A Promise to Remember (38 page)

When she walked in, he was studying something written on
a legal pad. She cleared her throat, and he flipped the page.

"Thanks for meeting me."

"I'm your lawyer. That's what we do." He offered his most
charming smile, which was when Melanie trusted him the
least.

She sat in the seat across from him, wondering how he was
going to take her news. Not well, she imagined. "A couple of
things have happened. I don't even know where to start."

The calm confidence on his face was absent in his eyes. A
before-the-jury practiced smile curved across his mouth. "Why
don't you start from the beginning?"

"I ran into Andie Phelps yesterday."

A spark ignited in his eyes. He picked up a pencil, leaned
forward. "Did she threaten you, make obscene gestures?"

Melanie looked evenly into his face. "No. Nothing like that."

"What happened, then?" The pencil seesawed in his hand.

"She ... apologized."

His jaw actually dropped open. It took a full fifteen seconds
before he restored an all-business look to his face. "Good for
her." His voice came out calm and measured, but he fidgeted
in his seat like he wanted to jump up and pump his fists in victory. "Tell me exactly what she said. Everything that you can
remember."

Everything we can use against her in court, you mean. "I .. .
it made me feel funny."

The pencil stopped moving. "Of course it did. No doubt she
did it trying to gain your sympathy. Defendants who know they're
backed into the corner will say anything they can to escape.
And remember, this is not about punishing them, anyway. It's
about making your son's death mean something."

Somehow, these words did not act as the call to battle they had
in the past. This time they felt hollow. Empty. "I don't know."

Les leaned back in his chair. "I had a client once, Cedric
Tims-the same thing happened to him. It was a business deal
gone had. His partner had cheated him out of a lot of money.

"Just before the trial, his partner came to him on his knees,
promised to pay back everything, recalled their friendship since
high school, their children's years on the soccer field. My client
dropped the suit days before the trial was to begin."

Maybe Les did understand. This wouldn't be so hard after
all. "Did things work out for him?"

Les snorted. "Hardly. His newly repentant partner skipped
town the day after we withdrew the lawsuit. Moved to some
island in the Caribbean with all the money he'd stashed away and never had any intention of returning. My client, on the
other hand ..." Les straightened some papers. "He, of course,
owed me."

"Owed you?"

"Our contract clearly stated that I would take a percentage of
whatever we won. If we won nothing, then I got nothing. When
he dropped the case himself-a case we would have won-he
was required by law to compensate me at an hourly rate for all
the preparation I'd made. Not to mention office expenses, filing
charges, etcetera."

Les tapped his pencil against the legal pad. "Yes, it was a
sad deal. He came out far worse than he went in. All because
he believed an apology meant something." He looked into her
eyes, letting the information sink in. "You have to be very careful about these things."

A chill crept up Melanie's spine.

Les bestowed a gracious smile. "You said there were a couple
of things. What was the other one?"

"I ..." She couldn't afford to wreck what remained of Sarah's
life. And hers. "I've forgotten."

He nodded. "Not a problem. Feel free to come by again if
you think of it, okay?"

"Sure." Melanie walked from the room, her shoulders drooping with added weight.

Andie walked up the aisle of the church, Blair at her side, feeling
the stares at her back. Everyone, by now, must have heard that
they had been separated. Most knew Blair had been in shortterm detox until yesterday. Lots of tinder to fuel the gossip in
the church foyer this Easter morning. At least the issues with
his company were still a secret-for now. She almost regretted the decision to come today, but skipping this service of all seemed deeply wrong. And she still was not sure if she wanted
to spend an entire day at home alone with Blair.

"Andie, darling, don't you look divine?" Mattie Plendor rushed
across the sanctuary to give a hug. Not an air kiss, but a true
hug. She pulled Andie's arm until she had her out of earshot
of Blair. "I've been just praying like mad for you. I know things
seem so hard, but you hang in there. The same God who helped
me through will do the same for you. Never forget that." She
patted Andie's arm and moved away, but not before Andie saw
the glistening of moisture in her eyes.

"Andie, Blair, so good to see you. What are the two of you
doing for lunch? We've got plenty of ham come spend Easter
with us." People approached them on all sides. "Andie, do you
want to play tennis tomorrow?" None basked in the light of
superiority, or even cast looks of judgment. No. They were here
to help her. They were praying for her.

How had she come so far from her roots? The people who
would love her through the darkest of times were the people
who served the God who loved her through the darkest of
times. The thought lit a light of hope that she had believed
long extinguished. She looked at Blair and smiled. She knew
the road would not be easy, but she hoped they could still walk
it together.

