Piano in the Dark (15 page)

The next week, I sailed down Highway 59, heading to my office downtown, aloft from winds of good fortune for a change. I was subjecting myself to more traffic by taking the freeway from Jacobi’s place, but wanted to avoid any trip through Midtown where complications in the form of a beautiful, perplexing woman dwelled.

“
What do you mean you invited him over for dinner
?” I asked my mother, who’d just hit me with a startling tidbit she chose to share.

“Boy, don’t raise your voice with me.”

“Sorry, Mom, but you know Joell can be dangerous,” I offered, referring to his irrational outbursts in recent years. I was usually the one who had to squelch things with the police.

“Not with me.”

“Not physically at least,” I responded defiantly as the downtown Houston cityscape came closer into view.

“Chase, you saw how he was nothing but skin and bones when you brought him over that night. And with them boys stealing his tip money too? A damn shame. I wanted to cry.”

“That’s why I gave him what cash I had when I brought him back, Mom. Wasn’t going to tell you, but I put him up for a night at the In Town Suites on 1960 too. He was too tired to refuse this once.”

“And you shouldn’t be spending your money, boy. Especially with that new car and your not working.”

“That might not matter soon. My job called me in this morning. Matter of fact, I’m on my way there now.”

“Praise, Jesus!” Earnestine exclaimed. “Did you tell Dawn?”

“Not yet. Things still rough between us. You talk to her?”

“Yeah. She strong. Copin’. Ain’t saying much about you still.”

“Hey, Mom.”

“Yeah?”

“How could you ask Dad over?” I asked, still unnerved by it. “He doesn’t own a phone.”

“I asked him yesterday. You told me where he plays that damn horn. I caught him over by the Smoothie King sitting on a shopping cart. Just like you said. Lookin’ like a fool trying to blow with that split lip. He sure ain’t gettin’ any tips that way. I don’t know what made me go over there, boy,” she replied in a whimsical tone. Sounded like a guilty schoolgirl. “Anyway, I felt sorry for him, Chase. He needs more than just money or shelter.”

“He needs someone that cares for him,” I said, completing the thought she wouldn’t dare speak aloud.

“Now there you go startin’ mess. I didn’t say all that, boy.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Hush your mouth.”

“Look. I can’t tell you what to do—”

“Damn straight.”

“But—”

“I know,” she responded, ending our nonverbal conversation. “I love you too, my son. Now go focus on that job and make me proud.”

Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up
, I thought, taking several deep, cleansing breaths. I even splurged on a new suit for this meeting, my welcome back to Casey, Warner & Associates. In spite of my going through the motions for so long, I would rededicate myself to this job. Fuck Ava’s ideas about what I should be doing. This was for me. I was going to claim it.

I was back in the conference room for another facedown, except the group of partners was missing some members for this go-round. Okay. Almost none of them—Jim Warner, Abner Casey, Maryann Milner—were present. That left a lone Rick Stein sitting across from me to discuss my future. The jacket to his pinstripe suit rested on the seatback. The sleeves on his crisp white shirt were rolled up, like he’d been toiling over this all morning.

Only one person needed for a firing. And best to let the most likable do it.

Fuck.

“Are you letting me go?” I asked bluntly. I think I wanted to faint.

“Relax, Chase,” Rick said with a brief smile forming on his chubby face. “Jacobi went to bat for you and explained everything to us. While not happy with this at all, we’re accepting you back. But on a probationary basis. As a favor to Jacobi and for recognition of the excellent work you’ve done over the years.”

“Whew. Glad Jacobi explained my thought process during that incident. It’s still no excuse.”

“So you admit everything?”

“Yes. Sure…I guess. I lost my cool and overreacted. Just like I told you last time,” I replied, referring to the beatdown of Iris’s husband once again. Hopefully, this would be my final time revisiting it. “But perhaps I could’ve been more tactful and contrite before you guys. It reflected poorly on this firm. And I’ll bust my ass to regain the firm’s trust.”

