold flecks. “Do you think I might bring over my papers and have you advise me?”

“
I could do that.” He took a quick breath and glanced her way before looking away again, a muscle in his jaw working. “Are you sure you want me as your lawyer? I’m not nearly as active as I used to be. Might even retire in a few years. Many people want attorneys who are going to be around a long time.”

“
I’m sure you’ll be around as long as I am,” she replied.
How old
is
he?

Matt’s dimple winked again.
“I suppose.”

He rose from the bench where they’d been sitting. “
Why don’t you call my office and have my receptionist set up an appointment?” He smiled.

“
Thanks,” she replied. He hadn’t given her a card, probably because he didn’t carry them in his hiking shorts. But she would look it up. The internet had all kinds of information these days.
Like those dating sites.

A friend in the park.
Matt was that. Maybe he would also be her attorney. When she arrived home, she Googled his name and jotted down his office address and phone number, surprised that it was so close to her home, in the same neighborhood. In his house.
Hmm. That’s interesting.
Maybe he was a lot closer to retirement than she figured.

She
checked her email while the tea steeped. Maybe one of those sex predators on the singles site had emailed her. Their messages would make for a good laugh before she deleted them. Twelve new messages popped up. Two were from niftyatfifty. Three others, whose names she didn’t recognize, also pinged for her attention. She opened the first one in the queue.

Dear Fab: This is my first time connecting with someone online. A friend told me I should tell you about myself. I’m in my fifties (but my friends tell me I don’t look it), so here’s more reality. I’ve been divorced for about ten years now. It was all my fault, something I didn’t want to a
dmit until recently. Actually my mother told me, the week before she died, that I was a fool for making Andrea (my ex-wife) hate me so much that she left. I never knew my mother cared all that much for my ex-wife, but I guess she did. I’ve been lonely for too long. That’s why I went online to find a friend. Are you interested? Hungryforlove

Gillian
smiled to herself and sipped her cup of tea. Hungryforlove seemed interesting, honest anyway. What could it hurt to reply to him?

Dear Hungry: It must have be
en hard to think you made a mistake divorcing your wife, or at least admitting that perhaps you might have been nicer to her. I, too, am divorced. I looked at your picture and you don’t look like life has treated you badly. I’m happy to be your online friend. Perhaps with lots of new friends online, you won’t feel so lonely. Fabatforty

Gillian
deleted the other messages and sent a quick email back to niftyatfifty. Each of his messages were becoming shorter. Did that mean he was losing interest? Or was he taking a hint from her replies, which also were brief?

She reviewed again the information on Matt Gordon. He hadn’t seemed all that enthusiastic about helping her. Maybe what she was asking was simply too small to be worth his
time. He’d said he was limiting his cases, probably to larger ones. She sipped her tea slowly, setting down the cup when the drink was no longer as hot as she liked. The grandfather clock in the hall began its hourly striking of the time.
Three already.

She
punched in the number she’d looked up.

“
Law office of Matthew Gordon. How may I help you?” The receptionist’s voice was pleasant.

“I would like to speak with Mr.
Gordon.”

“Mr.
Gordon is in conference. May I have him return your call?”

“
Let me start over. Actually, it’s you I need to talk to.” Gillian flushed, glad the receptionist couldn’t see her face. “I was supposed to ask you to pencil me in to see Mr. Gordon.”

“May I have y
our name, please? What shall I tell Mr. Gordon is the nature of your appointment?”

“
He already knows. About a trust. My name’s Gillian Griffiths.”

“
Very good.”

Computer
keys rattled in the background.

“How does a week from yesterday work for you? At
eleven a.m?”

That evening TJ lounged on Matt’s deck, a beer in one hand, a long-handled fork in the other as he turned meat on the grill. “So tell me again why you don’t want to take Ms. Griffith’s case. You could probably do it with your eyes closed.”

Matt hitched one shoulder in the direction of the house. “You can guess
why.” Or was it because Gillian had generated sparks he hadn’t felt in years, sparks that warned him against a personal relationship. Even a professional one.

“
Marnie?”

“She’s getting worse.”

“Was that her that I heard, the noises upstairs?”

Matt nodded. “I try not to be
spend too much time in the office when I meet with clients. Lately, I’ve taken to seeing them elsewhere unless she’s napping or the housekeeper’s here and can take her for a walk. Or a ride. She’s having to use the wheelchair more these days.”

“
How many clients were you booked to see this week? Two? Three? You’ve got the time, Matt.”

He shook his head. “I’d rather not.”

“Better you than some kid right out of law school who’d mangle the job. I know you could handle her case blindfolded. And don’t ask me to do it. It would take more time for me to get spun up. You know I don’t do that many trusts.”

Matt leaned forward and peered at the steaks. “You’re burning the meat. I
like mine medium rare, not resembling shoe leather.”

TJ flipped the meat and handed the long-handled fork t
o Matt. “Okay. You check them.” He began to pace, his hands behind his back, as if he were in court.

“I know your problem
, counselor. Marnie’s dying by inches. You don’t want to accept that you’re still alive. From what you described, this client’s not hard to look at. A bonus, if you ask me. Is that the reason?” TJ pointed upstairs. “Marnie’s never going to be her old self again. You’re still alive. If you noticed Ms. Griffiths, it means you’re not dead yet. Stop acting like you’re already in the grave.”

