Unsuspecting Blessing.

xxi

xxi

Brian's Father, ironically enough, looks like he could be a lawyer himself. Clad in a black suit from head to toe, with an undershirt barely visible; a creeping dark gray that almost emulated the outer suit. His tie, a contrasting light blue striped with silver crosses falling diagonally down the fabric. His face was clean shaven, and his hair combed back in a neat slick hairstyle somewhat reminiscent of a greaser in the 50s. He looked menacing, his lips flat and remiss of any sign of gratitude to see his son. Malignant intent did not seem to prove true, but disregard surely did. He spoke in a toneless, prosaic voice that if left playing for too long would resemble studded snow tires droning along an interstate for hours on end. The desk he sat at was brown and bare, but made from obviously costly materials, and the nameplate that sat on top shined like it could be real gold. The plate read: Skinner.

She could not imagine Brian having such a hostile sounding last name, Peterson felt too natural with his temperament. But the cutthroat last name was perfect for Mr. Skinner it seemed.

Second flew by and Julia realized she spent the whole time observing and not enough time listening, and Mr. Skinner had stood up and put his hand out in the form of an introduction. She shook the rough hand and it left an uncomfortable residue on her palm and fingers.

"Gabriel Skinner," he said, and sat back down in his plump chair made of fake plush leather. The leather was black like his suit, and it made him appear wider. When he stood up, his waist magically slimmed down from the loss of the back-grounding chair. His then slender-looking build and dark patch of hair on his head reminded her of Brian in that instant, but one quick glance at Mr. Skinner's face told her otherwise.

"So I hear you are in need of a lawyer."

She felt surprised at the amount of direct eye contact he made, but Julia supposed he neglected to look at his son out of disrespect. She wondered if he was as frowzy with his other children. "Yes."

"Brian told me about your little accident. Are you hoping to find someone that is inexpensive? Cheap? Costless?" He kept listing more words that became closer to free.

"I am looking for someone that would not mind being paid in increments." She admitted, feeling ashamed of the words immediately.

Mr. Skinner did not speak right away, but instead placed his thumb and forefinger on his tie and rubbed the fabric between them. "Things in this life do not come cheap—"

Brian almost spoke out, but hesitation saved him from conflict. Julia saw him in the corner of her concentrated eye.

"But for someone like you, someone who lacks the ability to gain what they need for necessary survival—because I do consider this just that—I will do my best in your favor."

The explanation he gave her sounded practically foreign to her ears, but she gaped astoundedly at his claim. "Thank you—"

"I am not guaranteeing," he interrupted, "nor am I making promises. I am only stating what I will attempt."

Julia did not speak.

Mr. Skinner rose from his plush chair, and stuck out his hand again.

Julia shook his hand and felt a re-appliance of the queer grimy feeling that overtook her flesh. Though she felt grateful and saw some resemblance after all.

Brian also shook Mr. Skinner—or rather, his Father's—hand. Brian thanked him, and walked me to the door.