Be safe. I love you.
Love always,
Thea
“Thanks for joining me for lunch.” Uncle Tim and I were eating at a bistro in midtown. I loved that we were still close to him. He had really stepped up after Dad died, made himself more available to Mom, Cam and me, even knowing he had a crazy schedule. He wasn’t just a celebrated defense attorney with an acquittal rating that bordered on magical, he was also a State Assemblyman who had his sights set on the Senate. Due to his hectic schedule, we didn’t have lunch as often as either of us would have liked, but it was great that we were still able to occasionally fit it in.
“How’s work? You’re still working out of your apartment?”
“I am. I’ve quite a few regulars, mostly authors, and I’m nonstop busy.”
“And you are still thriving on the work?”
“It isn’t the direction I thought I would be taking when I started college, but I love it. What about you? That case in the news is pretty intense.” Cathy McKay was a mother of three that was found dead in the alley behind the diner where she worked. The police had an eyewitness, caught the perp and had evidence that put him at the scene. It was believed by all to be a slam dunk case for the prosecution, but Uncle Tim had successfully poked holes in their theories and their evidence. So much so that people were now tossing around the word acquittal.
“I hate cases like this, but I’m sworn to uphold the law and when civil liberties are being trampled all for the collar, that can’t happen. It doesn’t make me popular, but I’m doing right by my client.”
I remembered Dad often saying the same thing of Uncle Tim. I reached for his hand. “Dad, even being a cop, understood the importance of what you do. Your client is very lucky to have you.”
“So let’s talk about Cam. What’s he up to?”
“Good question. Ever since Dad died, he buries himself in work.”
“As a coping mechanism I get it, but it’s been over two years.”
“I know.”
“Do you know what he’s working on?”
“No. He keeps Mom and me in the dark, for our own sake, but I miss him. He doesn’t come around nearly as much as he should.”
“I’ll try to talk to him.”
“I would really appreciate that. I know he loves the job, I just hope he is not hiding behind the job.”
“He’s a smart guy, but I’ll have a word.”
“Thank you.”
We were pulled from our conversation when a man stepped up to our table. It took a minute to place the face, but it wasn’t hard because his daughter’s case was eating up the media. Chris McKay. Uncle Tim stood as soon as he saw him.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“How do you sleep at night?”
“Chris, don’t make me call the cops.”
“She’s dead. Your client did it and yet you spend day after day brainwashing the jury that he is innocent.”
His eyes raked over me, a chill forming because he looked slightly mad. “Your daughter?”
Uncle Tim stepped in front of him to hide me from view.
“What if it had been her? Would you be so eager to get the one off who had killed her? Left her children orphans?”
“Leave now.” I had never heard Uncle Tim sound so furious. He reached for his phone just as the manager of the restaurant walked over.
“Is there a problem, Mr. Gallagher?”
“No. Mr. McKay was just leaving.”
“I hope you never experience the devastation.” Those were his parting words before he was escorted out of the restaurant. Uncle Tim looked around at our fellow diners offering a nonverbal apology before he settled back in his chair.
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Has he done that before?”
“A few times. He’s grieving. I understand. He needs someone to blame and right now that’s me. It happens all the time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“All part of the job.”
The waitress returned; she looked a bit flustered. You could tell the manager had sent her over. “Would you like dessert? It’s on the house.”
And in trying to shake off that ugly scene, Uncle Tim and I said at the same time, “Absolutely.”
I parted with Uncle Tim and walked home. On the way, I spotted a couple ahead of me on the street. They walked hand in hand and when they reached their destination, he held the door for her. She looked up at him and smiled as she preceded him into the store. The sight hit me right in the center of my chest, as a wicked case of déjà vu swept through me. It was the little reminders of Damian, the ones that snuck up on me out of nowhere that were the hardest. I missed him, every damn day.