Friday evening, despite the massive storm rolling into our area, I do not have a panic attack during the bumpy takeoff or for the rest of the flight home, but only because I am distracted.
For starters, I’ve never had an older woman hit on me. The flight attendant is pretty, too. Late thirties. Blonde. Nice body. And very friendly. She even serves me a beer. On the house.
I accept the drink to be polite, but the last thing I need is to show up at my parents’ house smelling like alcohol. Also, I need a clear head when I get there. It’s not every day you ask your parents: Am I having a psychotic break, or do I look like I’ve put on fifty pounds of muscle mass? Also, can I lift your car?
So while I can’t say the flirtation from the flight attendant is welcome, she does help me get through the flight. It’s the easiest thing I’ve done all week.
“Bye, Huff! Come see us again real soon!” The attendant waves as I exit the plane, toting my carry-on.
I give her the brow salute and make my way to the ride-share pickup zone. Mom and Dad know I’m coming, but they think it’s only for moral support. They’ve had a lot to digest this week with the fallout of the civil suit. Kyle won’t give details until he sees me in person because, according to him, there’s still one loose end to tie up before the judge will make the jury’s verdict public.
Whatever that is, I’m not sure I want to know. We’ve already been through so much, and it’s time to put the past behind us.
I catch my ride, and time starts moving slowly. Traffic. A huge accident, and I’m stuck on the freeway only ten miles from the exit to our house. “How long do you think this will take?” I ask the driver, a nice older woman who keeps her eyes on the road and not me. A blessing.
“No idea. You might want to call ahead and let your party know you’ll be late.”
That’s not such a bad idea. I dial Kyle, and he answers after two rings.
“Where you at, Huff?”
“I’m not far, but there’s an accident. Could be a while.”
“Really? But we’re all waiting for you so I can announce the big news.”
“Nothing I can do. But what big news?”
“Hold on. Let me go outside.” There’s a pause, and I hear our front door creak. “Okay. I guess I can put you out of your misery. We won.”
We won? “What does that mean exactly?”
“The named parties caved at the last minute and made us an offer,” he says.
“Offer? Like what? To place themselves in prison?”
“No, Huff. They’re never going to do time unless a witness steps forward. This is the second-best outcome.”
I can tell his voice has switched to salesman mode. It’s what he used on the campaign trail. “Which is?”
“They offered us a deal at the last minute, before the jury came in. It’s thirty million dollars.”
I can hardly find the words to express my disbelief. “They’re giving our family thirty million?”
“Yep. The only condition is that the records have to be sealed, but it’s a solid win, Huff. We sign off on Monday morning after our lawyers make a final review of the settlement.”
My hand goes weak. I try not to vomit. “What was that last part again?”
“Sign off on Monday. But that’s merely a technicality. It’s over, and we—”
“No. I meant the part about the records being sealed,” I say.
“It’s a common practice when you settle out of court.”
“Whoa. Whoa. So they don’t have to admit to the world what Manda and her friends did? How’s that justice for our sister?”
“Neither party can discuss the terms of the deal publicly. But this is a win, Huff. They thought they’d get away with covering up Joy’s murder. They’ll be paying the rest of their lives.”
My blood boils with rage. The only thing worse than Kyle thinking this is a win is that my sister’s murderers don’t have to take responsibility publicly. “You’re wrong, Kyle. They won. Money is nothing to people who’ll lie, cheat, and steal to get more of it. You should’ve held out for the jury.” At least then, we would have had a chance to show the world that we aren’t the only ones who think these monsters are guilty.
“Huff, you don’t get it. Money is the only thing these people understand.”
“Fuck the money, Kyle. And fuck you. Tell Mom and Dad I love them and they’re idiots if they accept this offer. Justice means justice. Not a paycheck for Joy’s life.”
“You’re not coming?”
I answer his question by ending the call. I go to my phone and start searching nearby hotels. No, not for me.
I know Manda and her family moved away some time ago, but if they were in town this morning to negotiate with our lawyers, there’s a chance they’re still here.
I look at a photo of the nicest hotel near town. It’s on a golf course. Five-star restaurant and spa. And I know exactly where I would stay if I were human trash with money to burn.