Javi
February 14th
Baltimore, Maryland
Late one evening, I was still at my desk well past eight. I was reading a brief for one of my cases when there was a soft tap at my office door. I looked up to see Jack Robinson, one of the three founding members of the law firm standing in my doorway. A tall man, fifty-five-ish, with salt and pepper running through his light brown hair, and large brown eyes. He’d taken off his tie, his sleeves were rolled up, and a pensive look crossed his face.
“Hey Young Man, I’m surprised you’re still here. Shouldn’t you be out painting the town red with some charming young person?”
“Maybe next year,” I said dryly. “I’m flying solo these days.”
“Well then, I’m glad I caught you in any case. I wanted to talk to you about a couple of things if you have a moment.”
“Fire away,” I said, putting aside my reading.
“So the first is the pro-bono stuff we talked about last summer. I keep saying that we should offer clinic hours, but I just can’t get Richard on board with it.”
I couldn’t hide my grimace. I wasn’t surprised; the two partners were often at odds.
“However,” Jack went on. “I think I’ve figured something out. You know I’m planning to ease into retirement in the next few years, and that means that someone is going to need to take over some of the legal stuff I do for Kevin Linden’s charity. I can think of no one else I’d rather hand the reins over to. We can start the process now to make it a nice, smooth transition.”
“Really?” I tried to control my shock. The Linden House was one of Jack’s personal pet projects. He devoted no small amount of time to helping them with their legal and compliance needs, but also rolling up his sleeves and mentoring the kids that stayed there.
“Really. You’ve got the right temperament for it.” He gave me a smile. “You also understand what it means to me, which is the biggest reason I want it to be you.”
“Thank you, that means a lot, especially coming from you.”
“As such, I’m thinking of having a little get-together at the house in a week or two to raise some money for them. I’ll get you the date once I have it finalized, and I’ll introduce you to Kevin. And I’ll see if I can get Maury to come down, too. Make it a real party.”
Maury,-short for Maureen- lived in New York. I’d never met her, but Jack spoke of his daughter often and I felt like I knew her. There were pictures of her all over his office; a pretty young woman, about twenty-eight or thirty, with olive skin, big green eyes and long black hair. Jack never talked about her mother and no one at the office ever talked about her, either. There were no pictures of her. I didn’t even know her name. As far as I knew, Maury was the only living family he had. When I helped him set up his living will and such a few years before, hers was the only name mentioned. He adored her, and it was evident every time he spoke her name.
“I look forward to meeting her,” I said. Jack nodded and pushed his glasses up his nose.
“The other thing is somewhat related. We’re going to move forward with the branch down at the beach. We’ve started the process of working with a real estate broker and they’re putting together a list of properties to show us in the spring. I’ve talked it over with Richard and Roger, and I want you to come run it with me.”
“Jack I-” I felt overwhelmed. “That’s amazing, thank you.”
“It’s going to be hard work, so I don’t know how thankful you’ll be once we get down there, but I really enjoy working with you, Javi. I’m sure you know that, but just in case I don’t make it clear; I think you’re a very good person with a very good heart, and there’s precious little of that in our industry.”
“Stop, you’re going to make me cry.”
“All right, all right, I’m going to hit the road,” he said standing up. “I hope you’ll think about heading home soon, too. Don’t get into the habit of these late nights, or you’ll wind up like me.”
“I can think of worse things.”
He chuckled lightly and headed back to his office. I decided to take his advice and head home. I was waiting for the elevator when he came out of his office with his things in his hands.
“Good,” he said, aprising the situation with a good natured grin. His phone buzzed and he fished it out of his pocket, smiling as he did. “Sorry, Maury was showing off some sketches working on.” He smiled indulgently. “I’m surprised she’s not out tonight, either. I don’t know what that meathead she’s dating does for work these days, but I assume he can take her out to dinner for Valentine’s day,” he grumbled.
I let out a huff of amusement. I knew that Jack didn’t particularly care for Maury’s partner based on context clues. He brought it up now and then, but I always figured most dads don’t care for their daughters’ boyfriends. Idly, I wondered how my own father felt about my sister’s husband.
