Part One: Winter

Chapter One

February 14th | New York City 

Maury

Late one rainy evening, I was still sitting at my sewing table sketching a design when my phone rang. It was Jules, my best friend since my freshman year of college.

“Hey Maury. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, what’s shakin’? Did you just get off work?” I asked, brushing eraser dust off the sketch.

“Yeah, it was pretty busy tonight. But… I just wanted to check on you,” she said. “I know you were hoping that Tom would…” Her voice trailed off. I was glad she didn’t finish the sentence, because hearing it outloud would give a certain finality to the situation that I wasn’t quite ready to face.

“I’m fine,” I said lightly, trying to sound more lighthearted than I felt.

“Good, I’m glad, because at work tonight, Kevin Castro asked me if you were seeing anyone,” she said. “I wanted to know if I could give him your number.”

“Kevin Castro dresses like a Country Club golf pro,” I replied. “And he likes to play Devil’s Advocate,” I went on, rolling my pencil back and forth under my palm on the table. “I hate that.”

“Maury! Ugh, my point is, you have interest from other viable male specimens-”

“I’m not sure viable is the right word for Kevin,” I interjected. Jules made a noise that was somewhere between humor and exasperation.

“Are you okay?” She asked after a beat. I set the pencil aside, and glanced around my tiny apartment. My tiny, empty apartment. Not empty in the physical sense; it was cluttered with plenty of half finished projects, sketches, bolts of fabric, and more… But in the emotional sense… Tumbleweeds.

“I’m functioning,” I replied, getting up from my sewing table and flopping back on the couch next to it.

“It’s okay if you’re not,” she insisted. “It’s Valentine’s Day, it’s a tough day to be alone. Especially after…” She let the words hang.

“Why wouldn’t I be fine? It’s not like he was my boyfriend,” I said. “He’s always really clear about that.” I couldn’t keep the tinge of bitterness out of my voice.

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” she said kindly.

“So, did you ask out the hot girl at work yet?” I changed the subject.

“Her name is Kat,” Jules said. “We’re planning a June wedding,” she added, sighing wistfully.

“Oh, so you’ve finally said hello?” I teased.

“Haven’t worked up the nerve,” she admitted.

Before I could reply, there was a tap at my door.

“Hang on a sec,” I told Jules, peering through the peephole.

Tom Logan, my on-again, off-again…Situationship… stood on the other side.. He wore a white button down that he’d undone halfway and black dress pants. 

Probably just left work himself.

“Jules? I’ll call you back.”

“Something wrong?”

“I think a rat is trying to get into my apartment,” I said grimly.

“Ew, gross.” We said good night. With a sigh, I unlocked the deadbolt and latch before letting Tom in.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded. It had been at least three weeks since we last spoke, and when he didn’t make plans with me for Valentine’s Day – again – I decided we were done. For good this time. And there he was, ready to trample all over that resolution.

“What do you mean? It’s Valentine’s,” he said playfully. 

“Barely,” I said, looking at the time. It was after 11. He pulled one very sad looking red rose out from behind his back and handed it to me. 

“Don’t be like that… Of course I’d come see you.” 

“Did you steal this from work?” I asked with narrowed eyes.

“Do you know how expensive roses are on Valentine’s day?” He mumbled, walking past me and flopping down on my couch. “C’mon Babe, you know I would have gotten you a big bunch of roses if I could. This is what you want, right? Romance and all that shit?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t care about flowers,” I said. It was so much more than that.

“Then why are you pissed off now?”

“Because I haven’t heard from you in weeks, and you show up here at in the middle of the night-”

“It’s hardly the middle of the night,” he said. “Besides… Things are crazy with work right now. I’m doing the best that I can.” 

Tom worked part time catering after his career as a model fizzled out, and spent most of his free time smoking weed with his roommates and playing Call of Duty… Not exactly something that actually took up a lot of time and mental bandwidth. I rolled my eyes at that, and looked back at him incredulously. 

