She is rereading the nearly completed adoption paperwork when Ben gets home. Back from another visit with Cecil. He has been spending quite a bit of time in Perkins. And why not? There has always been some scabbed-over tension between the Porter brothers. These visits can only do them good.
Before she can deliver this packet to Gomez, though, Becca needs Ben’s signature on one final document—Willa has finally agreed to relinquish her parental rights to Caleb—so when he walks into the kitchen Becca waylays her husband, pen in hand.
“I need your autograph.”
Ben signs the paper without looking at it.
“There’s something I should say,” he starts.
“Say it.”
“First off, I love you.”
“You should say that more often.”
“There’s a background check in there.”
“Spotless,” she smiles. “Just like you promised.”
“Character witnesses. Driving records. Affidavits and whatnot. Oaths we’ve made about being law-abiding citizens who can, who will, set a good example for this boy.”
“Caleb.”
“I was about to say his name.”
“You were.”
Ben is looking at his shoes.
“Why am I not liking the sound of this, Ben?”
“There’s a not insignificant chance I could get indicted someday.”
Becca actually backs two steps away from her husband.
“For bribery. I did it so we’d get ahead. And I did it more than once. Kickbacks, little things at first, to win a big contract or a city council vote or a zoning resolution.”
She’s having trouble staying on her feet.
“Why would you tell me this now?”
Ben finally looks her in the eye.
“Because I love you and I want you to be happy. And let’s adopt Caleb, if it’s what you want. But if anyone ever finds out about these things it would . . . well, a judge wouldn’t allow the adoption to go forward. And I wanted you to know that this was a risk. Some. A slight one. Before we go any further.”
“This is just like you. Doing this. And now.”
“There’s one more thing . . .”
“Oh spare me the sour grapes Ben!”
“I thought you’d want to know.”
The pen, when she hurls it at him, clatters from Ben’s pant leg, provoking from her husband a quick but satisfying flinch.
“Well I don’t.”