kept pretending to hang themselves with their ties. No on a PowerPoint presentation of baby pictures, and no on having the principal read lame poems about the future. Yes on ham, yes on Nanaimo bars, and yes on getting the class picture taken at Waterfall Park.”
“You’re amazing,” I said.
“Especially since when I was in Grade Eight, there weren’t any ceremonies when we made it to high school. The teachers just booted us out the door.”
“And look how well you turned out,” I said.
“Any complaints?”
“Just the same old lament. I wish you didn’t work so hard.”
“I’m cutting back. I’ve turned down a couple of big cases lately.”
“Alleluia,” I said. “So are you finally going to start handing off some of your files to Sean?”
Zack shook his head. “No, not to Sean. I have somebody else in mind, but we haven’t had a chance to talk, so nothing’s official.”
“That’s a surprise,” I said. “Have you told Sean?”
“Yeah. I told him last night when we were driving back from the cop shop.”
“How did he take it?”
“Not great. He didn’t throw me out of the car or anything, but he was disappointed.”
“Understandably,” I said. “I’m sure he thought he was the heir apparent. He’s been working with you for a long time.”
“True, and while he was working with me, I was able to get a pretty good idea of his capabilities.”
“Good enough for an associate but not for a partner?”
“Yup. Sean is competent, but he’s not partner material.”
“That’s sad,” I said. “He’s devoted to you.”
“I’m not having him euthanized, Jo. As I reminded Sean last night, he has options. He can go to another firm or he can stay on as a senior associate at Falconer Shreve and eat what he kills.”
“What does that mean?”
“Right now, Sean gets a percentage of his billables and if his billables are high, he gets a bonus. As a senior associate, he’d get to keep pretty much everything he brought in.” Zack raised his hands, palms up. “He eats what he kills.”
I shuddered. “That terminology’s a little brutal, isn’t it?”
Zack pushed his chair back from the table. “Life is brutal. Madeleine could tell you that. On the five occasions she and I watched
After we’d cleared away our breakfast things, Zack went to shower and dress and I went to Taylor’s room to get her moving. She was a girl who loved creature comforts, and her bedroom caught the morning sun. Nested in her sheets with the sunshine warm on her face and her cats, Bruce and Benny, at her feet, Taylor had many reasons for staying in bed, but even more reasons for getting up. I kissed her hair. “Time to get up,” I said.
She threw back her sheets and bolted upright. The hormones were kicking in. “Tonight’s the meeting about the Farewell. I am soooooo excited.”
“I guess we should start thinking about what you’re going to wear,” I said.
“I know what I’m not going to wear,” Taylor said.
“That’s a start,” I said. “So what are you not going to wear?”
“The same thing everybody else is wearing: sparkly T-shirt, short ruffly skirt, and sandals with plastic flowers.”
I sat on the bed beside her. “You sound like your mum. When we were in high school, we were both invited to the Battalion Ball at Upper Canada College. Your mother knew that all the girls would be wearing little pearl earrings, pearl necklaces, strapless pastel dresses with tulle skirts, and shoes with illusion heels so they wouldn’t be taller than their dates.
Taylor moved closer. “So what did she wear?”
“A slinky black silk dress with a high neck and long sleeves. She also wore spike-heeled shoes that made her about six inches taller than the boy she was with. He didn’t care. Every time he looked at her, he just about fainted because he couldn’t believe he was with such a knockout.”
It had been a long time since Taylor curled up on my knee, but that morning she put her arms around my neck and moved in close. “I guess you don’t have a picture of her at that dance.”
“No, Taylor, I don’t. I’ve kept a lot of other pictures of your mum. Whenever you’re ready to look at them, you let me know.”
Taylor nodded. “I’ve always just liked looking at the art she made.” She drew closer. “That’s been enough.”
For once, Taylor and I didn’t hurry our time together. We each had our own thoughts, and we both realized moments like this had become finite. Taylor was the one who broke our reverie. “I’d better get ready for school,” she said. “At the Farewell, I’m actually getting some dorky prize for attendance.”
She started to leave, then stopped. “What did you wear to the dance?”
“Little pearl earrings, a pearl necklace, a strapless pastel dress with a tulle skirt, and illusion heels so I wouldn’t be taller than my date.”
Taylor’s smile reflected both love and pity. I felt a pang. It was the smile her mother had given me a thousand times in the years when we were best friends.
When I came out of the shower, Taylor was in my bedroom dressed, munching a piece of toast with peanut butter, and looking critically at the outfit I’d planned to wear to court: a champagne blouse and slacks outfit that I’d loved for fifteen years.
“How come you’re getting all dressed up today?” she asked.
“I’m going to court with Ginny Monaghan.
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Boy, you should hear the jokes the kids tell about her. They say she’s a cougar.”
“Nice,” I said.
Taylor chewed thoughtfully. “It is kind of mean, isn’t it? And you know, last night, she really did seem nice. None of the boys would dance with Gracie because she’s so tall, and Ms. Monaghan told Gracie that it was great being tall – you could see more.” Taylor turned her attention back to my clothes. “Is this what you’re wearing?”
“I like it,” I said.
“I like it too,” Taylor said. “Except you wear it everywhere.” She cocked her head. “That scarf Zack gave me for Christmas would make it look a little less…”
“Boring?”
Taylor raised an eyebrow. “I was going to say ‘beige.’ ” She flashed off the bed and came back with her scarf: a Paul Klee print that was neither boring nor beige. She held it against the blouse. “Okay?”
“More than okay,” I said. “Thanks. Now you’d better scoot. You don’t want to forfeit your dorky prize.”
I’d just opened my laptop to check out the press coverage of Ginny’s case when the phone rang. It was Ed Mariani, sounding buoyant. “I know it’s never too early to call you,” he said. “You’re like Barry – an early bird. After all that travelling yesterday, Barry was up at the crack of dawn, fresh as a daisy, doing his sit-ups. He still has a twenty-eight-inch waist. I tell him that, after the age of forty, no man but a drag queen has a twenty-eight-inch waist, but he just pats the place beside him on the mat and invites me to join him in a few stretches.” Ed sighed. “As if I could. These days, even bending to tie a shoelace is a hero’s journey for me. But I didn’t call to whine. Your Martha Washington geraniums are ready to be hardened, and when Martha’s ready, she’s ready. Can I drop them by some time this morning?”
“Sure, but can you make it in the next hour? I promised Ginny Monaghan I’d be in court with her this morning.”
“How come?”
“Quid pro quo. I’m going to stay with her campaign until E-Day, then use Ginny’s experience for that script about women in politics I showed you.”
“Shrewd move,” Ed said. “What you wrote is thoughtful and well researched, but it’s a little…”
“Beige?” I said.