Matt flipped the meat two more times then removed the slabs from the grill and handed a
plate to his best friend. “Your steak has stopped bleeding. Let’s eat.”

TJ ambled over to
a seat and adjusted the umbrella shading the table. “Take the case. Help the lady out. Enjoy looking at her. Doesn’t mean you’ll do anything about it.”

Matt
grimaced before concentrating on cutting a piece of steak and slowly chewing it. His friend was right. Gillian Griffith’s legal question wasn’t complicated. He could probably handle the entire thing in two, maybe three, short visits. But his guilt that he wasn’t immune to the attraction of a good-looking woman bothered him. His body was betraying him when he needed to be a loving husband, even though he felt less and less like one. He had to be a full-time attentive husband even if he could only be a part-time attorney. At least until Marnie didn’t need him anymore. But his heart clutched at the thought. Anticipatory grieving is what the doctor called it, when he’d insisted on asking Matt how he was feeling about Marnie’s condition, how he was bearing up. Because he wasn’t.

Matt sensed Gillian
would be a major distraction.
Not something he was sure he had the strength of will to fight. He needed to keep Marnie and her needs top of mind. It was one thing to see the woman in the park when he was taking a break, and another to see her in the office, on his own turf, wanting her to be more than an in-the-park acquaintance or even a client.

Then there was that news article about Nicholas
Talmadge, indicted for misappropriation of funds. Matt had meant to ask Gillian if she’d been contacted, perhaps implicated, given her previous position in the company. If so, she’d need a good lawyer.
That
case interested him more than working up her trust.

“
Did you see the paper yesterday, that misappropriation of funds indictment? Ms. Griffiths used to work there,” he said, trying to sound casual.

“Huh? T
hat situation with Nick Talmadge? I’ve met the owner. A real piece of work. That case would be right up your alley, too. Did he contact you?”

“I’m sure the company lawyer is handling things on his behalf.”

TJ snorted. “But what about the woman, Gillian Griffiths. If she’s involved?”

“Not likely. She told me
Talmadge fired her.”

“Better offer your services, Matt.” TJ reached for the vegetable dish. “A juicy case like that will keep your mind of
f Marnie’s problems.”

“I don’t chase after clients.”

“Of course not, but you said the lady already made an appointment. All you have to do is ask her what’s going on. See if she needs representation.”

That would work.

“I thought you were going to look into a good nursing home for Marnie.” TJ’s words jolted Matt.

“I decided against it. She’s always loved this house.” Except these days,
Marnie didn’t seem to recognize where she was half the time.

“But
you can’t be with her every minute.”

“
Already told you, TJ. When I’m with a client, the nurse or the housekeeper watches her.”

“And, you’re going to continue beating yourself up—out of guilt—that she’s the one
who’s sick and not you,” TJ stated. “Admit it.”

Matt shoved his plate away, his steak half-eaten. “
I think I’ll save this meat for Adelaide.”

Two days later the phone rang while Matt was eating lunch with Marnie. “Matt, old man. How are you this fine day?”

“
What’s on your mind, TJ?”

Matt leaned back in his chair as he watched
Marnie swish her fork through the food he’d placed in front of her.

“
Are you calling about doing that charity bike ride this weekend, the one that starts at the zoo and wanders all around Green Lake?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.
Allison decided on Stanford Law. I was hoping she’d stick closer to home, but it was her decision. I’m just happy she’s following in her old man’s footsteps. Want to ride with us?”

“
Sure would.”

“I’m taking the truck to the starting area. We’ll pick you up. You know parking’s always a problem over there by the zoo.”

“Thanks for the offer. I’ll be ready.”

Gillian
Griffith’s appointment was coming up. But, could he stay focused on the case with Marnie’s behavior so erratic of late? More to the point, could he keep his focus on the legal points of the law, rather than on Gillian and imagining her somewhere other than in his office? Like taking her to dinner? Seeing a movie? In his bed? He recalled the zing of awareness he experienced each time he’d seen her. Maybe that’s why he was visiting the park so often, hoping he would see her.

“Come on, honey. Let’s get you back to bed for your nap.”
Matt helped Marnie out of the chair.

“Un
nuh,” she mumbled and shook her head, pushing his hand away with fingers that felt more like claws. She seemed to want to fight with him, but did so only for a minute before leaning against him as they shuffled into the bedroom. Her left side weakness seemed more pronounced today.

The
Marnie he fell in love with was fast disappearing. Remembering what she used to be and how she was now broke Matt’s heart. TJ was right. He had to stop beating himself up and accept her for what she could do, keep her comfortable, loved. Wasn’t that why he’d fixed up the house so he could work downstairs? Hired a private nurse for her?

“There you go.” Matt tucked her into bed
, kissed her forehead and held her hand until her eyes closed. He wrote himself a note about the frozen portion of the grilled steak so he wouldn’t forget to give it to Heather for Adelaide. He’d invited his niece to ride with him on the charity bike ride. He looked forward to seeing her then. It would be a great way to clear his head, to relax a bit away from home. Away from Marnie. He sighed. Just a short respite, something to help him keep on keeping on.