Gray Mountain: A Novel(10)

“Yes. I stopped by his office. He seems to be doing well, looking good, expanding his business, he says.”

“Did he offer you a job?”

“He did. Starting right away, forty hours a week in an office filled with wonderful people.”

“They’ve all been disbarred, you know?”

“Yes, you told me that.”

“It seems to be legitimate, for now anyway. Surely you’re not thinking about working for Marshall. It’s a gang of thieves and they’ll probably be in trouble before long.”

“So you’re watching them?”

“Let’s say I have friends, Samantha. Lots of friends in the right places.”

“And you’d like to see him busted again?”

“No, dear, I’m over your father. We split years ago and it took a long time to recover. He hid assets and screwed me in the divorce, but I finally let it go. I have a good life and I’ll not waste negative energy on Marshall Kofer.”

In tandem, they sipped their wine and watched the bartender, a hunky boy in his mid-twenties in a tight black T-shirt.

“No, Mom, I’m not going to work for Dad. It would be a disaster.”

The hostess led them to their table and a waiter poured ice water. When they were alone, Karen said, “I’m so sorry, Samantha. I can’t believe this.”

“Please, Mom, that’s enough.”

“I know, but I’m your mother and I can’t help myself.”

“Can I borrow your car for the next couple of days?”

“Well, sure. Why do you need my car?”

“There’s a legal aid clinic in Brady, Virginia, one of the nonprofits on my list, and I’m thinking of driving down for a look around. It’s probably a waste of time, but I’m really not that busy these days. In fact, I have nothing to do tomorrow and a long drive might help to clear my head.”

“But legal aid?”

“Why not? It’s just an interview for an internship. If I don’t get the job, then I’ll remain unemployed. If I do get the job, I can always quit if I don’t like it.”

“And it pays nothing?”

“Nothing. That’s part of the deal. I do the internship for twelve months and the firm keeps me in the system.”

“But surely you can find a nice little firm in New York.”

“We’ve already discussed this, Mom. Big law firms are laying off and small firms are folding. You don’t understand the hysteria on the streets of New York these days. You’re safe and secure and none of your friends will lose their jobs. Out in the real world it’s nothing but fear and chaos.”

“I’m not in the real world?”

Fortunately the waiter was back, and with a long narrative about the specials. When he left, they finished their wine and gazed at the tables around them. Finally, Karen said, “Samantha, I think you’re making a mistake. You can’t just go off and disappear for a year. What about your apartment? And your friends?”

“My friends are just as furloughed as I am, most of them anyway. And I don’t have a lot of friends.”

“I just don’t like the sound of it.”

“Great, Mom, and what are my options? Taking a job with the Kofer Group.”

“Heaven forbid. You’d probably end up in jail.”

“Would you visit me? You never visited him.”

“Never thought about visiting him. I was delighted when they put him away. You’ll understand one day, dear, but only if the man you love dumps you for someone else, and I pray that never happens.”

“Okay, I think I understand that. But it was a long time ago.”

“Some things you never forget.”

“Are you trying to forget?”

“Look, Samantha, every child wants their parents to stay together. It’s a basic survival instinct. And when they split, the child wants them to at least be friends. Some are able to do this, some are not. I do not want to be in the same room with Marshall Kofer, and I prefer not to talk about him. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Fair enough.” It was as close to a mediation as Samantha had ever been, and she quickly backed away. The waiter brought salads and they ordered a bottle of wine. “How is Blythe?” Karen asked, heading toward easier topics.

“Worried, but still employed.” They talked about Blythe for a few minutes, then on to a man named Forest who’d been hanging around Karen’s apartment for a month or so. He was a few years younger, her preference, but there was no romance. Forest was a lawyer advising the Obama campaign, and the conversation drifted in that direction. With fresh wine, they analyzed the first presidential debate. Samantha, though, was tired of the election, and Karen, because of her job, shied away from the politics. She said, “I forgot you don’t own a car.”

“I haven’t needed one in years. I guess I could lease one for a few months if I need to.”

“Come to think of it, I’ll need mine tomorrow night. I’m playing bridge at a friend’s house in McLean.”

“No problem. I’ll rent one for a couple of days. The more I think about it, the more I’m looking forward to a long drive, alone.”

“How long?”

“Six hours.”