“We haven’t discussed them yet.”
“I see.”
“Everything is in my name,” I said.
“Yes, but she has common property rights.”
“How will that affect me?”
He was looking through the lists again. “How is the house titled?”
“Through a trust. It’s in my name.”
“That was to keep your wife off the title?”
“That wasn’t the reason. It was better for taxes. And she wasn’t involved in the closing.”
“I understand.” Twice he started a sentence but backed off, trying to find the best words. “How do you think she’ll react when you do discuss your plans?”
“She will not be in agreement.”
“Will she actively work against you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Specifically, would she file for divorce?”
“I guess it’s possible.”
“I see.” The sentence was having a hard time getting out. “It can change everything if she does. It would give her standing to obtain a court injunction against any transfer of assets. Short of a divorce, she could only contest the sale of the house. It’s her residence. Once she files, everything you own can be contested.”
“What if I don’t tell her?”
That took more thought. “I don’t think it would work. The court could possibly intervene retroactively and invalidate the contracts, especially if the assets were still intact. And, Mr. Boyer, you won’t be able to do this secretly. These transactions are going to be public. I think we both know how the news media will react to any news about your family, especially something of this magnitude, and in the middle of all the political scandals going on.”
“Go ahead anyway,” I said. “If we have to deal with divorce proceedings, we will.”
“Yes, sir.” We’d been talking for ten minutes or so, and he allowed himself a brief familiarity. “I hope it won’t come to that.”
“Just be ready for anything.”
31
There was no hope. Now I was speeding down the highway I’d watched from my high tower, peeling off the miles between us. I went through a dozen ways to say it but they were all the same. We had been such partners, even yesterday, and now what? Was there any hope?
I pulled up in front of the house. Whose house was it? Melvin’s or Katie’s? Not mine. Maybe I should just give it to her.
She was in the kitchen with Rosita. They were side by side at the table, papers in front of them, planning the week’s menu.
“Jason!” I’d startled her. “Where have you been all day?”
“Let’s talk,” I said.
She excused herself and we walked together upstairs to my office. She closed the door behind herself. Then we sat awhile quietly, both of us waiting to hear what I would say. The seconds dragged into a minute and then minutes, and finally the silence said what I couldn’t bring myself to say.
“So, what are you going to do?” she said, struggling, through tight lips.
“I’m giving it to the foundation,” I said.
I couldn’t make it any better. The words were hammer strikes against her. “What will we have left?” The words wavered, barely making it through the air between us. All I had for her was more blows.
“Nothing, Katie.”
“The house?”
“Nothing.”
I’d seen two men ruined in just five days, not just their careers but themselves. I’d heard death in their voices and seen it in their eyes. But now, this third time, this voice and these eyes were so precious to me, and the death in them was my death as well as hers. Mine was the fourth life being shattered by my own desperate stupidity.
“No!” The force of her word and the force of her hand against my face were equal.
“Yes.” My cheek stung and I thought she would slap me again. I just waited and didn’t move.
“You liar.” Now the storm broke. “You said I could have this house. You cruel… liar!”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry! You gave it to me!”
“It wasn’t mine to give.”
“We could have everything!” She was yelling as loud as she could and still sob at the same time. “Last night we had it all in our hands. There was nothing to stop us. And now, you… you fool! I hate you!”
“Don’t,” I said. Everything she’d said was true. How could I have been more cruel to her? Buy a house, Katie. Buy everything! Anything you want! And now… what a fool she was to have trusted me.
The door slammed behind her. Some time later I could move again and I opened it and went downstairs. I told Rosita that Katie wouldn’t be down for a while. Then I left. I didn’t take anything.
Eric was not home. That was good. The drive to his apartment hadn’t been long enough. I let myself in and waited. I focused my thoughts on what I would say here-mainly to pull them off of Katie.
There was a little noise from the street, but it was mostly quiet. All I could hear was Katie’s voice. How could I get her out of my ears?
I tried to concentrate on my brother instead.
What would he be like if he’d had more struggle in his life? There were no roots. A good yank would pull the tree right out of the ground, and he’d be getting a real jerk soon. Me.
My cell phone rang.
“Hello, Fred,” I said.
“We need to talk.”
“We sure do,” I said. “I’ll call you this evening sometime. I don’t know when. You should come to my office.”
“I’m in my office now. There’s already been reaction in the state senate leadership. Forrester has been trying a counterattack.”
“I’ll call you later.” That would be another conversation to look forward to.
I waited more. There were no books in the apartment, not even magazines-just all the televisions. The place was swept clean. It was the mirror of his soul, a place to never think. I propped my feet up on the big heavy coffee table. If I stayed long enough, all thought would be sucked out of my own brain…
“Jason?”
I woke with Eric standing in front of me. He was in cool outfit number four-torn jeans, gunmetal sweatshirt. Katie had them listed out on index cards so he’d know what went with what. Or maybe this was outfit number five.
“Hi.” I shook out cobwebs. “I guess I fell asleep.”
“What’s up?”
“Sit down.”
He sat facing me. Even he could tell this was serious.
“Is something wrong?”
“Eric… I’ve made some decisions.”
“Okay.” His face lit up. “You’re going to be a senator! Just like-”
“No.”
