Out of the Dungeon (22 page)

Roman hadn't, but he noticed them now. Some
were hanging from the branches of trees, some were perched on
poles. The one nearest his head was wobbling, and it startled him
and he jerked his head back. He saw a squirrel, half hidden,
attempting to get inside the box that held birdseed.

"There's a squirrel in that one." He pointed,
then pointed to the other feeders, hanging from tree branches. "How
do you keep them out?"

"I don't," she said. "I like squirrels. I
like them more than I care for birds, actually, so the feeders are
mainly for them."

Roman laughed. "There are people who spend a
lot of energy and to go ridiculous lengths to keep squirrels out of
bird feeders."

"I know," she said. "My neighbors are lucky
to have me, don't you think?"

Roman was still chuckling when he went inside
for a second cup of coffee. He filled his cup, and when he turned
around, there was a black squirrel perched on top of the microwave.
He went to the door and said through the screen, "Since when are
squirrels black?"

She laughed. "Oh, is George waiting for a
cracker? Would you get him one from the cupboard above the coffee
pot?"

Roman looked over his shoulder at the
squirrel called George. It did seem to be waiting for something. He
walked over to the counter, and the squirrel sat up on its
haunches, his full attention on Roman. Inside the cupboard was a
package of crackers. Roman snaked one through the end of the
plastic sleeve, took it between his fingers, and offered it to
George. George took it in his neat little paws and started eating
it. He must have been watching Roman though, because when Roman
went out the screen door, the squirrel scampered out at the same
time. It climbed a tree and finished the cracker.

"I wouldn't tell the judge that you let
squirrels come into your house."

"Well, fine. I'll make myself a note not to
mention that."

"All right, what's the plan today?"

"Albert's taking me out for breakfast. I'm
pretty sure he's going to butter me up and try to convince me to
sign the dotted line that'll make him my guardian. Blah, blah,
blah. Court is at eleven thirty. You going to get a suit?"

Roman nodded.

"All right, you can use my car, while I'm at
breakfast. It's in the garage. It runs and drives, and I put gas in
it yesterday. I have to sneak it out, because Albert doesn't want
me driving."

"You are eighty-six," Roman said. "Driving
might not be the best idea."

"I only drive in good weather, and I don't go
any farther than the grocery store and the feed bin. Not that it's
any of your business."

"All right, fine. I won't say another word.
So you leave with Albert and then I go find a suit. And then I show
up at court by eleven thirty. At the courthouse downtown?"

"You know of any other courthouse around
here?" Her tone was sharper than normal, and contained none of her
usual humor. That meant she was stressed out. And probably a little
scared. He didn't call her out, just agreed with her.

"Nope. Okay, I'll be there."

"I want you to come into the courtroom about
a minute after us. So don't join us while we're waiting, just lurk
around a bit."

"Lurking is not a good idea at a courthouse,"
he protested.

"You know what I mean. Stay out of Albert's
sight. I'm looking forward to your surprise entrance. I can't wait
to see the look on his face."

The glee in Gigi's voice almost made Roman
feel sorry for his father. But in truth, he couldn't see that Gigi
needed either a guardian or a nursing home. Well, certainly not a
nursing home. She didn't seem particularly forgetful, hadn't left
the stove on or the water running, and she seemed as spry and agile
as ever.

She dressed for court in a pair of dress
slacks, a blouse, and a light blazer. She put a ladies hat on her
head and hung a purse on her arm. She wore a pearl necklace, a
pearl bracelet, and light pink lipstick. She looked dignified and
well put together. Roman could only hope the formal wear place he'd
called could do as good a job for him.

She was sitting on the front porch waiting
when Albert arrived at five minutes after ten.

Roman took a quick shower in the upstairs
bathroom. The shower was a welcome improvement. Used to be there
was only a bathtub. The shower stall had safety bars, a non-slip
floor, and a built in seat. Pretty fancy. Pretty safe, even for an
old grandma.

Roman had explained on the phone to the
rental place that he needed suitable attire for court. The girl he
talked to had him find their website, then, while on the phone with
him, walked through which items they had available on site in his
size. She also had pretty strong opinions, so ultimately he told
her his size and said he would trust her to find the right
suit.

