Stop feeling sorry for yourself, she ordered. Be grateful for all you have. But all she had did not include the one thing that she wanted most: Cash’s love.
The days went by quickly. Christie’s desk was never empty; she had more cases than she could handle in the confines of an eight-hour workday. She spent many evenings poring over handwriting samples, and she was glad to go to bed exhausted. It pushed out the creeping memories of a happier time. She wasn’t unhappy. It was more like living in a state of limbo—there was no misery, but neither was there joy. She had too much to do to dwell upon her loss; too many people depended upon her skills.
It was on the jet to Arizona that the memories tumbled down upon her. Gone were the desk filled with papers, the briefcase with documents, the laptop with her notes. Nothing stood in the way of her thoughts traveling along the road of sorrow. She did not even have a seatmate to distract her, and the flight was too short to show a movie. She was alone with her thoughts. They spun through her mind like a movie reel. The good, the bad, and the what ifs plagued her all the way to the landing field. When would the pain in her heart ease? Breaking off with Cash was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? she asked herself time after time.
Hefting her carry-on, she left the plane. She walked toward the security barrier and saw Hal waiting on the other side. They waved at each other, and when she reached him he gave her a big hug. He took her bag and they walked out of the terminal and to his car.
Christie was quiet on the drive, but Hal obviously didn’t notice. He commandeered the conversation with glowing descriptions of Emily.
“There go my manners,” he said after a while. “Ever since this baby was born, I can’t stop talking about her.”
“It’s understandable,” Christie said. “I can’t wait to see her.”
“Soon enough,” Hal replied.
It was a pleasant drive to Hal’s home, but a long one. Christie had planned to spend only one night, but Margo had been persuasive. After all, she said, they were friends, and had more to talk about than babies and lost loves. Although, she admitted, talk of one particular baby would undoubtedly highlight the conversation.
As anxieties besieged her, Christie began to regret not sticking to her original decision to be in and out of Arizona as quickly as possible. Not having a rental car made escape impossible, but Margo had insisted on having Hal pick her up at the airport. Was Cash experiencing the same inner turmoil, or had he moved on? Forgotten her?
After a while she sensed a shift in Hal’s manner. He stopped talking about Emily Anne, and an uncomfortable silence prevailed. Christie wanted to break it, but didn’t want to chatter. It wasn’t until they were out of the city traffic that Hal spoke again.
“Margo told me that you and Cash split up. She said you have misgivings about his work. Now, you can tell me to butt out, but there’s something I want you to know.”
Christie was taken aback. What was this all about?
“Being a criminal defense attorney doesn’t mean Cash compromises his principles.”
Hal’s words rankled. “I’m not naive. I understand his role in the justice system,” Christie replied. Did Hal think that she believed defense attorneys only handled innocent clients?
“Let me tell you a story. It may open your mind.”
Christie was ready to retort that she was already open-minded, but Hal continued before she could defend herself.
“Cash got his start in the district attorney’s office. I don’t think you knew that. He doesn’t like to talk about it. He prosecuted some tough cases and won most of them. He was seen as a rising star. He loved the work, seeing justice meted out, being part of a system that worked. He didn’t think anything could be sweeter.”
Christie wondered where the story was going.
“Then he got a high-profile rape case. At first he was eager to prosecute; he believed rape was a vicious crime that needed a tough penalty. But as he went over the evidence, he began to wonder if they had the wrong person. He told me the case didn’t sit right. He raised doubts with his boss, but it was an election year. The case had gotten a lot of publicity. A conviction meant votes.
“Cash was persistent in searching for the truth. He enlisted the detective who’d made the collar, and they reinterviewed a key witness. When the DA got wind of what was going on, he pulled Cash off the case and gave it to another ADA. The case went to trial and the young man was convicted. Cash came over to our place, distraught. He said that when the jury pronounced their verdict, that young man lost his entire future. Cash was devastated by the injustice. He handed in his resignation, and the following week he joined a criminal defense team. He filed an appeal on the young man’s behalf and eventually the verdict was reversed. Three years later, the actual rapist was apprehended.”
Christie looked out the window. The countryside was a blur. It was hard to see through the tears that pooled in her eyes.
“Christie?” Hal prompted.
She was so filled with emotion she was unable to speak. Hal turned toward her questioningly, and she nodded. Too late, she understood. It wasn’t just about the Bobby Morenos of the world, it was about justice. And she knew that sometimes in that quest there were unsavory characters, despicable crimes. Perhaps Cash had to plow through those to make certain that one falsely accused person had his day in court.
They arrived at the house. Before they were halfway up the walk, the front door swung open. Margo, framed in the doorway, called a greeting. Emily Anne was in her arms. Christie hastened to see the baby.
“It’s so good to see you, Christie. Here’s your auntie, Emily dear.”
Christie smiled at the child cradled in Margo’s arms. Elliot was right. Emily Anne was beautiful.
They entered the house and Margo led the way into the kitchen.
“I have a little snack for you. I heard that they don’t even offer peanuts on that flight nowadays.”
A plate of sandwiches cut into quarters and a pitcher of iced tea were on the table. Margo handed the baby to Christie while she set out luncheon plates and napkins. Christie looked at Emily Anne closely and said that she was the cutest baby she had ever seen. Emily Anne was soft and smelled like a spring garden of talcum powder and baby shampoo. Her blue eyes were inquisitive, and her bowed mouth reminded Christie of an old-fashioned Kewpie doll. Her tiny fingers curled around Christie’s thumb and as she gurgled a melody, Christie insisted Emily Anne was trying to talk to her. Cradling the baby against her chest, she kissed her on the forehead.
“Has Cash seen her yet?”
“He was here last night. What a softie. He was cooing and spouting baby talk. His adversaries would have been shocked to see the way he acted. He took pictures of Emily Anne with his iPhone, and you would have thought that he was setting up a modeling portfolio. He shot her from every angle imaginable.”
Margo reached for Emily Anne, and Christie felt a fleeting chill when her arms were empty. Would she ever hold a baby of her own? Experience the bond between mother and child? What is wrong with me? she wondered. She had been content with her life, had friends, was on a strong career path, lived in one of the finest cities in the country. Nothing had been missing. Not until Cash came into her life and added a new dimension to her world. Now he was gone, and there was an empty space in her days and nights. Each went by without significance. She no longer woke with the anticipation of being with Cash, feeling his arms around her. Without him, life was as bland as bread pudding without a dash of whipped cream or a spoonful of berries.