“I just wanted to see you,” he went on, giving me a wounded look.

“Why? You couldn’t be bothered to call me back after Jules’s party.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. You know I’m really bad at that. I just get so caught up in stuff. But I thought about you a lot. I thought about you all day today,” he said, his voice turning husky. He looked at me, his blue eyes wide, trying to look sincere. He could really turn on the charm when he wanted something. I resolved to not be swayed.

“I think you should leave,” I said, opening the door wider.

“Don’t be like that,” he replied, getting back to his feet. He swept over to me like he was dancing a waltz. He hummed, taking my arm and turning me slightly so that he was behind me, as if I was his partner on the dance floor. “You know you want me to stay. You know you missed me, too.” His voice was soft as he leaned down to kiss my neck.

“N-no, I think you should go,” I repeated, gesturing to the open door.

“C’mon Babe,” he whispered, and he kissed my neck again, biting down a little. I closed my eyes. “I had a dream that we were in California for a shoot,” he went on, his lips tracing my neck. “You were wearing that black bikini. The one that drove me so crazy that year we went to the Hamptons.” His hands were at my waist, pulling me closer to him. The memories of the times he’d treated me like his girlfriend softened me a bit. His erection dug into my hip. “Let me give you your valentine’s gift.” 

With another sigh, I closed the door and followed him to my bed. I knew it was a bad idea, but he looked so good… And he did come over on Valentine’s Day… At nearly midnight, but still… He took off his shirt and pulled me down next to him. I was only wearing the oversized t-shirt and underwear I slept in, and he fondled my breasts roughly over top of the shirt while kissing me and shoving his tongue into my mouth. After a moment, he moved his hand down and pawed at my underwear. He yanked them off before he took his own pants off, sliding on a condom and then roughly pushing himself inside me. 

“You’re so hot,” he moaned. “Fuck.”

My “Valentine’s Gift” consisted of about 4 minutes of him flopping around on top of me before saying “Thanks, babe,” and rolling over. I laid there for a moment in disbelief at how quickly he’d convinced me to sleep with him, how quickly it was over, and as he let out a snore, at how quickly he fell asleep. I idly wondered if he was faking it to avoid cuddling or talking, both things he didn’t make a habit of doing after our couplings. 

With a grunt, I got up to use the bathroom and immediately stepped on the used condom he’d dropped next to the bed. Cursing under my breath, I picked it off my foot and tossed it in the trash. I grabbed my phone and hobbled to the bathroom. I washed my hands, rinsed my foot off in the shower, and then sat on the closed toilet lid. I leaned back, putting my hand over my eyes. I felt like crying. I’d wanted Tom from the moment we met… And he knew it. This was a pattern; showing up in the middle of the night for sex, saying all the things I was desperate to hear, and then disappearing for days or weeks.

I started to call Jules back, but I knew exactly what she would say. She’d said some variation of it to me over and over again for the last five years:

“Oh god, Maureen Adele Robinson, tell me you didn’t sleep with that recalled Ken Doll again. He is never going to change. What do you even see in him? He treats you like garbage.”

I opened the bathroom door and looked out at the bed. I contemplated his washboard abs, well developed pecs, and the grapefruit sized biceps as he sprawled out across my bed. Those were reasons, but not all of them.

“He makes me laugh,” I would usually answer. Because he did. 

“He also makes you cry,” was her usual retort. Because he did.

I was about to get up and go back to sketching when my phone rang. Expecting it to be Jules, I was surprised when I saw Dad’s number on the screen. 

“Hey Dad,” I said. “It’s late, everything okay?” 

“Everything’s fine, kid. I just knew you’d be up burning the midnight oil as usual,” he said with a chuckle. He was right, I could usually be counted on to stay up well past midnight. “I can’t get to sleep, and while I was thinking about it, I just wanted to see if you could come down next weekend.”

“Uh, maybe. What’s going on?” I looked at my calendar on my phone.