“Anyway, have a good night, Javi,” he said as the elevator doors opened.
“Good night, Jack,” I replied, heading to my Jeep.
Once I was at home, I unbuttoned my dress shirt as I stood in front of the fridge. I stared at the scanty contents as if they might hold the secrets of the universe, or at least inspire a creative spark for something for dinner. Liv – my sister Olivia that is, would probably shake her head and tell me that I had to stop living off junk.
“You’re a grown man, learn to cook,” she would tell me.
“Why would I do that, when I can just show up here and get sent home with an armful of leftovers?” I often teased back. Instead, I grabbed a beer and took a few swallows before resuming my search.
I can cook. By that I mean, I can feed myself. Late nights at the office make it hard to find time… And to be honest I don’t particularly enjoy cooking for one. It’s hard to see the point in going to a lot of effort when my sister’s house is just a quick drive from my apartment. It’s easier to live off of cereal and peanut butter sandwiches instead of buying produce that’s going to go bad before I can use it all. There’s also a specific type of patience for cooking that I just don’t seem to possess.
As I rummaged for something, my mind wandered. Jack’s proposition was exciting. The Linden House is a well respected and highly rated charity for young adults aging out of the foster care system.
Jack’s passion project and he wants to turn the reins over to me. The prospect of using my education to do some good, instead of just helping wealthy private equity magnates hide and hoard their money filled me with renewed purpose, something that my work lacked in recent days.
My half finished beer left a ring of condensation on the coffee table. Cursing, I wiped up the water with the hem of my undershirt before it could stain. I wanted my security deposit back when I eventually moved out of the furnished apartment. I’d put off buying furniture when I moved out on my own because I always thought it was pointless. I didn’t really care how things looked. I spent little time at home, and when I did, I was generally too tired to do much of anything but watch TV.
I checked my watch. It was getting late, but not too late to call my best friend, Liza. Belatedly as the line began to ring, I thought she might be out with her wife for the holiday, but she answered.
“Happy Valentine’s,” I greeted her.
“And to you.”
“Did you and Heather do anything fun?”
“No, one of the goblins is sick and we couldn’t in good conscience do that to a babysitter.” She sighed. “Daycare man, it’s a petri dish.”
“Bummer,” I replied, but I couldn’t hide my excitement. I was bursting to tell her the news.
“How are you?” She asked. “You sound… off.”
“I’m fine. Better than fine, actually. I had a really good chat with Jack Robinson tonight,” I replied. “We talked about my future, and my career. He’s going to set me up with the guy who runs that charity he volunteers for. I’m pretty excited about that.”
“Very nice.”
“There’s more.”
“Oh? What else does the future hold for Mr. Javier Cordero, esquire?”
“Potentially moving to Rehoboth.”
“Shut up, really?” Liza, her wife and kids lived just outside Salisbury, a short drive from Rehoboth. “Like, we might actually be able to get together on a random Tuesday and have a drink like two normal adults?”
“I think so.”
After a while, Liza bid me goodnight and went to spend the evening with her wife. I scrolled aimlessly on social media to distract myself from getting too wound up thinking about Jack’s offer. I wasn’t looking for her, but after a while, a post from my ex-girlfriend, Kara, showed up in my feed. It was a picture of her at some sunny cafe in Italy – where she now lived – wearing big sunglasses. She’d cut her hair short since last I saw her in my feed. A glittering diamond ring sparkled on the third finger of her left hand.
After we broke up five years earlier, we tried to remain friends. It quickly devolved into that sort of online friendship where you never talk, but occasionally like a post or wish “Happy Birthday”. After some internal debate, I clicked on her profile to unfollow her. I noticed that she had already unfollowed me at some point. It didn’t hurt, it just felt like another sign that we weren’t quite right for each other. I unfollowed her, and then closed the app. I wondered when she did it.
Kara was a pretty driven sales executive for a cosmetic company. We met and were friends in college, but we didn’t start dating until after graduation. Our relationship was casual from the beginning, but we were getting to the point where things probably should be getting serious when Kara was offered a job in Italy. I had just gotten the job at Robinson, Santos & Wagner, and I didn’t want to give it up. We tried long distance, but eventually, she broke it off. I supposed she saved me the trouble of coming to the realization on my own that we weren’t the right fit a few more months down the line.