She proved worthy of his trust. He walked out
of there wearing Hugo Boss, feeling like a high-powered lawyer.
She'd outfitted him down to his shoes, and included a leather
briefcase, legal pad, and pen. "Free gifts from Hugo Boss," she'd
explained. "Like, as an incentive for renting the suit, they offer
the extras, which are great gifts for groomsmen."

"Nice," Roman said. It was dark gray, with
subtle, fine pinstripes. "It's perfect."

"It does look good on you," she agreed. "You
look like a million bucks. I'm surprised you don't own one."

"A Hugo Boss?"

"No," she laughed, smoothing her hands over
his shoulders. "A well-fitting suit, silly. A lot of bikers
do."

She was flirting with him, touching her hair,
smiling in a way that reached her eyes.

"I'm not a biker. I live in New York City.
You'd have to be insane to ride a bike in the city. I mean, people
do, but they're crazy. When I need a suit, I got a guy I go to, and
he sets me up."

"With a Hugo Boss?"

"Usually Armani, but I like this one." He
looked at his watch. "I have to run to my court date. I'll bring
the suit back tomorrow."

"Sounds good. I hope you win," she
offered.

"Not me, my grandma. And she'll win."

"I bet she will, with you on her side." The
shop girl winked at him and waved as he went out the door.

If he'd felt ridiculous getting into Gigi's
red Geo Storm when he left Gigi's house, he felt doubly ridiculous
getting out of it at the courthouse. Not a car for a man in a power
suit. He felt like he should be driving a Lexus. Or an
Escalade.

He went inside at eleven twenty, spotted Gigi
and Albert down the hallway, and hung back. They were called in to
the courtroom within five minutes. Roman counted to one hundred,
and then walked in.

He was moderately startled that it was a
conference room, rather than a courtroom. Gigi sat facing the door,
a small smile ghosting her lips. Albert sat opposite her, with his
back to the door. A judge in black robes sat at the far end of the
table. She was in her late forties, had reddish hair pulled back
from her face, and a pair of glasses perched on her nose that
looked like drug store cheaters. The judge was speaking, but
stopped abruptly when Roman entered. When she spoke again, her tone
was sharp. "This is a private proceeding. Can I help you?"

Albert craned his head around to see who the
judge was talking to. His jaw dropped when he saw Roman.

"Hi, Dad," Roman said. "Gigi," he
acknowledged, as he moved around the table to sit next to his
grandmother. "I'm family," he said to the judge. "Roman Preston.
I'd like to be included in this fiasco, if I may."

He could feel the judge watching him as he
set his briefcase on the table, opened it, and removed the legal
pad and pen. He snapped the briefcase closed and set it on the
floor.

"Leather chaps would have been just as
impressive," Gigi whispered, and Roman almost laughed.

"Mrs. Preston." The judge addressed Gigi. "Do
you have any objections to the presence of Roman Preston?"

"Of course not. I asked him to be here," she
said.

"Mr. Preston?" She addressed Albert.

He sputtered. "Well. Ah. I don't know. This
is kind of unexpected. Maybe we should reschedule."

"Reschedule, my ass," Gigi said. "This has
been going on long enough. Let's get on with it."

Roman saw the judge suppress a smile. "All
right," she addressed the room. "As I was saying, this is a
preliminary hearing. Mr. Preston will explain to me why he thinks
Mrs. Preston requires guardianship, and why he should be appointed
said guardian. If the court finds grounds for guardianship, a final
hearing will be scheduled, and I will have to insist that Mrs.
Preston obtain legal counsel before that date."

Gigi started to protest, but the judge held
up a hand. "I will insist, Mrs. Preston."

Gigi sighed and sat back, hard, her shoulders
slapping the back of the chair like an angry teenager.

"It's fair, Gigi," Roman said.

She nodded. "Fine."

"All right, Mr. Preston, let's talk
informally about your concerns about your mother."

"She's eighty-six," Albert burst out. "Living
alone, rambling around in that big house. She could fall, or she
could accidentally burn the place down. God knows it'd go up like a
tinderbox, probably take half the neighborhood with it."

"Okay, I hear you. Mrs. Preston, what do you
think?"

