65

Jason

His mother wasn’t happy. Neither was his father or his niece Tawney. But Jason is. Although he’s got some guilt around his family’s distress, he recognizes that he needs to do what’s right for him. He doesn’t want to get too ahead of himself, but he’s pretty sure Sabrina is pleased with his decision too.

He’s been in San Francisco for almost four months now, and although the weather is cooler and rainier than he imagined, in almost all other ways, the move has been a boon. Through a friend of a friend he snared a sublet that runs until the end of the year. It’s not in the greatest location, but it sure beats his Allston apartment. There are two bedrooms, a reasonably sized living room, and although the kitchen is dated, it easily holds a table for four. Plus it’s furnished. The perfect place to figure out what’s next, and that’s beginning to fall into place.

He may be finished with corporate law, but his corporate law credentials have come in handy, as did his old boss’s recommendation. Those years at Spencer Uccello advising companies hiring foreign nationals, as well as his smaller pro bono immigration cases there and the ones he was involved with on his own, turned out to be the exact prerequisites for a job at the ACLU. And now he’s helping immigrants get visas and green cards, as well as supporting them through asylum petitions.

He landed the job three months ago. It’s better than he expected it to be, and he’s better at it than he would have thought. He’ll never get rich like his cronies at the firm, but Jason now recognizes that, just as Sabrina said, the whole big-condo, fancy-dinner, and expensive-suit crap wasn’t him. He finally appreciates that the fat, nerdy kid with glasses doesn’t have to prove himself to anyone.

The ACLU office is above a Walgreens on Drumm Street, and this is just fine with him also. As is his cubicle in a noisy room with no lofty view of the harbor. But there are windows—a step up from Metropolis—even if they look out on an alley. He unplugs his laptop and puts it and a few files into his backpack, then says goodbye to his colleagues, one of whom is becoming a friend. He saunters down the street toward Olé, his favorite Mexican restaurant, to meet Sabrina for dinner.

He likes San Francisco, which in some ways reminds him of Boston. It’s newer and hillier, but the politics are similar and it has the same big-city, small-town feel. It, too, has an ocean—different from the Atlantic, but just as salty and alluring and unruly. Of course he misses his hometown and his family, and even after everything that happened, he misses Marta and Liddy and those crazy days at Metropolis.

Things worked out for most of his clients in Boston, especially Marta. Kimberlyn Bell got the price she wanted for her house in Roxbury, and although the whole Rose/Michael case was basically a fiasco, somehow they ended up on their feet. He’s still not certain how Rose got Michael’s arrest expunged, and he doesn’t want to know. Liddy isn’t faring as well, but he holds out hope that someday Garrett will relent and let her resume a more normal life.

Sabrina, as always, is late. When they were married, this drove him nuts, but now he just expects and accepts. He doesn’t know if this new attitude is due to his increasing maturity or because he is, once again, completely smitten with her. Jason orders two margaritas with extra salt and some guacamole, chats with the server as she prepares the guac at the table. The margaritas arrive, and he sips as he watches the door.

When Sabrina dashes in, her long braids flying away from her face, he’s struck by how beautiful she is. She glows. He stands, and Sabrina kisses him lightly on the cheek, pushes him playfully back into the booth, and then slides into the seat across from him.

It’s warm and damp outside, and she gracefully lifts her hair to the top of her head to cool off. This motion reveals her long neck and makes her cheekbones even more prominent. Her coppery skin shines. “Ain’t you the gallant brother,” she says in a teasing voice. “Standing up when a lady arrives.”

“You got that right.” Jason doesn’t tell her there was nothing gallant about it, that it was the sight of her that caused him to jump to his feet, that he wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. He’s wary of coming on too strong. There’s a lot of history between them, and she’ll bolt if she feels any pressure to commit to being more than they are until she’s ready.

Exactly what they are isn’t clear. They’ve progressed from the initial awkward lunches to dinners and then to actual dates. From no touching to quick, dry kisses and then to longer and wetter ones. But there’s been no sex and no talk of a future together. Jason was married to Sabrina for eight years, and he recognizes that she’s starting to respond to him. But he’s also aware he still has a lot to prove to her.

She grabs a handful of chips and starts scooping the guacamole. “Hungry as all get-out.”

“Go for it,” he encourages. Sabrina is always “hungry as all get-out,” and he’s always liked this about her. She’s tall and full-bodied, and he likes that about her too. At the moment, there isn’t much he doesn’t like about her.

“Spent half the day sitting on my ass at the courthouse,” Sabrina grouses. “That fucker Grinnell. Just loves to lord his judgeship over us peons. Especially if we’re from Safe Horizon.”

Jason has had his own run-ins with the Honorable Frank Grinnell. “Babe, you ain’t seen nothing till you’ve seen how he treats you if you’re from the ACLU.”

“True that,” she says, and takes a long draw on her margarita.

Jason’s phone rings, and when he sees it’s Liddy he lets it ring through. He’ll return it later. But then she calls again, and then again. “Sorry,” he says to Sabrina. “Something’s up with Liddy.”

“Jason,” Liddy cries into his ear. “It’s over! I’m free!”