In the dark corner of my mind, an irritating whine started to buzz. I wondered if maybe I just wasn’t cut out for relationships. I tended to do well when dating casually, but the minute things started to get serious, I would pull back. My toxic trait, I suppose. I’ve never had trouble meeting women. I don’t have any illusions about myself: I’m educated and generally consider myself a decent human. Looks-wise, I’m tall and in shape with a thick head of hair. I have a good job. People also say I have a little bit of an accent. Some folks seem to like it; the holdover from my immigrant parents… But for all my supposed charms, I could never quite make myself pull the trigger. I never met anyone that made me feel that thing you’re supposed to feel. I wanted to… But maybe it wasn’t in the cards for me, I thought as I swatted those buzzing thoughts away. Delete
The following day, I was at my desk for a few hours, reading through a brief when there was a light tap at my door, but this time it was Sylvia Viner, Jack’s assistant, and Roger Santos, one of the other founding partners standing there.
“Javi, will you come with me, please?” Roger asked, and I felt my stomach dip as I followed him to his office. Sue from HR was there. Surely they wouldn’t fire me after Jack just told me that he wanted me to essentially take over for him?
“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing for me to sit when we arrived at his office. Sylvia took the chair on the other side of me. Sue sat next to Roger. Something about their somber expressions unsettled me. Sue was never a very extroverted person, but Roger and Sylvia were both usually jovial, boisterous people. Sylvia looked as if someone had struck her across the face. It was a haunted, shell shocked expression that filled me with dread.
“There’s no easy way to say this,” Sue said. “Jack’s had a stroke, or something similar. He’s in the hospital having emergency surgery. His daughter is on her way down from New York, and we’ll know more when she gets here, but it’s very serious.”
My jaw fell slack, and for a moment, there was no air in the room.
“Oh my god,” I said once the words sunk in. “I just saw him last night, he looked perfectly fine, I can’t… I can’t believe…”
“Me either,” Roger said softly, then he sighed. “I’m going to make an announcement to the office in a bit, but what I need for you to do is to pull all of his paperwork you put together around his living will, medical stuff, and so on, I want to have all that ready to go for Maury if she needs it. You know it best. Organize it, and box it up. Anything that needs her signature needs to go on top. The last thing she needs right now is to worry about handling any paperwork.”
“You got it.”
Sylvia unlocked Jack’s office for me and I went to work. I organized everything and started putting the files into boxes. Sorting everything into piles, I dutifully grabbed everything that I thought would be needed. I straightened up the files and handed them off to Sylvia for safekeeping until we knew more about what might be needed, then I went back to my office and tried to keep a lid on my own emotions. I felt so useless; some combination of fear, worry, and sorrow all mixed together in an unpleasant soup in the pit of my stomach.
Around noon, Roger called an all hands meeting and announced Jack’s predicament to the office: A brain aneurysm had ruptured. The extent of the damage wouldn’t be known for a few days. A collective gasp went through the group. Jack, and by extension Maury, were well liked by the staff, and everyone’s grief for them both was palpable. A few people asked how I was, commenting on Jack’s fondness for me, my fondness for him. My mentor. My friend.
Later in the day, I was in the break room when one of the junior associates came in behind me.
“Hey man, how are you holding up?”
“I’m doing okay. How are you?” I asked.
“All right. Wild about Jack, huh?
“Yeah, it feels really surreal.”
“My great uncle had a stroke about fifteen years ago. He’s a vegetable now, living in some facility, drooling and staring at the wall all day.”
“Geeze, dude.” I said. “I hope it won’t be as bad as all that.” He shrugged, and dunked a spoonful of sugar into his mug. I lingered in the break room for a few minutes after he left to avoid making more morbid small talk with him on the way back to our desks. Finally, just before the end of the day, Roger made the announcement that Jack was out of surgery, and that we wouldn’t know much about his condition for a few days.