“We are all so glad to hear that, Chase. You can start by signing here,” Rick said, sliding the drafted agreement forward along with a pen. “And although we understand your need to be contrite, your sleeping with that woman was—”

“Huh?” I said, holding the pen suspended above the agreement.

“Your extramarital affair, Chase. I was referring to that part in all this.”

“
In all this?
Wait. How much did Jacobi tell you?” I asked, irate that my friend had shared so much of my private affairs with these people. Or maybe it was Maryann who saw more of me and Ava at the gallery than I suspected. Would explain why she wouldn’t want to attend this meeting. I was sloppy and careless that night.

“Everything. He told us everything, Chase.”

“Wow,” I said with a low gasp. “But I’m not quite sure how any of that has to do with my job.”

“Barring your other dalliances, it does when one involves this firm’s client and one of our lawyers is assaulted while trying to end things discretely on your behalf.”

“Client? Who was assaulted? I’m totally confused now.”

“Iris Garcia-Wilson. The woman whose husband you beat up. The woman whose relationship with you Jacobi attempted to cover up. He was reluctant to reveal the details, but finally enlightened us upon his return. Until that moment, we thought he was the guilty party and, as one of our lawyers, were prepared to deal with him accordingly. You have a true friend to take a black eye for you and keep their mouth shut about it for so long.”

“My relationship with Iris…” I repeated in a daze as I saw my friend’s smile and his telling me to trust him. I stabbed the pen into the paper, refusing to move it.

“Is something wrong, Chase? Is something incorrect in the agreement we drafted?”

“No…no. I just—I need to speak with Jacobi for a minute before I sign this.”

“This is highly unusual, but you know where his office is.”

“I most certainly do,” I responded, standing up and removing myself from the conference room.

A room to which I knew I wouldn’t return.

Our receptionist Kelli Jo was waiting for me in the hallway when I emerged from the conference room with the unsigned agreement in hand. I quickly sidestepped to keep from bowling her over.

“Welcome back,” she said, assuming all was well. She sped up to walk alongside me.

“Thanks,” I glibly replied, beginning to reflect on my memories of this place. People like her were a joy to work beside.

“Some woman has been calling repeatedly. Left messages for you, but I’ve been holding on to them. I think it’s personal,” she whispered.

I took the messages from her, already knowing who it was, but continued my pace toward Jacobi’s office door without saying anything.

“Did I do okay? Jacobi said not to bother you with them.”

When I reached the door to Jacobi’s office, I glanced back. “Jacobi’s not always someone to rely on. Remember that,” I coldly offered. “It’s been nice working with you.”

“Um…and you too,” she replied, stumbling for words before realizing it best to head back to her desk.

I grasped the door handle and barged in. Jacobi was on his phone, but the paralegal Sally—whom he referred to as incompetent—was beside him.

Behind his desk.

Unique way of training my permanent replacement.

Good ole Jacobi. Always good for the hands-on approach.

“Bro! I am so happy to see you,” Jacobi said with a polished smile of his, pretending I hadn’t startled him. Without saying good-bye, he ended his call and stood up. When he did that, he noticed the unsigned agreement in my hand. He nervously tried to smooth the wrinkles out on his shirt. Sally saw the look in my eyes, probably sensing this wasn’t going to be professional, and quickly removed herself from his proximity.

“Sally, can you leave us—”

“I think she already got that message, man,” I said, cutting him off.

“I—I’ll talk to you later, Jacobi. It’s good seeing you again, Chase.”

She wasn’t worth an answer at the moment. I was too focused on the snake in front of me lest I get bit. As Jacobi’s door closed shut, I couldn’t hold back any longer.

“I fuckin’ trusted you, man!” I screamed. “And they’ve got me in there to sign papers based off your lies!”

“Wha—hold up, dude,” he said, waving his hands as if directing traffic.

I leapt over the desk, tackling Jacobi full force. My first punch met my former friend’s face square in the nose, blood erupting on call. The second and the third weren’t far off. By that time I think he’d caught on. He rolled away from me, shielding his face as he tried to kick me off. I clubbed him across his back several times before he shoved his chair between us to allow him a brief respite. As he clambered to his feet, I yanked his phone off his desk and hurled it at his head. The edge struck him in the eye, sending him yelping in pain like a dog.

