James fidgeted with his collar. He straightened his tie, coughed to clear his throat. Finally, when he could delay no longer, he called Janet into his office.
“Are they here?”
“They’ve been here for ten minutes. Just get on with it, James. You’ve got other appointments this morning, including Tal Evans. If you don’t see them now, everybody else will get backed up.”
“All right,” he said, sighing. “It’s now or never. Bring them on back.”
He folded his hands and put them on the desk in front of him. Then he tilted his head back and looked at the streaming dust motes. He liked the dust motes better than cloud formations, which never looked like much of anything to him. Maybe that was his problem. He’d always been a concrete thinker. Abstraction was lost on him. But the dust motes, those had something to show him. Today they were swirling like the sun in one of Vincent van Gogh’s landscapes. It was, he decided, possibly a good portent.
“Ah-hum.”
He jerked his head forward, looked at his brother Joe and his sister-in-law, Marian, standing in front of his desk, looking expectant.
“Hey!” he said, a little too cheerfully.
He stood up and shook Joe’s hand, gave Marian a sketch of a hug. They both sat down in the chairs Janet brought in, declined her offer of coffee.
“Are you all right?” Marian blurted out, once Janet left the room. “James, you’re not sick, are you? Nothing terminal?”
“Oh heavens, no,” James said quickly. “Is that what you thought? That I was dying?”
“It occurred to us,” Joe said. “You know, calling us to see you here at the office and all. Like it was something official.”
“No, that’s not it at all,” James said. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. It’s just that I’ve been so busy lately, and with all that’s happened, with Weezie and all…there were some things I wanted to discuss with you.”
“She’s not in any legal trouble, is she?” Joe asked, his face creased with worry. “She told us all that was over with. They charged that Mayhew woman with murder, that’s what we read in the paper.”
“It’s not Weezie,” James said. “She’s fine. No problem at all there. In fact, I think she and Tal are going to renegotiate the divorce settlement.”
“Why?” Marian asked.
“Tal wants to sell Weezie the townhouse,” James said, smiling despite himself. “He’s, uh, had some reversals of fortune lately.”
“Meaning what?” Joe said bluntly. “Is the son of a bitch broke?”
“Not quite,” James said. “But the state has issued a stop-work order at the paper plant out at Beaulieu. Some kind of environmental concerns. There are suits and countersuits. Coastal Paper Products is suing Tal’s firm, alleging malfeasance in the firm’s management of the project. In the meantime, all the negative publicity has hurt the company. The work isn’t coming in. And since he’s not currently living in the townhouse, he’s decided that’s an expense he can trim. He called yesterday and offered to sell the house to Weezie.”
“I’ll bet he’ll try to soak her for it too,” Joe said.
“Not necessarily,” James said, smiling again. “I think he’s had a late-breaking attack of guilt. Considering the fair market value of the house, the offer he’s made is extremely reasonable. Favorable, even.”
“Can she afford to buy it?” Marian asked, the look of concern on her face matching Joe’s now. “On what she makes selling junk?”
“I wouldn’t worry about Weezie,” James said. “She’s really quite a good businesswoman. Now. About why I asked you to meet me here today.”
He took a deep breath. Said an abbreviated prayer.
“I’m gay,” he said.
“We know,” Marian said.
Joe shifted a little in his chair. He looked down at his shoes, which were neatly polished, and tugged at the top of his socks. He straightened the crease in the khakis Marian had pressed early that morning.
James looked down at his own socks. They did not need pulling up, so he looked back at his brother and sister-in-law, who were regarding him with some mild curiosity.
“You know. How long have you known?”
“Always,” Joe said. “Since you were a kid. I didn’t know what to call it, but I knew you weren’t exactly like everybody else in the family.”
“You knew I was homosexual?” James could not believe how easily the word slipped from his mouth. He had never, up until now, used it to describe himself. “But how? I didn’t know myself. Not until recently.”
Joe shrugged. “It was a feeling I had.” He glanced over at his wife. “I never talked to anybody about it. Not even you, Marian. I just didn’t think it was anybody else’s business but yours, James.”
Marian patted Joe’s hand reassuringly. “You know how he is, James.”
James felt his jaw dropping. “What about you, Marian? Did you know?”
“No,” Marian admitted. “Not until that day in the restaurant Weezie took me to. I saw you with that other man, and I think at some point, I realized that he was your, um, friend.” She blushed. “Even though I was pretty drunk that day, I somehow figured things out. And as soon as I figured it out, I also figured out that I was the last one to know.”
She forced a little smile. “That’s what alcohol does. It clouds things.”
“Oh.”
James scooted his chair a little ways from the desk so that he could get a broader picture of his family. They seemed very calm. No hysterics, no accusations. This was not what he had expected.
“What made you decide to tell us?” Marian asked. “If you don’t mind my asking.”
“Several things,” James said. “You’re my family. I don’t want to have that kind of a secret from you. It’s not something I’m ashamed of, you know.”
Joe nodded.
“And another thing,” James went on quickly. “Phipps Mayhew, the husband of the woman who murdered Caroline DeSantos, has been going around town spreading stories about me. It’s revenge. Because I figured out his crooked dealings with Beaulieu. He’s told the archbishop that I’m gay. Because he thinks that will hurt me financially.”
“Will it?” Joe asked.
“I don’t know yet,” James said. “If it does, so be it. There’s plenty of legal work in this town. I own the house, my car’s paid for. I’m not worried about money.”
“Good,” Marian said. “Listen, James. One of the women in my Christian women’s group, I was telling her you’re a lawyer. She needs a will. I told her to call you.”
“Thank you,” James said, touched by her gesture.
“Her name is Naomi,” Marian said proudly. “She used to be a crack head.”
Since it was full disclosure time, James decided to go all the way. Get everything out in the open. “My friend,” James said, suddenly emboldened. “His name is Jonathan. He’s a lawyer. He works in the district attorney’s office.”
“A lawyer! How nice,” Marian said, beaming. “Who are his people?”