“Maury is going to be staying in town for the foreseeable future, so we’ll need to do whatever we can to support her through this,” Roger added. There was a murmur of agreement through the crowd, but as I cast my eyes over to Richard Wagner, I thought I saw him smirk a little bit. Of the three founding partners, I like Richard the least, and the feeling has always seemed to be mutual. A stocky, barrel chested man with a completely bald head, and cold, calculating, muddy green eyes that his smiles never quite reached. He didn’t like me; that was clear. He let me know in all the small ways men like him do; assigning me menial tasks like filing, giving me all of the translation work for the firm, questioning every decision I made. No one particularly liked Richard. Roger got along with him best, but Richard seemed to hate Jack even more than he hated me. Jack rarely spared a word or a glance at Richard, which seemed to stoke his hatred even more. He didn’t even bother trying to look sad about the news.
The next few days were understandably somber. Regular updates on Jack’s condition went around via email, and we were encouraged to send cards and flowers. While the tone of the initial communication was hopeful, after about ten days it became clear that Jack was going to be dealing with long term speech and mobility issues, and likely would not be returning to work at Robinson, Santos & Wagner. That broke my heart a little bit.
I debated going to see him in the hospital. I hate hospitals, though I’m sure most people do. I spent what felt like almost five solid years in the hospital with my mother through round after round of chemo and surgery and chemo and surgery until her heart finally gave out. The memory of seeing her hooked up to IVs and monitors, her frail body dying around her sent a harsh shiver down my back… But Jack meant a lot to me. I shoved the feeling deep down inside and headed down to Baltimore General after leaving the office.
I poked my head into the room. Jack was sitting up in bed, his normally tan skin grayish, almost translucent looking. Gauzy bandages wound around his head. I almost didn’t recognize him. A woman was sitting in the chair next to his bed. I tapped lightly on the door, and she looked up at me. It was Maury, though she looked like a shadow of the woman in the pictures Jack kept in his office. I felt so sorry for her, knowing how difficult the days must be. Her eyes were glassy like she hadn’t slept. Her hair was unkempt, falling out of a loose bun and her skin looked almost ashen. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, picking at already raw skin around her nails. The room was full of cards, flowers, stuffed animals, fruit baskets and god knows what else. It was almost hard to move around.
“Hi, I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I work with your dad. I just wanted to come visit for a bit, if that’s okay.”
“Ah, yeah, it’s fine. Please come in.” She stood up.
“Javier Cordero,” I said, extending my hand. She looked at it for a second, as if she wasn’t sure what I was doing, then she seemed to give herself a mental shake, and took it.
“Maury,” She replied, her voice dull and lifeless.
“I’m so sorry. Your dad is very well loved around the office.”
“Yeah, people have been visiting,” she replied.
“Are you hanging in there?” I asked, unsure of what else to say. I wanted to kick myself. Didn’t I hate it when people asked how I was when Mom was sick? As if I could be anything but consumed with anxiety and worry.
“Not at all.” She laughed humorlessly.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, everybody’s sorry,” she muttered. She shook her head. “I”m sorry. I need to excuse myself. Can you just… If anything happens just press this button, okay?” She pointed.
“Sure,” I watched her head towards the vending machines. I sighed.
“Hey Old Man,” I said softly. He tilted his head slightly and made a gurgling noise, then grunted.
“Hey,” I said again.
“Hhhhh.” he croaked. Not quite words, but it gave me some hope.
“You gave me a scare, Old Man.”
He pointed his eyes to the ceiling and then back to me.
“Roger and Richard are keeping everyone updated. We all hope you’ll be back soon.”
I heard Maury come in behind me.
“Thanks, sorry, I just…” She took a deep breath. She had a cup of coffee in her hand from the vending machine. “I’m sorry, I should have asked if you wanted anything.”
“Please, don’t worry about me. I wish we’d met under better circumstances, but I’m going to get going. I’ll be thinking of you and your dad,” I said. I didn’t want to leave, but I wasn’t sure what I could do for either of them.
“Thanks,” She said absently, wiping a bit of drool from her dad’s face with a tissue.
On the drive home, a memory came back to me. Two, maybe three years before his accident, Jack came to my office on another late night after everyone went home.