“What the fuck!” he said, wiping the blood from multiple sources on his face and looking at the crimson streak on his hand through a squinted eye. In that moment, he snapped as well. He shot at me with a looping overhand right, which I ducked under. As he tried to correct himself, I let it rip with a solid counterpunch to the jaw.

Jacobi succumbed to the blow, falling backward, where he landed with a flop on his butt. The office wall, with his framed diplomas, kept him from sprawling onto his back. Several frames fell off the wall from the thud, crashing on or around him with a cascade of glass.

He was ripe to be stomped down right about now, but I refrained. Only then did I notice the stinging scrape on my chin from one of his wild kicks.

“You lied about me to the partners? To save your neck?” I exclaimed while trying to catch my breath. “
And you said to trust you
? Like you were my friend? You’re the one who can’t keep his dick in his pants around here, man.”

Jacobi chuckled through his swollen face, not bothering with defending himself any longer. “At least I don’t come up with elaborate fantasies to justify fucking a beautiful woman. Be a fucking man for once,” he gasped, trying to muster some smugness. I reconsidered stomping him.

“Why? Why, man? As much as I’ve done for you? Hell, even back in law school. You’re supposed to be my boy. Why?”

“Because I need this job. I need it more than you, Chase. You’re just here because Dawn approves, hoping you’ll rethink taking the bar. And you can’t even get that right.”

“Don’t you dare talk about me and my wife. That business is certainly none of yours.”

“Why not? You’re in my guest bedroom, ain’tcha? She kicked your ass out because you couldn’t handle your business. If that was mine, I’d have that pussy under control, not having some imaginary crisis over some side chick. Besides, what makes you think Dawn’s not getting it somewhere else while you play with this
soul mate
bullshit? You’re a weak, directionless motherfucker.”

A knock came at Jacobi’s office door just as I was about to respond violently.

“Is everything okay in there?” a muffled voice asked from the hallway.

“Yeah. We’re fine,” Jacobi called out, summoning the energy to sound off. “Give us a minute.”

“Damn. Dawn was right about you.”

Jacobi laughed. “She was right about both of us.”

I turned to leave, gifting the man who’d been my friend with a parting shot. “If Iris’s husband files for divorce, the truth’s going to come out about you and her around here anyway.”

“No it won’t,” he responded as he tried to right himself from his predicament on the floor. “You’re the one who slept with her. Just like I said. Her husband never caught us in the act. Only caught us hanging out at Hotel Zaza. If Iris divorces, at least she’ll have me with a job as a lawyer…or maybe even partner. If she’s claims I slept with her, I lose my job and we both have nothing. Like I said, I need this job. And all you had to do was sign the paper. We’d both have our jobs and it would be business as usual. A win-win. Now you’re just S.O.L., shit out of luck.”

“You devious, scheming bastard,” I muttered, hand on the door and preparing to leave his office and this place once and for all.

“Yep,” he agreed with a big grin.

And on that note, I decided to stomp him after all.

“Get your hands off me!” I said, knowing they were about to release their grasp on my suit anyway. When the elevator opened, the two sport-coated men hastily pushed me across the lobby toward the revolving doors. Although my car was in the parking garage, building security threw me out onto Louisiana Street.

“Sir, don’t think about returning,” the one with a brown bushy moustache that concealed his entire top lip offered before leaving me outside with the rest of downtown Houston’s foot traffic. As he walked away, he spoke into his radio to report on my situation.

Problem solved. The crazy, violent coworker who slept with the firm’s client and beat down her husband as well as one of their attorneys would no longer bother them.

Thanks, Jacobi.

My suit jacket hung partially off a shoulder. Dried blood marred my shirt that now hung out of my pants like some sloppy kid. As I attempted to restore myself back to a presentable state, I heard ambulance sirens in the distance as they approached my former office building. Yeah, I’d lost my cool.

But it was worth it for that brief moment.

At least the firm hadn’t called the police on me yet.

