FRIDAY, OCTOBER 5
Jaime had barely had time to kick off her shoes and rub her feet to work the knots out from a day in heels when her phone buzzed. It had been a long, emotional day, and she was ready to ignore the world—but her phone rang so rarely that it must represent an emergency of some sort. She glanced at the screen before clicking on the call. “Caroline?”
“Hey, Jaime. It’s still all right to come over, right?”
“Sure.” What else could she say? Her friend needed help, and Jaime would not have survived Con Law second semester without Caroline’s careful and meticulous prodding and outlining.
“Great! I just need to know where to park.”
“What?”
“I’m here with my suitcases, and I’ve circled the block a couple times. Y’all don’t have much in the way of parking around here.”
“That’s why I paid for a slot I don’t really need.” Not with the Metro a block away. There were a few visitor slots, but she’d need to plan for a longer-term solution. “How long are you planning on staying again?”
“A week. No longer than two.”
Jaime bit back a groan.
“So where can I park?”
“That’s a great question. Pull into one of the slots up front while I run down and check with the desk.”
A few minutes later she stood in front of the security/concierge desk. The place didn’t really need security because of its slightly out-of-the-way location, but someone important had moved in earlier in the year, and the security had appeared. Based on the level of upgrades, she did not want to know her new neighbor. Definitely a situation of ignorance being bliss.
After twenty minutes of wrangling and about that many calls from Caroline—which she ignored—Jaime was the proud owner of one very expensive bonus parking space paid for by the week.
She met Caroline at the drive and climbed into the classic Mustang. She hooked the tag on the rearview mirror. “The moment you leave I need this back so the charges quit accruing.”
“You mean you’re paying by the day for my parking?”
“No, you are.”
“Right. I’ll give my apartment manager the bill and tell them to get those floors stripped and refinished stat.”
After Caroline slid her car into the pricey slot, Jaime helped her lug her suitcases to the elevator and then into the apartment. The moment the bags were stacked next to the door, the space that had always been adequate shrank to ridiculously small. Caroline blinked as she looked around.
“This is nice, Jaime. Is that where I’ll sleep?” She pointed to the small futon Jaime had had since college.
Jaime cringed at the acknowledgment that she’d never had the girls over.
“I’ve been meaning to get a real couch.” Every time she about had the money saved, something else demanded it, like new tires for the car she tried not to drive. Why did life have to cost so much?
“I’m grateful you’re giving me a place to rest my weary head.” While she could tell Caroline meant the comment to be light, there was an underlying stress vibrating her words.
“Everything okay?”
“Sure.”
Definitely not. Well, Jaime was a queen of pressing an issue if it meant she could avoid her own. “You’ve got to be thirsty. I know I am after hauling your stuff up here. Have a seat on that old thing, and I’ll get us some sweet tea.”
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
Jaime could lie and say Caroline wouldn’t be, but it had been a long time since her friend had shared. If Caroline were in her shoes, she’d press until Jaime finally came clean. This was her turn to be the friend she often needed.
“We all need to drink.”
Caroline laughed. “When you put it that way, how can I say no?”
It only took a few steps to reach the tiny galley kitchen. The subway tile backsplash with small stainless appliances and granite countertop made her kitchen feel modern. There might not be much to it, but she didn’t need more. She only had silverware, plates, and glasses for four—enough to host Hayden, Emilie, and Caroline, if such an occasion ever arrived.
She poured two tall glasses of tea and handed one to Caroline.
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure.” Jaime took a sip, unsure how to start the questions. “So you’re sure everything is okay?”
“Of course.”
There was a long pause, and Jaime let the silence stretch as though Caroline were a reluctant witness.
“No. I don’t know.”
“That sounds about right.”
“I’m not like you, Jaime. I don’t have a clear line for my future.”
“I don’t know that mine is a direct path.”
“Oh, it is. You’ve had opportunities to leave criminal defense work, but you never do.”
“It’s my calling.”
“But why? We took the same criminal law and criminal procedure classes, but you don’t see me on the defense side.”
“No, you carry their futures with appeals.”
“How did you know that this is where you’re supposed to be?”
Jaime could only stare at her friend. Caroline was the one who always wore a smile and a carefree tone in her words. Sure, she was deep, but she carefully schooled that for work. Everywhere else she was the friend who brought an occasionally quirky sense of humor and a real sense of caring. “I drank the Kool-Aid in class. You were gone that day.”
“No, really. And you know I never skipped class.”
That was true; Caroline had been that responsible. It’d been kind of sickening to watch her walk around the law school perpetually carrying a can of Dr Pepper in one hand and a textbook in the other.
Jaime took a breath. “This isn’t anything you haven’t heard before.” Though tonight the words didn’t pour out as easily as other times. “I believe in our system. Enough that I want to protect it. Without effective advocates, even for the guilty, the system collapses and government gets too strong. To protect the innocent, I have to also fight for the guilty.”
“You still believe that?”
“The criminal process isn’t perfect.” She knew how far from that it was. “So I do what I can.” She took another breath. “I went to the Commonwealth’s Attorney today.”
Caroline startled. “For what? Are you changing jobs?”
Jaime snorted. “No. I’m working with Mitch McDermott to file charges against Dane.”
“Really? Wow.” Silence settled and stretched as Caroline took a sip of her tea, all the while keeping her gaze locked on Jaime. “I admire you, you know.”
“Why?”
“You’re righting a wrong that is twenty years old. That takes real courage.” Caroline was one of a handful who knew Jaime’s story, and she held it in highest trust.
“Maybe.”
“It does.”
Jaime wished she felt brave. She sat next to Caroline, wishing her life sparkled like her kitchen. In truth, she was more worn and abused than this futon she’d dragged through her adult life. And some things couldn’t be fixed with a simple swipe of a credit card.