“Hi, honey,” she greets, and I stand up and she kisses my cheek and hugs me. “Thank God they got us this table. I hate being cramped.” She sits down and hangs her purse on her chair right as the waitress fills our glasses.
“You have no idea how much I need this right now,” she says, thanking the waitress and then me as she lifts the glass and sips. “I’m very stressed,” she says, after a long, unladylike drink that is also so very unlike her.
“Why?”
“Let’s order food. I need to eat something. I feel shaky. And let’s get some of that yummy bread.”
“Okay,” I say. “Yes. I know what you like. I can order.” I wave at the waitress, place our order, and we have bread pronto.
She quickly butters a slice and I do the same. “How are you?” she asks.
“I’m okay. You are not. What is happening?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I do know. I thought your father was cheating on me.”
“Oh. No. Tell me no.”
“I did,” she says. “I’ve spent a few weeks fretting over it. It’s a big part of why I didn’t leave the country. He urged me to go.”
“You said—”
“I know what I said, but what was I going to say, Pri? I think your dad found a younger woman and I’m a washed-up old lady to him? It hurt, you know?”
“Of course it did, but you say it as if it’s past tense?”
“Right well, I don’t think he’s cheating anymore. I’m actually thinking Italy sounds nice. Tuscany, maybe. Somewhere remote that I can just clear my head.”
The food arrives and I draw in a breath. Something is wrong, really wrong. The waitress offers freshly shredded cheese and we both accept, each taking a bite of our food. My mother isn’t looking at me and she picks up her wine and downs the rest of the contents.
“Do you know why Dad called me today?” I ask. “I can’t seem to reach him.”
“He called you?”
“He did.”
“Well, he really wants you to come back to the firm, Pri. He’s prepared to offer you your own division. Frankly, I’d like to beg you to accept. I’m so tired of all the criminals he represents. Maybe you can show him there is money to be made by representing innocent people.”
“Since when do you care about innocent people?”
“That’s horrible, Pri. You make me sound horrible. I stayed out of your father’s business for a reason. I couldn’t stomach it.”
“And you like the money?”
“Of course I do,” she says. “Is that a sin? I don’t think so, but I’m not money hungry to the point of being blind. The truth is, I’ve always felt your father was a good man and I don’t think I wanted to see him any other way.”
I set my fork down. “What is going on?”
She sets her fork down as well. “I’m asking you to drop this case and come back to work for us. Just walk away now and maybe Waters will forget about you.”
“Is Dad involved with Waters, Mom?”
She slides her plate away. “While snooping over the assumed affair, I overhead some things. That’s why I wanted to meet here. I’m afraid our house is bugged.”
“What things?” I ask, trying not to sound as urgent as the thundering of my heart suggests I am.
“Somehow, I suspect through Logan, your father got involved with Waters and is now trapped, held captive by that monster’s demands. He can’t get out and basically, Pri, honey, if you don’t drop the case, they’re going to implicate us all and send us to jail.”
My eyes go wide and the room spins. “What? No. How do you know that?”
“I recorded a meeting your father had with some man I don’t know. Your father never said his name, but he made it clear he didn’t even know Waters was a client. The other man made it clear that the firm had laundered money for Waters for years now. Your father’s implicated.” She slides a tape recorder over to me. “Listen to it and drop the case, Pri.”
Blood rushes in my ears. “I think you need to leave the country.”
“I don’t need to leave the country if you drop the case.”
“And then what? Waters continues to control us if we don’t stop him?”
“Maybe not,” she says. “Maybe he’ll move on.”
“Move on? No, Mother. You’re not being realistic. It’s just a matter of time before he threatens us again.”
“I told you,” she snaps. “The man on the recording told your father that if you drop out of the case, Waters will free your father.”
“Until he’s not free,” I say. “I’m going to get you on a plane out of the country in the morning. Pack a bag. I’ll be by to pick you up.”
“Dad—”
“Do not call him and tell him, Mom. The wrong people will find out. I’ll tell him when he returns and try to get him to come and meet you. Okay?”