Walking to the garage to get my car, I called my mom on her cell.

“Well, my meeting is over,” I exhaled.

“And? How did it go?” Earnestine asked.

“Enlightening,” I replied.

“Is your leave over?”

“Oh, yeah. You might say that,” I answered.

I was lost. No job and no home. So adrift aimlessly, I went in search of something that—as long as there was the slimmest of chances—I hadn’t lost yet.

My mom begged for me to pass by her job so she could talk to me in person. Claimed she was worried about the stress I’d been under…and that it was too much. I would have to take the time to see her, though, and assure her I was okay.

I drove north up I-45 to the Woodlands, specifically the Woodlands Mall. More specifically, Macy’s, where I drove around on the parking lot in search of Dawn’s MINI Cooper. As a result of our blowup, she was working more hours.

I hadn’t sent a batch of flowers to Dawn today. My plan was to deliver them myself with an invitation to dinner—a starting-over of sorts—after my first day back on the job. I told myself that the only difference was that I was going to arrive a bit earlier than originally planned.

Nothing like improvisation.

I also knew Dawn must be at work because she wasn’t home. Against her wishes, I’d gone by there. Needed a change of clothes and a cleanup after what had occurred with Jacobi. Maybe more than that, I just wanted to be in my home. True to her word, she’d changed the front and rear door locks, but the alarm code was the same. Same for the garage door, which I used my car remote to open. After parking inside the garage, I kicked open the door to my house and quickly disarmed the alarm. Dawn would hate what I did, but I would fix it.

I would fix everything.

I just wanted to be home.

Clean, crisp, and composed, I left my car and entered Macy’s with a dozen roses in hand. Going in the doors at the south entrance, an elderly woman in a tennis outfit complimented me on how nice the roses looked.

“Must be for a special someone,” she said, a big smile forming behind her thick red lipstick.

“Yes, ma’am. They’re for my wife. She works here.”

“A surprise! Oh, how I love those,” she gushed.

“I hope she does too,” I replied with a nod as I entered the houseware and kitchen department.

I bypassed the escalators in the center of the store and made my way to the men’s department, proudly holding the symbols of my love, devotion, and hopefully reconciliation. I found my wife by the cash register for urban apparel, where she was gathering clothes to be put back on the racks. She hadn’t noticed me yet, deep in her work. I smiled to myself, having pictured this moment on my way here. Everything would be perfect with us back together.

I was ten feet away when that changed.

A young brother around six feet two swooped between us. All I could see of him was his ears and ill-fitting suit as his back obscured Dawn from my view. He was closer than I’d like. Close enough to brush up against Dawn’s ass if he weren’t careful.

If he wanted to be careful.

I slowed down, getting a better view of both them from the store walkway. He said something in Dawn’s ear, to which she mumbled something in response. There was a light giggle and more relaxed body language between them. Dawn looked into his eyes for a moment, almost teasingly, before mumbling something else that I couldn’t hear. When she resumed gathering clothes, my man put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a brief massage.

I was even with them now, wanting Dawn to shrug off the kid’s hands or at least put some platonic distance between them. But she stayed put, even letting out a deep thankful sigh as his fingers worked her muscles.

“Dawn,” I called out sternly.

Junior reacted first to seeing me glaring at him. He withdrew his hands almost faster than the eye could see, creating a faint breeze that I felt. By that time, Dawn had turned around toward the sound of my voice.

“Chase,” she gasped. Much different sound than the one of joy she’d let out seconds ago. Hadn’t realized that I’d lowered her flowers to my side by then, forming a death grip around them. Could just as easily be Junior’s neck.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Junior offered as he backed up three full steps. Saw his name tag then. Said
Ronald
on it.

“Ronnie, this is my husband, Chase. Chase, this is my coworker Ronnie,” she quickly rattled off, making sure titles, connections, and boundaries were established. I knew when she was blushing and Dawn was blushing now.

“Sup, bruh,” I said, declining to relinquish my grip on her roses and shake his hand.