“I want to have a little impromptu-ish dinner party. I’m trying to raise some money for Kevin Rossiter’s charity – it’s the post Holiday season slump -and Mrs. Todd asked about you the last time I saw her, too.” 

Mrs. Todd was a very wealthy woman that could be counted on to open her purse for charity, if you flattered her enough first. She thought she was this generation’s Coco Chanel, and loved to corner me at parties, pretending that her small consignment shop in Baltimore was on par with the designer label I worked for in New York. I found her odious at best, a downright snob at worst. But she had deep pockets, she seemed to like me, and I was overdue for a trip home anyway.

“I’ll try to get down Friday,” I promised. I mentally tallied the projects I was juggling, wondering which I could push the deadline on.

“Good, I haven’t had a decent chess match in weeks. And there’s a couple of people that I want you to meet while you’re here.”

“Can’t wait,” I said with a small smile, wondering if he had collected another Mrs. Todd.

“So I guess you and your uh … friend went out for Valentine’s Day?” 

He must have seen the picture I posted, I realized with a pang.  I didn’t want to lie to my dad, but I also didn’t want to admit how pathetic I was. 

“Uh, no we hung out around my place,” I said carefully. “He brought me flowers though.” 

A flower, anyway.

“When am I going to meet this Meathead? What’s his name again? Tim? I feel like you’ve been going out forever and I don’t know anything about him.”

“Tom, Dad. And… Uh, it’s complicated, you know that,” I said. I lit a cigarette, opening the bathroom window slightly.

“Hmm,” Dad grumbled. He was quiet for a moment. “Are you doing okay, kid?” He asked, his tone softening. “You can talk to me, you know. About anything. You used to always talk to me when you were a teenager.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted, exhaling smoke through the cracked window. “Work is just a little hectic right now.” I could talk to Dad about most things, but I couldn’t talk to him about Tom. I just couldn’t.

“Are you smoking?” I could hear the disappointment.

“No,” I lied.

“I wish you’d quit,” he chastised.

“And I wish I had a pony.”

“In your apartment?”

“You have more than enough room for one, you could keep it for me.” 

He chuckled.

“All right smartass, I’m going to hit the sack, then,” he said. “I’m jogging again, so I have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Good!” I said. “But you be careful, you’re entering those dangerous heart attack years,” I teased.

“Good night, kid,” He said gruffly. “Love you.”

“Love you too Dad,” I said.

We hung up. I finished my cigarette and went to my small kitchen. I made myself some tea, not bothering to be quiet. Tom never stirred. Finally, I put the sad looking rose in a plastic Solo cup of water, leaving it on the breakfast bar before finally crawling into bed. It was a full size mattress and Tom was sprawled out taking up about three-quarters of it. Grumbling, I wedged myself into the tiny available space and tried to sleep. It was nearly 2 am before I was able to fall asleep, but I woke up to the early morning sound of trash trucks a few hours later. It was barely light outside.

I looked over at the other side of the bed. No sign of Tom anywhere. I sat up. He’d probably left the door to my apartment unlocked when he snuck out, the bastard.

Just then my cell phone rang. 

This can’t be good.

“Hello?” My eyes were too bleary to read the number on the screen.

“Maureen Robinson?” 

“Yes?” I yawned.

“My name is Dr. Davis, I’m a trauma surgeon at Baltimore General.”

“What’s happened?” I asked fearfully. “Is… is it my dad?”

“Yes, I’m afraid I have some bad news.” 

I don’t have any memory of what happened immediately after the doctor told me she had bad news, only of sitting back down on my bed, and feeling numb. After a moment, things started to sink in. With shaking hands, I called Tom. I wanted him to come back, to hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay, that he’d go down to Baltimore with me and I wouldn’t have to do this alone.

…But he didn’t answer.

“Tom, it’s Maury… Can you… Can you call me when you get this? It’s… It’s my dad.” I dissolved into tears as I hung up. I sat there for a few more minutes trying to pull myself together. I collected myself enough to call Jules.

