ALL MORNING, ROBERT SAT BEHIND HIS DESK, UNABLE TO MOVE. A painful knot in his neck made it difficult to think. A ringing in his ears made it impossible to concentrate. He sat in his chair, staring blankly out the window at the cars passing by on the freeway below him.
Bobby’s funeral was two weeks ago, and he was fine most of the time. Work was the same as it ever was, boring, uncreative, unrewarding. At home, he and Jenna had achieved a delicate balance. It was a very guarded and defensive dance they did, each waiting for the other to move before responding with a counter-move. Sometimes Robert felt as if the house were an ice-skating rink and he spent most of his time trying to keep from bumping into Jenna. He hoped that soon things would get back to normal, but he feared this was the new norm. There is no going back to normal. It’s ahead to normal or it’s no normal at all.
Robert swiveled around when he heard the knock on his door. Steve Miller was standing in the doorway.
“Got a minute?” Steve asked.
Robert nodded and tried to shake himself out of his daze. Steve stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. That was strange. Robert never closed his door unless he was firing someone.
“The in-laws leave yet?”
“Yeah,” Robert answered. “They left last week.”
“That must be a relief.”
“Yeah. I don’t know. When they were here, at least we had a common enemy. We had to present a unified front to them. Now it’s every man for himself.”
Steve sat down.
“I was here talking to Chuck Phillips about a deal we’re putting together with First Bank. I wanted to stop by and see how things were going.”
“Well, they’re going, you know. The world doesn’t stop for one man.”
Robert turned back to the window. He didn’t care about Steve Miller, who dropped by. As if Robert were in a hospital. Dropped by for a visit.
“Everyone in the investor group is very sorry about what happened.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, you know, they feel terrible about the whole thing. Terrible.”
“Yeah, well, thanks.”
Robert hoped Steve would get up and show himself out and this encounter would be done with. But Steve wasn’t going anywhere.
“Robert, I have to talk to you about something.”
“Can’t it wait? I don’t really feel like talking right now.”
“No, this is important.”
Robert swiveled his chair back around to face Steve. Steve had a serious look on his face. It was his negotiating face. Robert had seen it countless times at conference tables, picking over fine points of contracts, pounding out details that meant little to the clients but meant the world to Steve.
“What?”
“Robert, they’re shutting down Thunder Bay.”
Robert sighed. Good fucking riddance.
“The Japanese group has backed out, and there’s nothing left to do but shut the whole thing down. Maybe in a few years things will be different.” He paused. “I thought you’d want to know that.”
“That’s it?”
“No, not really. Look, my group has really taken a bath on this. They borrowed a lot against the commitments and now our group has to ante up the loss, and it’s a real hardship on everyone.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because, even though the core group has got the shit end of the stick on this whole fiasco, they want to show how bad they feel about your boy passing on. They’d like to offer their condolences by way of giving you a little something for your grief.”
Robert was confused. Steve was talking around something, he could tell, but his mind wasn’t sharp enough right now to figure out exactly what.
“I have here, for you and Jenna, a certified check for seventy-two thousand dollars, which, we all know, doesn’t come close to making up for the loss you feel. But at least maybe it can make things a little better.”
Robert’s expression hadn’t changed a bit. He didn’t really understand. They were offering him money. Should he be offended or thankful? Was it an insult or a kind gesture?
“I don’t get it,” he said, finally.
“There’s nothing to get, Robert. The people I work with are genuinely upset at your misfortune and they want to offer you something. That’s all.”
Steve snapped open the locks on his briefcase and pulled out a business envelope, which he slid across the desk to Robert. Robert took the envelope in his hand. It was expensive stationery, linen, smooth and silky feeling, light cream-colored with a red monogram on the upper left corner. The monogram read “RGB Group, LP.” Robert looked inside and saw a check made out to him, stamped and punched, for seventy-two thousand dollars.
“That’s very kind of you, Steve. I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, Robert, really.”
Robert and Steve sat across from each other for a few moments, not saying a word, nodding their heads. There was something going on, Robert knew it. Why else would Steve just sit there nodding. If this was the only thing he wanted to talk about, why didn’t he leave?
“There’s one other thing,” Steve said, holding up his finger. “It’s a little item of business I need to take care of to wrap the whole Thunder Bay business up for the lawyers.” Steve pulled out another envelope and unfolded several pages. He passed the pages across the desk to Robert.
“What is it?” Robert asked.
“It’s a ‘hold harmless’ document. You know, releasing RGB from any liability for what happened.”
Robert stared at the papers. Hold harmless. He was having a hard time concentrating. His neck really hurt. What does it mean? The words were linked together in complicated sentences. Waive the right to recourse through the court system.
“I can’t read this right now. What does it mean?”
“It says that what happened up there was nobody’s fault and that you don’t hold RGB responsible. That’s all. No biggie. Sign it, and it’s all over.”
“But what is this, waiving my rights?”
“Look, Bob, it says you’re not going to sue us. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything more or less than that. I mean, you weren’t going to sue us, anyway, were you?”
“No, I guess not.”
Robert leaned back and tried to concentrate. He hadn’t thought about that. About suing. It was too much to think about right now.
“So?”
“I should let my lawyer take a look at this, I think.”
Steve groaned and shook his head.
“We’re trying to avoid lawyers, here, Robert. Look, this is man to man. My group made a generous contribution to you and your wife, and now you should thank them by signing on the dotted line. Your lawyer is going to tell you not to do it. But I have to be honest, if you did try to sue RGB, you’d lose. Everything would come out. About Jenna not knowing how to handle a boat, about her not making the kid wear a life jacket. No court in the world would award you any damages. I mean, I’m not pointing any fingers, here, but come on. How is RGB responsible? You’d end up with a ton of legal bills and no settlement. And, on top of that, Jenna would be put through a very painful ordeal.”
Steve took a deep breath and let what he said sink in with Robert.
“I just handed you a check for seventy-two grand,” he went on. “Very generous. Very. You sign the papers and that’s that. We can all put this behind us and get on with our lives.”
Robert buried his head in his hands. Steve was right. They wouldn’t sue, and if they did, they would lose. Bobby wasn’t wearing a life jacket. How are investors responsible for that? It was a stupid mistake and the price was high. But still, he didn’t know how Jenna would feel about this. He felt like he was being bought out.
“Steve, I don’t know what Jenna’s going to say.”
“So, don’t tell her now.”
Robert shook his head. Steve had thought a lot more about this whole thing than Robert had. Steve had the answers.
“Wait to tell her. She’s grieving, let her grieve. No need to bother her about any of this. Take the money, set up an account, and when the time is right, surprise her. Then it’ll be like a bonus. It’s not a bad thing, Robert; it’s a good thing. I swear.”
Robert just wanted to go home and take a nap. He was tired and his head hurt and he wanted out. So he signed the papers. He kept one copy for himself and Steve took the other. Steve stood up to leave and looked down at Robert.
“It’s the best way, Robert. It’s over now. Quick and painless. We can move on to greener pastures now.”
Steve left Robert alone in his office wondering if he had done the right thing, feeling that he had been bullied into something he didn’t really want, but not caring, really. Not caring about anything. Because Robert had been deflated. He just realized it. The ringing in his ears he had been hearing since Bobby’s death was all the air escaping from his body. And now, it seemed, the air was all gone. The ringing was no longer there. He was a flat balloon on the surface of the moon, where checks meant nothing and legal documents meant less than that. Nothing comes of nothing, said King Lear. And that’s what Robert had. A whole lot of nothing.