The Sweet By and By (16 page)

“Hate you? What are you talking about? Come here and sit with me, please.”

But Jade remained by the door, peering out the side light. The houses along the lane were starting to dim as the hour grew late. The horde of kids had diminished to a few stragglers, mostly teens who didn't bother with costumes.

“He-he's not dead, Max.” She glanced back at him.

He remained on the bottom step in the glow of the flashlight, with his elbows propped on his thighs. After an intense silence, he said, “Why'd you tell me he was, then?”

“It started in college when a friend asked me about him. It just came out. Seemed so simple and uncomplicated.” She walked to the edge of the foyer, glad to hide her shame in the shadows. “Only Daphne and Margot know the truth.”

“That he's alive.”

“Yes. He lives in Washington, D.C. You've met him, actually.”

“How would I have met—?” Max stood, balancing the flashlight on his shoulder, shining the light on Jade's face. Squinting, she shielded her eyes with her hand. “Fitzgerald. Judge Harlan Fitzgerald is your dad?”

“One and the same.”

Max lowered the light so the white circle haloed their feet. “Oh, man. Jade, you've heard me go on and on about him. Why didn't you tell me?”

Jade tried to think of a good reason why she'd let the lie continue, but nothing came to mind. Tension gripped her neck and shoulders. “I've never talked about him with anyone. I barely know him. He left when I was eight, Max. Aiden and I visited him, like, three times, then we never saw him again.”

“Well, when did you see him last?”

Details. She hated digging up the details. “I was ten, I guess.”

“Phone calls? E-mails?”

“Not after I turned twelve. I think Aiden called him one Christmas.”

“Unbelievable.” Max's familiar steps skipped over the foyer floor. The flashlight's beam swished back and forth, sending the light to and fro. “He's a conservative judge, noted for his stance on family values.”

An ember of ire flared in Jade's chest. “Are you saying you don't believe me?”

“His papers and decisions on family law, children, divorce, and marriage are becoming a part of the American legal system. But you're telling me he abandoned his family and never looked back?”

Jade stiffened. “You're surprised a man's professional life doesn't match his personal life?”

“He's a fraud then.”

“Maybe he really believes all he's said and done in the legal world, Max.” Jade came up beside him and pressed her cheek to his back, circling her arms about his waist. “But he just couldn't live it.”

“I've argued cases based on his writings and decisions.”

She tugged on his arm gently, turning him to face her. “Because you believed in what you were doing, Max. Not because some other man said it.”

“How? I mean, what happened?”

“With Dad leaving? You'll have to ask Mama if you want the partial truth.”

“No, you tell me. What do you remember?”

“I was eight, but in my mind, it all started with Mr. Barlow losing his farm.”

“I know the case.
Barlow vs. Land & Farm
. That case set precedent and launched your dad's career.”

Jade sank back down to the broad, smooth, hardwood steps. “The night the case was decided, Todd Barlow showed up at the house with a shotgun.”

Fourteen

July 1988

“Harlan Fitzgerald, get yourself down here. Now!”

Jade's eyes popped open. Darkness cloaked the walls of her room.

“Did you hear me, you lying coward?”

Jade rolled onto her belly and peered over the windowsill. The glow from the utility lamp by the edge of the driveway haloed the ground with a triangle of light. Who was out there?

Angling sideways, Jade tried to see around the side of the house, but her bedroom was in the back, and—

“Fitzgerald!” The cock of a shotgun cracked against the air. Jade's pulse surged as she ducked beneath the window, burying her face in her pillow. “I'm calling you out.”

Sliding out of bed like a snake, Jade crawled across the floor, careful of splinters, and eased open her door. The hall was black, but she could see enough to crawl toward Aiden's room.

“Shh,” he said as she eased onto his bed. His room was hot, the hum of the floor fan barely stirring the summer's moist night air. The fragrance of corn and barley drifted through the skinny screen.

“Who is it?” Jade asked, stretching out next to her brother and peeking out the window with her eyes barely above the sill.

“Sounds like Mr. Barlow.”

“Is he loaded?”