She found it difficult to stay focused on the sermon-too many
thoughts cluttered her mind. After several moments, a single
thought separated itself from the rest and would not be ignored.
She looked at her husband and willed the service to end.

She forced herself to wait until they were in the privacy of
their car before she voiced it. "Blair, something occurred to
me this morning during the service. I know I'm right. You misconstrued Chad's last words."

He flinched as he put the car in gear. "How so?"

"Think about it. `I was going to get it back.' Remember which
direction he was driving? Away from town. He was on his way
back to Cachuma to get the envelope."

"Why would he-"

"He'd calmed enough to realize his mistake. Don't you see?
He didn't hate you for pushing him, he saw the value and went
to get it back."

"Either way, it's a pretty strong indictment against me as a
father."

"No. It shows he respected your dreams for him and knew
you had his best in mind."

Blair moaned. "I wish I could believe that."

She reached over and squeezed his hand. "I do."

Melanie sat in the parking lot, taking deep breaths, searching
for her courage. "Okay, God. You've got my attention. Jeff and
Sarah's friends, Candace, Jake-they've all got a peace I know
I don't have. I know you've got to be the difference.

"But this forgiveness thing.... I mean, it kind of made sense
when I was talking to Candace, but now . . . I don't know. I
want that family to pay for what they did. I want them to suffer as much as I have." Whoa. This was starting to sound less
about Jeff's legacy and more about personal vengeance. Jeff
wouldn't want that.

"Okay, but if I do this, it could ruin us. What would happen
to Sarah?"

Although Melanie heard neither an external voice nor one
inside her head, a calm peace flowed over her like nothing she'd
ever experienced. "Better do this before I lose my nerve."

She climbed from the car, closed the door, and started back
up the steps. It had been almost an hour since she'd left Les's
office-perhaps he had already left. Deep inside she knew she hoped so. That would give her time to talk herself out of this
crazy thing.

She got to the door of his office just as he was coming out.
"Melanie, what are you doing back so soon?"

He was using the accommodating voice that Melanie had
never been able to stand. The irritation it sparked gave her the
courage she lacked. "I need to talk to you."

Andie stared out the window As soon as they had arrived home
from church, Blair announced he needed to run an errand. He
disappeared out the door without a backward glance.

She pictured him at some bar, tossing shots of whiskey down
his throat. So much for starting over.

Andie paced, as had become too much a habit of late. Nothing had changed.

When his car pulled into the garage, she rushed to meet
him. The door opened and she pounced. "Where have you
been?" She sniffed the air, alert for the telltale scents of smoke
or alcohol. Nothing.

He shrugged. "You were right all along. I decided it was time
I apologized, too."

"Apologized. To whom?"

"Jeff Johnston's mother."

"You went to see her?"

"No. I apologized in my own way." He walked inside and
started up the stairs. "Why don't we change clothes and take a
walk on the beach? We can walk past the spot where we released
the lobsters and wish them good luck."

A gleam was present in Blair's eyes that Andie hadn't seen
in a long time. It seemed a great burden had suddenly lifted
from him. She wondered what exactly he had done, but knew
he would tell her in his own time and in his own way.

Several hours later, when they returned from the walk, the
phone was ringing. Andie picked it up. "Hello."

"Andie, this is Sam Campbell. Is Blair home?"

Oh no. Couldn't they have one moment of peace? Andie
considered lying but thought better of it. "Yes, he's right here."
She handed the phone to Blair. "Sam Campbell."

Blair's face stiffened. He took a deep breath before putting
the phone to his ear. "Hello, Sam." He walked toward the living
room, phone still pressed to his ear. "Yes. When? Okay, thanks."
He picked up the remote from the table, pointed it toward the
television, and pushed the button.

"Blair, what's going on?"

Blair shook his head. "Sam said to turn on channel three. He
said the other side has called a press conference."

"What does that mean?"

The local station switched to a shot of Les Stewart standing
on the courthouse steps, his face grim. Beside him, Melanie
Johnston's face was so white she looked as though she might
pass out. She stepped toward a large podium with microphones
attached.

"Today, Easter Sunday, I'd like to announce that I am withdrawing my lawsuit against the Phelps family." She paused,
then seemed to falter before straightening and looking toward
the camera. "I wish them comfort in their grief." She stepped
back.

One of the reporters called out, "Do you no longer feel that
the Phelps family carries the blame for your son's death?"

She didn't move forward, so her words were harder to make
out. "I ... I forgive them. That's what Jeff would want."

The reporter asked something else, that the microphone did
not pick up. She shook her head and looked toward her lawyer.
He stepped forward. "Mrs. Johnston has made her statement.
That's all she has to say."

"What about you, Mr. Stewart? What's your feeling about
this?"