"I'm eighty-six, not six," Gigi said. "I
haven't fallen yet, and I have never started a fire. I don't even
smoke, unlike Albert here. He's more likely to burn down a house
than I am. I'm sure he means well, but he's sticking his nose where
it doesn't belong. We had a very nice breakfast this morning. If we
saw each other more often, maybe he wouldn't worry so much."

Roman snorted.

"Mr. Preston," the judge addressed Roman.
"Well, the other Mr. Preston. What do you think?"

"I've been staying with Gigi for the past
couple of days. I haven't seen anything that suggests she can't
take care of herself. What I do wonder, however, is what my
father," he nodded in Albert's direction, "is doing about the
foreclosure proceedings on his own home."

"Mr. Preston?" The judge looked over her
glasses at Albert. "I'm quite interested in hearing more about
that, considering you're asking to take care of your mother's
finances."

"Well, um, ah." Albert said. "It's mostly
just a misunderstanding. Really. I've been in regular communication
with the mortgage company, and everything's going to work out okay.
Well, I'm pretty sure everything's going to work out okay."

Gigi removed some folded papers from her
stylish purse. "Your Honor, I did a little checking to see if I
could help my son with this problem, but unfortunately he's quite a
few months behind on his payments, and I just don't have this kind
of money to lend. I'd have to refinance my own house to help him,
and at my age, no lender seems interested in doing that." She
passed the papers to the judge.

The judge looked them over and addressed
Gigi. "What do you owe on your house, Mrs. Preston?"

"Oh, I haven't carried a mortgage for quite a
few years now, but I pay my insurance and taxes every year."

"Now, see, Mom, if you gave me your house, I
could get it refinanced. And even get you a little cash, loosen
things up for you a bit."

Gigi looked at Roman and rolled her eyes.
Then she looked at Albert. "There really isn't much that I need
these days, Son."

"You could use a new car. Yours is what,
about twelve years old?"

"I'm eighty six, Albert. I rarely get behind
the wheel anymore. And I can't believe you're telling me to buy a
new car, when you'd really like to stuff me in a nursing home. That
doesn't make any sense."

"Well, something else then. A new computer.
You're an internet junkie."

"I think we can stop here," the judge
interrupted. "I'm just not seeing any reason to continue the
pursuit of guardianship, Mrs. Preston. With a family member staying
with you, and a reasonable report from your primary physician, this
matter will be closed. You can get the form for your physician from
the court clerk."

"But… but, Your Honor," Albert sputtered.
"She's old." He held out his hands, palms up, as if asking for an
appeal. "And I'm going to lose my house. What am I supposed to
do?"

"Mr. Preston," the judge addressed him with a
kind, firm tone. "Your financial troubles have nothing to do with
your mother being incompetent. Do you see that? If you've made some
poor choices, you'll have to learn how to make better ones."

"Well, I'll get the house someday," Albert
muttered. "I don't see why it can't be now."

"That's up to Mrs. Preston, and not a matter
for this court. Good day."

Gigi winked at Roman. "The ace up my
sleeve."

"Not even close," Roman answered. "You had
this licked all by yourself."

"Maybe," she conceded. "But it was nice to
have back up."

"It was my honor," Roman said.

V
anessa was feeling
a general malaise, just a bit off, and she'd been feeling that way
for quite some time. A little dizzy, a little bloated, and twice
now this week she'd thrown up for no reason that she could figure
out. Viral, she supposed, as the symptoms came and went, and never
turned into anything she could put her finger on.

Despite Roman, and later, Jeff, warning her
away from Suede, Vanessa was still seeing her, and kind of wondered
if she was having some kind of reaction to stress. She felt a lot
of stress lately, although she was happy, and it was good stress,
excitement about Suede.

Suede. Just saying her name made Vanessa
smile. She was still keeping her schedule clear in case Suede was
free or Jeff needed her. But Jeff didn't seem to need her, and
Suede, well, that was sort of the thing… Vanessa wasn't sure what
was going on in her relationship with Suede. Sometimes it seemed
like they were just friends, and other times it seemed like they
were dating. They talked on the phone several times a day. They
shared the intimate minutia of their daily thoughts and
experiences, the little bits of life aggravation that everyone
experienced now and then. And most of the time it was pure bliss,
like how Vanessa imagined having a life partner would be.