“Don't know about him, but his gun is sure cocked and ready to fire.”

A man in coveralls stood just beyond the porch steps, silhouetted by his truck headlights, a shotgun hooked over his arm. Jade had seen Paps holding his gun the same way when he went hunting.

“I got all night, lawyer. Thieving, robbing lawyer.” The man's words swam together. He wiped his face with his sleeve.

“Yep, he's loaded.” Aiden pushed himself deeper into the mattress.

“Think he can see us?”

“Naw. Don't mean he won't aim for the house, though. Get away from the window.”

“He's mad, ain't he?”

“Like a stirred-up hornet's nest.”

“But he owed money. Lots of money.”

“How can he pay his bills if he can't farm, Jade-o?”

Jade set her chin on her fist. Aiden argued like Mama. She was fit to be tied when she found out Daddy's client was the bank.

“You're helping the bank take away a man's livelihood?”

“Beryl, he sold off his collateral, took the money, and never paid one dime against his loan. The bank is out three hundred thousand dollars with no recourse.”

The shotgun blasted, rattling the windows. The inside of the house came alive. Doors opened and closed, light eased through the crack of Aiden's closed door, footsteps powered down the hall.

“Beryl, call 9-1-1.”

“Wait, Harlan . . .”

The gun cocked and exploded. Jade screamed and buried her face into Aiden's arm. Her legs shivered so hard she couldn't control them.

Be a bad dream, please. This is just a bad dream.

The bedroom door flew open. “Both of you, get on the floor now,” Mama commanded. “Jade, stop screaming.”

“Harlan!” Another shot exploded, reverberating in the house, echoing across the fields.

Covering her head with her hands, Jade's silent screams billowed in her lungs.
Don't hurt Daddy. Please, don't hurt Daddy.

“Todd, get off my property right now and we'll forget all about this,” Daddy called from the porch under Aiden's room. “You're drunk.”

“He's plastered,” Aiden whispered to Jade, lying beside her on the floor by the bed.

“We've called the sheriff,” Daddy said.

“Does Daddy have a gun, Aiden?”

“Mama said guns kill people, but Dad laughed and said something like, ‘Not law-abiding guns,' and she had a hissy fit.”

Jade moved so close to Aiden she could hear his heartbeat. Mr. Barlow had a gun. Drunk Mr. Barlow. But not her kind, sober Daddy? Tears slipped down her cheeks.

Talk to Jesus when you feel scared, Paps always said.
Jade rolled over and started crawling toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To get my medallion from Paps. The one he wore in the big war. Said it kept him alive.”

“Jade, no, wait. Come back.”

By the time she snuck back into Aiden's room with the medallion around her neck, she'd begged Jesus to help her Daddy, uttering the prayers Paps taught her. But nothing had progressed between Daddy and Mr. Barlow.

“We can do this nice, Todd. It's your choice. Put the gun down.”

Mr. Barlow rattled off some words Jade had never heard before. Aiden whistled. “He's ticked.”

Jade looped her finger over the leather cord holding the medallion.
Can't you hear me, Jesus? Please help Daddy.

“They took my farm, Harlan. And I have
you
to blame for it.”

“Blame yourself, Todd. You put up your stock and equipment as collateral, and the bank loaned you money based on the value of those things. Then you sold them. Refused to pay your note.”

“I have to live, don't I? Feed my family, buy more seed?”

The sirens wailed long before blue flashing lights colored Aiden's dark wall.

“You also have to pay your bills, Todd, meet your obligations.”

In the next minute, police cars surrounded Mr. Barlow.

“Listen,” Aiden whispered.

Jade breathed long and slow, rising up toward the window. But all she heard was the
thump-bump
of her own blood in her ears. “What is it?”

“Crying.”

Jade stretched her ear closer to the screen. Watery, muffled cries blended with the cadence of the flashing lights. “Poor Mr. Barlow.” Her heart twisted, watching the deputy cover his head and fold him into the sheriff 's car. “What do you think they'll do to him?”

“Put him in jail, probably.” Aiden balanced his chin on top of his fist.

