“I’m prepared to take one for the team.”
My husband did the team proud. When we were finished, I kissed his shoulder. “What did you say your name was again?”
“Planning to recommend me to your friends?
“No. I was thinking of using your services during take-off.”
“I’m available, but you’d better bring a blanket.”
Our flight left Regina at noon. Zack was due in court at ten to hear the judge’s sentencing of his client in the road-racing case. The timing was going to be tight, but our bags were packed and we lived seven minutes from the airport. After we said goodbye to Taylor, Zack went to the office and I took the things Taylor needed for the weekend over to the Wainbergs’. Delia had already left for court, so Noah and Jacob met me at the door.
Jacob was curled in the crook of Noah’s arm. It was difficult to reconcile the mental image of the gentle man in front of me, his face creased in a smile of welcome, with the scene of animal violence Zack’s account had painted. My eyes stayed on Noah’s face a beat too long, and he noticed.
“Is something the matter?” he said.
“Zack told me about Murray Jeffreys,” I said.
“What did he tell you?”
“That the two of you were fighting and Murray Jeffreys died of a heart attack.”
“I’ve spent a lot of years trying to make up for that night,” Noah said simply. “Now come inside. You arrived just in time for a landmark in Jacob’s life. Today we begin vegetables. First up – strained pureed peas.”
Noah’s voice, warm and ordinary, was deeply reassuring. “I don’t think I could handle peas at eight-thirty in the morning,” I said.
“You don’t have to. You just have to watch.”
Jacob was an eager eater. He gobbled the peas as if they were truffles. “Good man,” Noah said. “So the plan is that you pick up Zack and Delia and leave your car at the airport?”
“That’s the plan. Zack got a call last night that the sentence for that road-racing case is coming down this morning. He’s a little tense about it.”
“He shouldn’t be. You know how compelling Zack is in the courtroom, and he has the Criminal Code on his side. It says an appropriate sentence is based half on the offence and half on the offender. What Jeremy Sawchuk did was horrific, but from what I hear, he’s a decent kid who was guilty of a terrible lapse of judgment.”
“A lapse that proved fatal for his best friend,” I said.
“And Jeremy will live with that for the rest of his life. He’ll also have a criminal record, but in my opinion, society will not be served by throwing him in the penitentiary for twenty years.”
“Still… ”
Noah wiped a smear of peas from Jacob’s chin. “I don’t have the answers, Jo. As a lawyer, I was pretty much of a bust. But at the risk of sounding self-serving, I don’t see the justice in having fifteen minutes of stupidity wreck an otherwise fairly blameless life.” He untied Jacob’s bib. “The cafe is closing, bud. Time to turn off the deep fryer and clean you up.” His eyes shifted to me. “Jo, there’s a washcloth over there on the counter, would you mind?”
I walked over to the sink, dampened the cloth with warm water, and handed it to Noah.
“Have you ever wished you’d made a career of the law?” I said.
“No,” he said. “Look at the Winners’ Circle. They were the best, and their lives have not exactly been the stuff of dreams. Chris committed suicide; Kevin wandered around Tibet for a couple of years and came back to the firm with ideas that drive everybody nuts. Blake is one of the top-ten real-estate lawyers in Western Canada, but except for Gracie, his personal life has been a disaster. Zack and Dee are the only ones who remained true believers and didn’t crack under the strain. But in my opinion, Zack came close to crashing before he met you.”
“We’re happy,” I said. “That changes a lot.”
“With Zack, there was a lot that needed changing,” Noah said. “When we met in law school, there was something sweet in him, but success made him rapacious – no matter how much he had, it was never enough.”
“He seems content now.”
“He
“You’re going to have to carve another bear for the front lawn,” I said.
He nuzzled Jacob. “I already have the wood.”
The news was on as I was loading the car. Noah had been right. The judge had taken Jeremy Sawchuk’s exemplary record into account and been lenient. He had sentenced the teenager to two years less a day in the provincial jail.
I was relieved. One less burden for Zack.
I texted Zack telling him I was on my way, and when I pulled up in front of the courthouse, he and Delia came out immediately. Zack slid into the passenger seat, folded his wheelchair, and put it next to Delia in the back.
They were both in high spirits. “Zack won,” Delia said. “A good day for the firm.”
“Congratulations,” I said.
Zack snapped his seat belt and turned to me. “How was your morning?”
“Eventful,” I said. “I was there when Jacob was introduced to strained peas.”
Delia leaned forward. “So how did he do?”
“He cleaned his plate,” I said.
“Well, I’m going to be there when he graduates to squash,” Delia said. “I sent a memo to the other partners this morning saying I’m cutting back on my caseload.”
“Dee’s given notice that she’s only going to work twelve hours a day instead of sixteen,” Zack said.
“Ignore him,” Delia said. “I’ve missed out on too much.”
The stab of fear I felt had nothing to do with the fact that within an hour I’d be 35,000 feet in the air. The Wainbergs were operating on the assumption that Jacob was now a permanent member of their family. I had a nagging sense that the matter of his custody was far from settled.
It was a little after six when Delia, Zack, and I arrived at the Lantern Inn & Suites. We’d arranged for a car and driver to meet us at Toronto Pearson International Airport and take us to Port Hope. Spending an hour inside a limo jammed between speeding semis on Highway 401 would normally have made me anxious, but I was preoccupied with my relief at being back on solid ground. That said, when we turned onto the exit that led into town, I think I exhaled for the first time since we left Regina.
It had been many years since I’d spent a Christmas in Port Hope but the town was much as I’d remembered. Now as then, the historic brick buildings that housed the shops on Walton Street were trimmed with evergreen boughs, fairy lights, and fresh holly, but there was something noteworthy about this particular December. I nudged my husband. “Look,” I said. “No snow. We’re meeting Alwyn in the hotel dining room at seven. After we eat, we’ll be able to walk her home.”
“She lives that close?”
“Everything’s that close in Port Hope,” I said.
As the hotel’s Web site had promised, our room on the third floor was spacious and high-ceilinged, with a fireplace, large windows, a terrace overlooking the Ganaraska River, and, best of all, a queen-sized bed with a canopy.
While Zack checked out the new digs, I called the Wainbergs’. Noah reported that Taylor and Isobel had bundled up Jacob, tucked him into his ergonomically correct sled, and taken him to the park to watch the big kids toboggan. He promised to have Taylor call us when she got back. The news from our house was mixed. According to Pete, Willie was fine. However, Pantera was already pining for Zack, and in his grief he had eaten a dozen bran muffins Pete had left on the counter to cool.
“You
Pete sounded exasperated, “You know, Mum, you’d be amazed the stuff they teach at the School of Vet Med.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Do you want Zack to talk to his dog?”
“Not much point,” Pete said. “Pantera would just eat the phone.”
“Are you finding this too much?” I said.