“Hello?” She answered groggily.

“Jules,” I said in a flat, dead voice.

“What’s wrong?” Instantly, she sounded wide awake.

“My…My dad. He had a brain aneurysm. He’s in surgery.”

“Oh my god, are you okay? I’ll be…” I heard frantic sounds of drawers opening. “I’ll be right there.”

As I waited for her, I tried Tom one more time. Nothing.

My eyes fell on the sad wilted rose he brought me the night before, sitting in the red solo cup of water. Filled with rage, I lashed out and smashed the cup with my hand, sending water and rose petals everywhere.

Then I collapsed into a heap on the floor, and that’s where Jules found me 20 minutes later.

Chapter Two

February 14th | Baltimore 

Javi

A soft knock at the door to my office pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up and saw Jack Robinson, one of the founding partners at the firm, standing in my doorway. He was about 55 or so with sandy hair that was graying at his temples, and a friendly smile. He had taken off his jacket and his sleeves were rolled up. It was after seven, but it wasn’t uncommon for Jack to stay late. He wasn’t married, and his daughter was grown up and living in New York.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” he said with a smile. “Shouldn’t you be out with some young lady, painting the town red?”

“Maybe next year,” I grinned ruefully.

“Well, I’m glad I caught you, Javi. I wanted to chat with you about a couple of things if you have a few minutes.”

“Fire away.”

He took a seat in one of the chairs opposite me.

“I know we’ve talked a bit about your career path and your goals in the past. I have a little bit of news on that score,” he said. I leaned forward. “I am glad you want to take the initiative for pro bono work, but unfortunately, the firm doesn’t have anything for you right now, however,” he went on with a strange, self satisfied smirk on his face. “I was just talking with Kevin Rossiter a little while ago. He runs a charity that I’m rather fond of, and he could use some help with a few legal items. Usually I handle it myself for him, but I think this would be a good opportunity for you.”

“That would be amazing, Jack. Thank you.”

“While I’m thinking about it, come down to the house next weekend. I’m thinking about having a little get together next weekend, to do a little fundraising for him anyway. Just 10-12 people at my house. I’ll see if Maury can come down.” Maury – short for Maureen – was Jack’s adult daughter. Though I’d never met her, I felt like I knew her. Jack loved to talk about her; she was his pride and joy. “She’s usually good at charming people into opening their wallets. You should come, and I’ll introduce you to Kevin.”

“Wow, thank you.” I said. “I’d love to.”

“Good, good… And now the other thing. Do you remember when I told you I was thinking about my retirement?”

“Yes,” I helped Jack set up a bunch of documents for said retirement, as well as trusts in the event he needed end of life care, about two years prior. His Will was written years before, but I helped him with a living will, giving his daughter power of attorney, so on and so forth.

“Well, Roger, Richard and I have put the wheels in motion on opening a secondary practice, down in Rehoboth, and I would ease into retirement down there. Roger and Richard eventually will, too. We’ve got a decent client base there as well.” 

Roger and Richard were the other two founding partners of the firm. All three of them had second homes in Delaware, and they all spent the summers there. Jack invited me to his sprawling second home a few times. It was a lovely area, and I wasn’t surprised that he wanted to retire there. 

“I want you to come run it with me, and eventually take it over when I do retire,” he went on. “I think you would be the right fit for my clients down there, too.”

I blinked.

“Wow, really?”

“Yes, really.” Jack was looking at me over the top of his glasses. “I’m very fond of you, I think you’re a brilliant young man, I’ve been very honored to work alongside you, Javi.”

“Jack, you’re going to make me cry,” I said softly. “Thank you so much. I’ve really appreciated your mentorship. Thank you.” I repeated. It was true. Jack had stuck his neck out for me, guided me, and helped me many times over my tenure at the firm.

“Don’t thank me yet, it’s going to be hard work… and you know Richard… He isn’t onboard with you running it, yet. We’ll have to convince him.”