“First his farm, now jail. Not a good day for Mr. Barlow.” Jade squeezed the water from her eyes.
He tried to kill Daddy.

In the next few minutes, the blue lights stopped bouncing and the squad cars cleared out of the yard. The air around the house hovered, empty and eerie. Not even the locusts were singing.

Jade's stomach contracted as her emotions deflated, like the night Paps was lowered into the ground. Batting away the sting of tears, she jumped off the bed. “I want Daddy.”

Just as she reached the door, Mama stepped in, clicking on the dresser lamp. “Are you two all right?”

“Is he going to jail, Mama?” Aiden asked, scooting to the edge of his bed.

“For now.”

Daddy stood in the door. “How's everything in here?”

“Daddy.” Jade jumped into his arms, clinging to his neck, inhaling the starched fragrance of his shirt. “I prayed for you, like Paps taught me.”

“Did you now?” Daddy wrapped her tight. “You know I can take care of myself, Jade-o. Especially when I buy a gun—”

“Harlan.” Mama sighed. “You're not getting a gun.”

“It's not 1967 anymore, Beryl.”

“No, it's 1988, and the world is even more dangerous. But I'm still a pacifist.” Mama helped Aiden under his sheet. “Go to sleep now, if you can.”

“Then you face Todd Barlow's shotgun next time.” Daddy carried Jade to her room. “Don't be afraid,” he said, settling her on her pillows. “I'm here.”

“I heard him crying.”

“Forget about him, baby.” Daddy straightened her nightgown, then kissed her cheek. “He should've thought about his actions before he got liquored up and drove over here with a loaded gun.”

“Are you going to get one? Really?”

“Is this fun bedtime talk?” Daddy tickled her ribs. Jade giggled and squirmed, kicking away her sheet. “Now, you go to sleep. In the morning, I'll get up and make my famous waffles.”

Jade tightened her expression. “Daddy, you never make waffles.”

“There's always a first time.”

She rolled over on her side, curling her legs. “Night, Daddy.”

“Night, Jade-o.” He powered her fan up a notch on his way out, clicking her door shut behind him.

Even with her door closed and the fan humming, she could hear the roar of Mama and Daddy fighting.

“He could've killed your daughter and son.
Killed
, Harlan.”

“You think this is my fault? Beryl, the man is in charge of his own actions. Tough times don't change men's hearts; they only reveal them.”

“Do you see what you're doing? You're becoming one of them.”

“Them who? People who want to build a future? Earn a good living for their families? Send their kids to college? Live by the integrity of their word? Beryl, he put up his stock and inventory, then sold it out from under the bank.”

“I know what he did, Harlan. I'm not stupid. You could've found a better way.”

“Like what? Payments? Todd blew that option.”

“It's the money, isn't it? The bank has deeper pockets so you sided with them.”

“The bank was my client. And I would've sided with Todd if he'd had a case, if he were right.”

“How much, Harlan?” Mama's tone was the one Jade hated. It meant trouble.

“How much
what
?”

“How much is the bonus for winning this one? The money you're starting to make is near obscene.”

“Me? What happened to ‘we,' Beryl? And this wasn't about the money, but about my client's rights.”

“A bank? Rights? I never thought I'd hear you side against the working man. Makes me sad. You've lost yourself, Harlan. It's evil what you're doing. Money has made you blind and stupid.”

Jade's door creaked open, and Aiden crawled into bed next to her. “They're fighting like two toms.”

“Do you think Daddy's evil?”
Evil
was one word Mama used that Jade understood. “Mama called him Hitler the other day.”

“He's not a Hitler. Paps said that Hitler was the devil himself in the flesh.”

There was a crash and Jade ducked under the sheet, gripping her medallion and whispering to Jesus, the God and friend of Paps.

Max's cell rang, interrupting Jade's story. She collapsed against the banister spindles.

“Jade, sorry, I need to answer this.” Max held up his iPhone, brushing his hand down her arm. “It's the third time he's called.”

“Take it, please.” She needed a minute to reset her boundaries, to get away from the story, away from the aching tenor of Barlow's sob and the slice of Mama's anger tearing down Daddy's argument.