“Pleased to meet you, man,” Ronnie of college age offered with a bit of restrained swagger. His false smile was full of teeth. Reminded me of Jacobi. Made me wonder if he looked at my wife with eyes like Jacobi while they worked together. Wondered if maybe he needed to be stomped too.

“Ronnie is one of our trainees,” Dawn volunteered.

“Oh,” was all I said as I dissected her with legal eyes, assessing her credibility and believability as if she were on the stand…or on an episode of
Maury
. Had got way too caught up on that shit while off work with nothing to do.
Dawn. When you said you didn’t sleep with Ronnie the motherfuckin’ trainee, the lie detector determined that was…

“More flowers, Chase?” Dawn asked, breaking me from my afternoon TV episode just before Maury could read me the results. Didn’t know if I’d be doing a happy dance, calling her a liar and a bleeped-out bitch while the audience booed her or if we’d make up and hug it out to a series of audience
aaawwwws
.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Figured I’d bring them in person this time. Surprise you.
Surprise
!”

“Damn, you must’ve spent a whole paycheck on all these roses she’s been getting,” Ronnie spit out. She’d discussed my flowers with him? What else had she discussed? Was he a shoulder to cry on? Okay. I was tripping.

“Not even close,” I replied. None of his business that I no longer had a job, but maybe a new set of charges on my credit card. “But my wife’s worth it. Anything for Dawn.”

Ronnie cut his eyes toward her, motioning that he was going find something to keep him busy in another part of the store. Good boy. “Nice meeting you,” he offered as he departed from my space.

I nodded at him, waiting for several seconds before handing my wife her latest batch.

“What was that all about?” Dawn asked.

“You tell me,” I shot back, regretting it as soon as it escaped my mouth.

“I’m training him. Put away your boxing gloves.”

“If you say so.”

“Look,” she said. “Don’t do this. Not at my job. I have nothing to be guilty about.”

“I don’t like him all up on you. And touching you.”

“Relax. His dick ain’t been in me. Can you say the same about yours, the rover?”

“I’m sorry. I deserve that. Just wanted to see you and ask you out to dinner. I miss you.”

She smelled the roses, sighing to herself as she looked for somewhere to set them. “You didn’t have to spend all this money. Especially with your job situation and the mortgage almost due.”

“You know about work?”

“Yes. Your mother told me a little something. Said me you were under a lot of stress. Something to do with Jacobi?”

“Yes.”

“Told you about him,” she said, arms folding in an I-told-you-so stance.

“And you were right,” I stated, deep down hoping this admission might open a door.

Speaking of doors.

“Hey. That shirt’s from the house,” she said, pointing at it as her eyes flared with fire. “How’d you get ahold of it?”

I exhaled, looking into her eyes. “I went home. Just for a moment. Only to change, that’s all.”

“But how did you get in? I changed the locks.”

“Can we talk about that later?”

“
Did you break in
?”

“No. No. I came in through the garage. Don’t worry. I disabled the alarm and I’m going to fix the door.”

“Fix? So you did break in.”

“How am I going to break into my own house, Dawn?” I offered, my voice raising in irritation before I caught myself. “Look…I didn’t come here to argue. I just needed to change clothes before I came here. I wanted to make a good impression. I promise I’ll fix the door. I came here to apologize again and ask you out to dinner. Baby, I know I need to do more than this, but I want to make a fresh start. Let’s go to Perry’s Steakhouse tonight.”

“Remember when we were supposed to go to Perry’s last time? When you got in your car wreck?”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Were you with her that day?”

I said nothing, remembering coming to in the hospital with Ava at my side.

Dawn hesitated, shook her head, closed her eyes, then went back to work. “Just go. It’s too much. Too soon, Chase.”

I walked up to the old man sitting on a shopping cart. Dropped a five in his tip cup and sat down next to him. He eyed me strangely before trying to blast a note with that semi-healed lip of his. Several bucks and some change were already in his tip cup. Must’ve been making do.

“You not leavin’?” Joell asked, lowering the trumpet from his mouth.

“No. Got nowhere to be,” I replied simply with a defeated shoulder shrug.