“Fat chance of that,” I said, but I smiled anyway. Jack stood up. 

“Leave him to me. I’m going to get going, don’t stay here too late. You’ll wind up like me if you keep pulling these late nights; grumpy and alone.”

“I could do worse,” I said, but I stood up and walked down to the elevator with him. “I’m right behind you, though,” I assured him.

Once in the elevator, his phone dinged. He opened it, and smiled. He held the phone out to me and I could see a picture of his daughter. The picture looked like a party of some sort; Maury was with a group of people. She was quite pretty; about 29 or 30, with long dark hair, olive skin and big green eyes. Next to her was a tall, blonde guy who looked like he spent his time at the gym, not at a desk. His arms were wrapped around her in a very familiar way.

“She made that dress herself,” he said proudly. “She makes all her clothes.”

“She’s very talented,” I said honestly.  I didn’t know the first thing about clothes -that’s my sister, Liv- but the dress fit her well, and the color flattered her complexion, bringing out the bluer tones of her blue-green eyes.  

“She is… I don’t know what she sees in that meathead though.”

I glanced back at the photo and surmised I could probably guess what she saw in said meathead, but I didn’t think it was something acceptable to say to her father, so instead I shrugged.

“She’s a bright girl most of the time,” Jack went on.

“I think we’re all a little bit foolish when we’re in love,” I offered.

Jack considered this, and then nodded, the corners of his mouth turned downward. We rode the rest of the way down to the lobby in silence.

“Have a good night Javi,” Jack said as we parted ways.

“Good night,” I called after him. I went home and changed out of my suit before I settled back in my bed. I pulled out my phone and dialed my best friend, Liza Dannon. We communicated almost daily in some form or another, but it had been a while since I picked up the phone and called her. Belatedly as the line began to ring, I thought she might be out with her wife, 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 my voice betrayed 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. And he’s going to set me up with the guy who runs a charity, so an opportunity for pro bono, too. But the career stuff is what I really wanted to tell you.”

“Very nice, what else does the future hold for Mr. Javier Cordero, esquire?” 

“Potentially moving to Rehoboth.”

“Shut up, really?” Liza, her wife and kids lived not very far from Rehoboth. I’d gotten to know the area fairly well from the times I’d gone down to visit her, and when Jack invited me down. I liked it. The slower pace of life suited me better than Baltimore. “Like, we might actually be able to get together on a random Tuesday and have a drink like two normal adults?”

“Maybe so, Jack is trying to get Richard on board with it, but they want to open another branch down there, and I’d help run it, eventually taking over when Jack retires.”

“The dream, you get out of the city, and have your own practice.” Liza was a lawyer herself, and practiced predominately real estate law. “Lucky duck.”

“It won’t be mine, and I won’t be running it for a long time,” I corrected. “But yes, that would be a dream.”

We chatted for a while longer before Liza bid me goodnight, and went to spend the evening with her wife. After we hung up, I pulled my guitar off of its stand and plucked at the strings for a while, but I quickly grew bored with it. I scrolled social media for a while instead. 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 and presumably her new partner at some sunny cafe in Italy, where she now lived. She’d cut her hair short since the last time she showed up in my feed, and a large diamond ring glittered on the third finger of her left hand.

We broke up 5 years earlier and tried to remain friends, but things quickly devolved to a social media interaction on our respective birthdays, and not much more than that.. I thought I would feel sad, or maybe angry that she moved on, and I was still single, but I didn’t feel anything at all. 

After some internal debate, I clicked on her profile to unfollow her. I noticed that she already unfollowed me at some point. It didn’t hurt, it just felt like another sign that we were never quite right for each other. As I closed the app, I wondered when she did it. Did she think I was pathetic for still liking her posts? I was only doing it out of politeness.

Kara was in-house legal counsel for an international cosmetic company. We met in law school, but we didn’t start dating until after graduation. We were getting to the point where things should probably 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. To my surprise, I wasn’t sad about it. I felt … relief? I suppose she had 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.