“Hey Young Man. I need to ask you a favor.”
“Shoot,” I said. “Anything you need, boss.”
“I want to put together a pretty comprehensive end of life directive, and a living will. I want to put aside money for… I mean, in case I wind up being too sick to work or something. You know… So my daughter won’t have to worry.”
I nodded, and pulled my legal pad in front of me, flipping to a clean page. I jotted down notes while Jack spoke. He outlined the details.
“You’ve got a pretty good handle on what you want to do,” I told him when he finished explaining. “I can figure out a way to make it all happen.” I turned to look at him. “It’s none of my business, but is everything okay?”
“It’s fine, I just want Maury to be taken care of. When I’m gone… Well, she’ll be all alone. I just want to make sure she’ll be okay.”
He fell silent then, his eyes glassy. He cleared his throat after a moment, and tapped the edge of my desk for emphasis as he spoke again.
“I want her to be taken care of.” He raised his eyes to meet mine. “Javi, if anything happens to me… Take care of my girl, okay? Let her know that this is here for her.”
“Of course, but you’re not going anywhere for a long time, Old Man,” I said gently. Jack gave me a weak smile. We talked for a bit longer, but the real work would take a few weeks to put together. Jack had very specific instructions, down to what song he wanted played at his funeral.
“And I want Maury to pick out my clothes for the service. She’ll know what I’d like.” I wrote that down.
“Jack, are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”
“You never know what life is going to throw at you,” he said. “I just want to be prepared. What I went through with my parents… I don’t want that for her.”
Had Jack somehow known something was wrong? That filled me with sorrow, reframing our conversation into something else entirely. He was so worried about leaving Maury on her own. Then I started thinking about my mother again, telling me to look after my dad and siblings, and before I knew it, I was in the parking lot of my apartment complex. Once I was settled in, I called my sister Olivia. Of my four siblings, I’m closest to her in age, and closest to her in general, but it wasn’t unusual for us to go a couple of weeks without talking beyond texting. She didn’t have any social media, so she only got updates when I offered them. I decided it was time for us to check in.
“Hello Javi,” she said when she answered. “To what do I owe the pleasure of the sound of your voice?” she sounded so much like Mom in that moment and it made my breath catch in my throat before I could answer.
“Just calling to catch up,” I said. I didn’t mean to sound morose, but Liv could hear it in my voice.
“What’s wrong?”
I huffed.
“One of the senior partners had a brain aneurysm a few days ago, I just got home from visiting him in the hospital.” I paused and then went on. “It’s just got me thinking about Mom.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said gently.
“Jack, the senior partner, was about Mom’s age, too. His daughter was there, and it was like her whole world had ended. It was just really… I don’t know how to put it into words.”
“I remember you talking about Jack now,” she said. “Oh Javi, what a terrible thing.”
“Yeah,” I said. “He’s a really great man.”
“I wish I knew what to say.” Liv softly. “Do you know his daughter well?”
“Not at all, today was the first time we ever met,” I paused, and before I could stop myself, a slight chuckle escaped my lips.
“What?” Liv asked.
“It’s not really funny, just… Strange, I guess. I don’t really know her, but Jack talks about her so much I feel like I do. It’s an odd feeling.”
Liv made a noise of agreement, and then she was quiet for a moment.
“Javi, you know you did the best you could, right? With Mom?” she asked when she spoke again.
“I know,” I said softly. “It doesn’t change the fact that I feel like I failed, though.”
“I get that, but you have to stop beating yourself up about it. Mom wouldn’t want you to-”
“I know,” I said again.
“Okay,” she said firmly. “Then quit it.”
“Yeah, I love you too.” I muttered.
“I do love you. Check in with me tomorrow if you need to talk.”
When I finally was able to fall asleep, I dreamed of Venezuela. I barely remember it. But I dreamed we were there, and that Mom was with us. It was a good dream, but I still woke up feeling sad.
Sitting on the bed, I rubbed my eyes and tried to find the fucks to give to get up and get to court on time.
I am so tired of trying to find these assholes new ways to hide money.
With a sigh, I got up and started getting ready for the day.