HARMONY

Part 47 "Can we get it right?"

Drew headed to the right, where he usually met his family. He took two robotic steps, looked up and froze. Dad? He hurried toward him with one thought-- Don't cry.

His father's arms wrapped around the imprisoned son. No words were exchanged. Drew bit his lip and marinated himself in his favorite scent—Old Spice.

Rosalia began with her update on court dates and motions. The list of character witnesses continued to grow, with many parents from Special Olympics agreeing to testify on Drew's behalf. Drew could not stop looking at his father. A tempest of rage and relief washed through him.

"Drew," Rosalia said. "I know Bruce's death complicates matters, but I want you to know we're still on the same track to prove your complete and total innocence."

"You're not a murderer darling," Michelle said reaching for his hand.

"Mom, I killed him. I took the lamp and---"

Claire leaned toward him. "Oh my God Drew, like, he so had it coming."

"Clarie," Michelle hissed. "And Drew. We shouldn't be talking about this here."

Claire leaned back with her arms folded as Drew looked away.

Rosalia finished sharing a few more important points, stuffed papers back into her attaché case and walked to the back of the room.

Michelle reached across the table to touch Drew's hands. "We're going through a lot as a family, but right now our only focus is on you."

"Seriously Mom," Claire said. "Did you rehearse that?"

"Claire, don't disrespect your mother," Steve said.

"Somehow, I'm not feeling any better," Drew said. "About any of this."

Michelle looked to Claire as Claire rolled her eyes. Michelle turned back to Drew. "When your trial comes, we will have all the evidence lined up to prove your innocence beyond any doubt."

Every muscle in Drew's face tightened. "Dad, where the fuck have you been?"

Steve interlocked his fingers, placed his fists on the table and leaned forward. "I did a stupid, selfish, impulsive thing." Silence. He took a deep breath. "I went to the Wicked Snicker concert with Uncle Chad and just thought I was going to be a roadie for a few days and a few days became weeks and I..." He leaned even closer toward Drew. "Son, I didn't know all this was happening to you. I didn't have a phone and when I did talk to Uncle Chad he tried to tell me, but I wasn't right in my mind and I thought he was making up some story and I--"

"You thought Uncle Chad would lie about something like this?" Drew said. "I'm being charged with rape and murder. Are you fucking kidding me? Like someone would make that up."

"Your anger is certainly justified," Steve answered. "But what's important is that I'm here now."

"My anger?" Drew said. "I'm so far beyond anger." He got up and walked to the deputy to take him to his room.

Michelle gave the wine glass a slight twist, then, she drained it. "Flag down the waiter and get me another glass."

"Should I just order a bottle?" Steve said.

"Are you saying I'm drinking too much?"

"No," Steve said. "Just thought, that...I don't know what I thought."

The two fell again into silence. Steve squirmed in the overstuffed wicker chair and looked up at the bamboo fans revolving overhead. Despite the night chill, the two remained on the patio "happy hour" section of the Beach Bottom Bar and Grill.

"I don't know what you want from me, Michelle."

"What I want from you? Are you fucking kidding me?" Michelle craned her neck again for a waiter. "What I want is a glass of wine."

"I'm going to make this right," Steve said, looking over his shoulder for the same phantom server. "I meet with Chad tomorrow and once I get that squared away, I will have a better handle on our personal finances. Following that, I will discuss our options with Russ and from there we can—"

"We can what?" Michelle lifted her empty wine glass and pointed toward the waiter in the corner. "We can just waltz into Coto and pick out a new house? You can pretend you have a job? Make up some income out of the air like a...a.... I don't know, some wizard?"

"Your anger is understandable."

The waiter filled her glass. She grabbed the bottle. "Leave this here."

"Yes ma'am."

"My anger? So help me God Steve, the only thing stopping me from smashing this bottle across your fucked up forehead is I don't want any distraction from Drew."

"I understand."

She emptied her glass and took a swig from the bottle before refilling. "One more condescending comment and I will—I will so help me—I will tear out your eyes."

Steve finished his Tom Collins and began his quest for the waiter. "I just don't know what you want me to say." He waved to the waiter and pointed to his glass. "I've told you everything and all I can do is try to undo the damage and get us back on our feet."

The waiter brought two Tom Collins and hurried off.

"Us? There is no fucking us. Once we get Drew out of that damn prison, I'm filing for divorce."

Steve tried to reach for Michelle's hand, but she pulled it away. He finished his drink and pushed the second one in front of him. "I don't want us to make any of those decisions right now. Yes, Drew is our focus and I'm going to straighten things out and when the dust clears, we can see where we're at."

"Where we're at?" she said. "I'll tell you where we're at. You're a coward and I'm gone."