Kara was the only woman I ever really dated long term, and I idly 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 just never felt that thing people describe when they’re talking about being in love.

I scrolled a while longer, until my eyelids started to feel heavy. I put the phone aside and laid in bed for a while. I thought I would fall asleep right away, but it was nearly two before I finally felt myself drifting off to sleep.

The following morning, I was still up early, despite the late hours the night before. I decided that I would go to the gym, something I had not done in several months, before heading to the office.

A few hours later, I was reading through a brief when Roger Santos called me down to his office.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing for me to sit. Sylvia Viner, Jack Robinson’s longtime assistant, took the chair on the other side of me. Something about his somber tone unsettled me. Roger and Sylvia were both usually jovial, boisterous people, but Sylvia looked as if someone struck her across the face. It was a haunted, shellshocked expression that made me feel very anxious.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” Roger said. “Jack’s had some kind of stroke or something, he’s in the hospital having emergency surgery. Maury’s on her way down from New York, and we’ll know more when she gets here, but it sounds quite serious.”

“Oh my god,” I said. “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.” I nodded in agreement. The last thing anyone needed at a time like this was worrying about finances or navigating the maze of insurance bullshit, and fortunately for Maury, Jack put all kinds of things in place to make it easier for her.

Sylvia unlocked Jack’s office for me and I went to work. I organized everything and started putting the files into two large file boxes. As I did, I paused to look at the framed photos on Jack’s desk. Two were of Maury; the first when she was a little girl with a missing front tooth, the second from the last year or two, with her dad on his boat. The third frame wasn’t a picture at all, but a little scrap of fabric with bright red stitching on it. I smiled when I saw it. Jack had told me once, when I first started at the firm, that it was the first thing Maury had ever sewn. She had known since she was a little girl that she wanted to make clothes, and he had always believed in her. He had overheard her talking to her dolls one day, saying they needed to see a good tailor.

“I don’t know where she heard that from, she was only about 7 at the time. Maybe in some book, but I asked her about it later, and she looked at me very seriously and said ‘a good prince has a good tailor’. I always get my suits tailored now.” He chuckled at that, but then went on to lecture me about the importance of good grooming. Despite the lecture, I had always loved that story. Jack was an amazing dad. I don’t have a bad relationship with my father, though admittedly we aren’t as close since my mother had passed on. …But I think just about anyone would have been envious of how much Jack loved and supported Maury.

I grabbed the photos off the desk and tucked them into a third, smaller box. I thought maybe she might like to have them for her dad. Maybe they could help with his recovery. I remembered how my mom would beg to see photos of her children when she was sick.

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 held a deep respect for Jack. He was the one who interviewed me and hired me. He took a chance on Javier Cordero, Venezuelan immigrant and subpar interviewee, when half a dozen other law firms passed on me. He mentored me, and gave me so many career opportunities. I thought of him like a favorite uncle. I felt so useless; with 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. Jack, and by extension Maury, were well liked by the staff, and everyone’s grief for them both was palpable. A few people commented on Jack’s fondness for me, asking how I was holding up. I could only smile weakly and say that he was in my thoughts.

Later in the day, I was in the breakroom when Kyle Gordon came up to me.

“Sucks about Jack, huh?” He asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, he’s still fairly young,” I commented. 

“You two were kind of close, weren’t you? How are you doing?”

“I think a lot of him. I’m hanging on.” I said with a shrug.

“I feel bad for his daughter, she’s his only family I think. This is going to be rough on her. My uncle had a stroke about 15 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.” Kyle shrugged, and dunked a spoonful of sugar into his mug.

I lingered in the breakroom for a few minutes after he left to avoid making small talk with him on the way back to our offices. I didn’t really want any more blunt commentary about the future that might lay ahead for Jack… Assuming he survived his surgery. 

