Family Bonds

Chapter 15, Episode 1

Jane relaxed on the couch in the new apartment and reached for Chet's hand. He pointed. "This place is nice. Even has a tiny view of Lake Washington."

"Hmm." She leaned her head into his shoulder and sighed. "And Bert likes it. The doctor told me his tumor is growing again." Tears clouded her eyes and there was a catch in her voice. "He hasn't been feeling good for the past few days."

"What are you going to do? Mrs. O'Hara lives too far away to help you."

"I know. After next month, I won't be working at Alice's, and I'll be able to get home quickly from work. With the money from the sale of the duplex, I'll hire a private nurse. And—" she caught her breath "—there's hospice. I called them the other day."

"Does he need it now?"

"Not yet, but I didn't want to wait until he was in severe pain. The doctor said what he's giving him might not be enough much longer ... toward the end." She choked back tears.

Chet held her against his chest and stroked her back and shoulders. "So do we have everything here that you wanted?"

"Almost. Bert's last few boxes, the things he stored in the garage, are about all that's left at the duplex. You and I can move them by ourselves—and my grandfather's trunk." She got up and rummaged in the refrigerator. "Want something to drink? I'm thirsty."

"After we get you all moved, I have to leave. The place I found two blocks off University Avenue is crying for a good cleaning now that all my stuff is in there."

"I'll help you with that." She handed him an icy can of soda. "Here's to the move, this one and yours."

They clinked their cans together.

Minutes later, Chet stood up. "Time to move the last of your stuff, including Bert, and then clean my place."

~ ~ ~

Later that evening, Bert's boxes had been delivered to his room and her grandfather's chest was in Jane's room, along with boxes that had been stored in the attic for years. She shoved the old chest against the end of her bed and opened the boxes one by one. Inside were old clothes she'd long ago outgrown. She set them aside to take to the Goodwill.

"I should have checked these before we moved. What do you suppose is in this old trunk, Bert?"

He looked in at her from the doorway of her bedroom. "Your ma stored things in it. Picture books and stuff. You know, from when Will took pictures. He did that a lot."

"Something for me to take care of. I'm tired of unpacking." She sighed and patted the top of the chest. "Time for dinner. What would you like?"

~ ~ ~

"I'd be honored if you would come, if you aren't busy." Chet mentally fidgeted when Oliver Smythe stood up and turned to gaze out his office window.

He remained there for a long minute before glancing in Chet's direction. "Who else is invited? Your folks?"

"My mom is coming. Since Dad moved out, she hasn't seen him. I left him a message—for him and Eddie—at their office, but I haven't heard. You know how he feels about me and law school. I told Uncle Vince, but I don't know if he can get away. He's in the middle of a trial. Jane's coming." He smiled. "I don't know about Bert. He isn't doing that well."

"How's it going to be for Jane if your father shows up?"

"I doubt he will. If he does..." Chet shrugged. "Maybe you could sit between them to make sure there's no fisticuffs." He chuckled. "Jane told me what she said to him about the duplex. Does he know she sold it for more than he offered?"

Oliver smiled briefly. "I didn't ask, but he stays on top of things like that." He opened his day planner. "First time I've heard of a mock trial being part of a final exam for a pre-law class. The date and time again?"

"Monday after next, at three. The prof moved it out of our regular classroom to one of the larger conference rooms. We moved the chairs around so it looks kind of like a courtroom—only more chairs for the people coming. A couple of my classmates who've already been accepted ... they're bringing people, too."

"Have you an ulterior motive, wanting me to see you in action?"

Do I dare ask? Chet couldn't prevent his grin from broadening. "I was wondering if maybe you'd consider me for your firm after I pass the bar. Except Dad's company is one of your clients and you know I—he and I—we don't get along. I guess I'd have to set aside personal feelings if I worked here."

"That you would." Oliver glanced at him. "I didn't know you were considering corporate law. But that's in the future. You may decide to concentrate on something else." He marked his day planner with the time and closed it with a thud. "I'm honored you want me there. What's your role in this mock trial/"

"I'm a defense attorney." Chet rubbed his hands together. "I've been practicing so I'll have all my arguments down and won't have to look at my notes."

"Good. Look at the jury when you speak. Or will the judge, your instructor, decide?"

"It's a jury trial, although the prof will probably make certain points after the jurors render their verdict."

"The jurors?"

"Members of another pre-law class, and two other profs. One of them ... I think he knows you, Professor Wilms. He's hard. I'm trying not to think how he'll evaluate my defense."

"Marshall Wilms? I remember him. He probably has you pegged for being brighter than he was at your age. Just stay focused on what you want the jury to hear. The best defense attorney will already know the answers to the questions the plaintiff's attorney will ask your client. Anticipate what he's going to argue and you'll do well. Are you questioning any witnesses?"

"No. Just my client and the plaintiff." Chet rubbed a finger along the zipper of his jacket. "The prosecuting attorney I'm up against>She's been accepted at Stanford."

"Don't let her scare you. I'm sure you'll do fine." He smiled. "We'll find out soon enough, won't we?" Oliver reached for his briefcase when his administrative assistant opened the door and pointed to the clock on the wall. "I'll see you there, Chet. Right now, I have an appointment with opposing counsel."

Chet stepped aside to Oliver pass. If I can be like you, I'll be happy—even if you don't ask me to be an associate.