Finally, just before the end of the day, Roger made the announcement that Jack was out of surgery, and that he was stable. 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 liked Richard the least, and the feeling had always seemed to be mutual. He was cold, calculating and when he smiled, it never quite reached his eyes. There was always a tension between Richard and Jack, and while I couldn’t say for certain, I always got the impression that Jack was a roadblock for Richard in some way. 

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 10 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. Jack was a brilliant lawyer who loved to devote his time to charity and pro bono cases. Every year at Christmas, a truckload of cards and gifts came to the office for him. He would be missed.

After work, 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. I dithered for a while, and then decided I would go see him after all. I knew I would regret it if the worst happened and I didn’t.

 I headed down to Baltimore General after leaving the office. A receptionist told me where to find him. I poked my head into the room. Jack was sitting up in bed, but he looked pale and shriveled that 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. Her eyes were glassy, ringed by shadowy dark circles that made it clear she wasn’t getting much sleep. Her hair was greasy, unkempt, falling out of a loose bun, and she looked like she’d been wearing the same clothes for several days. I felt so sorry for her, knowing how difficult these days must have been. 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 was dull, and lifeless. It broke my heart to hear it.

“Your dad is very well loved around the office.”

“Yeah, people have been visiting,” she said.

“Are you hanging in there?” I asked, unsure of what else to say. Mentally, I kicked myself as soon as the words left my mouth. These were probably some of the worst days of her life. Of course she wasn’t hanging in there.

“Not at all.” She laughed humorlessly, echoing my thoughts. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, everybody’s sorry,” she muttered. She shook her head. “I”m sorry. I’m going to… Go away. 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 Jack,” I said softly. He tilted his head slightly and made a gurgling noise. I thought back to what Kyle said about drooling and staring at the wall. I didn’t know what else to say, so I just stood there awkwardly until Maury came back.

“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 sensed that she would feel better if I did.

“Thanks,” She said absently, wiping a bit of drool from her dad’s face with a tissue.

That night, I called my sister Olivia. 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. Liv’s a year younger than I am, and there’s a bit of a gap between us and our other three siblings, so I’ve always been closest to her.

“Hello Javi,” she said when she answered. “To what do I owe the pleasure of the sound of your voice?” 

“Just calling to catch up,” I said. I didn’t mean to sound morose, but Liv picked up on it immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

I blew air out between my lips.

“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. Just… How things were at the end.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said gently.

“Jack, the senior partner I mean, looked awful.” I sighed, trying to push the similar image of Mom wasting away in her hospital bed from my mind. “His daughter was there, and it was like her whole world had ended. I feel so bad for her, like I should do something, but I don’t know what,” I rambled. 

 “I remember you talking about Jack now, you went to his beach house last year, didn’t you?”

“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…” I tried to articulate the sensation. Grief manifested itself in so many odd little ways. “Strange, I guess. I don’t really know her, but Jack talks about her so much I feel like I do. Sometimes I would get the feeling that Jack wanted to set me up with her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, he never said so but I just… It was just a feeling I’d get sometimes.”

“Well if you’re looking to be set up, there’s a girl at Joe’s-”

“I’m not, thank you very much,” I interjected dryly.

“Fine,” she chuckled to herself, then she was quiet for a moment. “Javi, you know you did the best you could, right? With Mom? You took such good care of her. You took on all that stuff when Dad was too grief stricken to handle it. You did everything for her that you could.”

“I know,” I said softly. “It doesn’t change the fact that I feel like I failed, though.” I did everything in my power, and Mom still died.

“I get that, but you have to stop beating yourself up about it. Mom wouldn’t want you to-”

“I know,” I interrupted.

“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.”

We hung up, and I went back to my guitar, strumming random chords, trying to quiet my racing thoughts. I didn’t envy Maury, she was going to have a long lonely road in front of her.

After a while, I gave up trying to find inspiration in the guitar and went to bed. I dreamed of Venezuela, a place I hadn’t thought about in years. I barely remembered it. But I dreamed we were there, and that Mom was with us. It was a good dream, but I woke up feeling sad.