Page 90 of Meet Me in Montreal

“You’re right. None of it is funny. It’s not funny that Bobby married the wrong person because it’s what you wanted. Or that we both can’t just ever rest. I can’t be an attorney. I have to be apartner, after only three years out of law school. Bobby can’t just be a doctor. He has to be the top heart surgeon in the Northeast. Even your favorite can’t please you. What chance did I have?”

“Oh, please, I don’t have a favorite,” Nadine chided with a dismissive laugh.

“But you do, Mom. You make sure I and everyone else hears about it every chance you get. Bobby has the biggest house. Bobby has the best marriage. Bobby has a baby because he chose the best partner. Zoe’s so mature! Well, look at them now. Look at me.”

“Jealousy is an ugly emotion. You could have had everything he has, but you made your own bad decisions.” Nadine’s shaking fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt.

“You know what? You’re not wrong. I was jealous of him and Zoe. And you’re right about another thing. I made a bunch of wrong choices based on what I believed you wanted, even when I knew better. Every time, I zigged when I should’ve zagged.” Vanessa sighed, smoothing one of her frizzy curls with her fingers contemplatively. “Except for marrying Santino. That was all my choice. And it was a good one.”

She wound the curl around her finger while Nadine went quiet and still, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. If there was any part of this new non-existence she rather liked, it was the springy feel of that curl. It was the simple things in life.

“Anyway, Bobby will figure his thing out. As for Zoe…well, I know I should be zen and understand what she did was a function of her own unhappiness, but fuck her. Honestly, fuck her.”

Nadine gasped. “Despite everything, she’s Everly’s mother and Everly needs both her parents.”

“Okay, but what do you want me to do about it? Really,what? I’m not some magical being that can swoop in and save the day.” Vanessa was suddenly shaking, blinking back scalding tears of her own. “You say you don’t have favorites? Okay. But I find it very telling that I told you I’m broken, and that I don’t know how to receive or give love, and the only thing you have to say is I need to fix Bobby’s life. I give up. I can’t do this anymore.”

While Nadine glared at her, Vanessa heaved herself up from her chair by the armrests. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an active breakdown to get back to. The dishes in my cabinets aren’t going to smash themselves.”

Nadine gaped up at her. “Are you throwing me out of your house?”

Vanessa threw her hands up, then let them drop at her sides. “That’s your interpretation. I would never. I just thought you’d like to enjoy the rest of the afternoon out here instead of watching me cry. Bring Everly next time. Otherwise, I won’t be going over there for a while.”

“Vanessa!” her mother called after her as she went inside the house and locked the sliding patio door behind her.

She schlumped to the living room and flopped down on the couch. For a long moment, she waited for the inner critic to gloat and tell her she was the worst daughter ever born for speaking toher mother with such flippancy, such bad language, such brute-strength honesty. Nothing came.

“What about you, Auntie? You think I’m a terrible daughter?” Vanessa turned to Belle’s picture, who only smiled back at her with soft, proud eyes.

On Monday, she walked into the office the minute she hit the doorstep. Once inside, she went straight to Jace’s office. Trial prep hadn’t been going well since she’d returned, and he was anxiously perched on the edge of his swivel chair, his jaw tight. When he spotted her putting her bag on her desk, he gestured to her frantically.

“Claremore’s in Mancini’s office right now,” he said in a low voice after shutting the door. “Mancini’s been trying to convince him not to take the stand, but he’s not budging, the narcissistic fuck. Do you know about this?”

Jace held up an SD card, his nostrils flaring. There was also a file in a folder that he handed to her. She took it from him and opened it to read the document and look at the accompanying photo.

“Where did you get this?” she asked, sucker punched at what she was looking at.

“Patel, of course. He got it Thursday, and it checked out as legit.” Jace looked through one of the clear panels in the wall as if waiting for Claremore to bust in on them.

The photo was a still shot taken from a door cam that they’d been told wasn’t active. Someone had apparently lied. The image was of Claremore’s goon, Joe Spallini, in front of the door of the house across the street.

“Let me play it for you. It’s all on here,” Jace said grimly.

He inserted the card into his computer and got the file open. There he was, a little blurry, but unmistakable. It was Joe Spallini, alright, breaking and entering one of the houses that had been set on fire in the neighborhood Claremore wanted to take over. There had been rumors of Spallini handling unsavory business on Claremore’s behalf in the past, but nothing had stuck. Evidence disappeared, witnesses recanted or refused to talk at all. Charges always dropped, if they were brought at all.

But here he was, captured on video, looking cool and confident entering the premises. Moments later, he walked out. It took a while, but dark smoke began billowing out of the windows on either side of the door. It wasn’t long before the whole structure was up in flames. From this angle, they couldn’t see the windows on the sides or back of the house, but they already knew the person inside had never left. The squatter had died in this fire. Now all that was left was for Patel to get Spallini to confess that he’d been ordered to do it by their client.

“Patel is going to admit this into evidence when the trial resumes and you know Bennett is going to allow it in. This is it. We’re fucked,” Jace declared.

“Claremore’s fucked. We’re not,” Vanessa said quietly. “Or at least, I’m not.”

Jace frowned at her, hands on his hips. “What are you saying, Watson? If we lose, we lose together.”

“You know I’ve been going through some things lately.” He nodded, folding his arms over his chest. She continued. “Over the weekend, I made a decision. I’m sorry to leave you hanging, but I’m withdrawing as second chair.” She said it slowly, watching the reactions of shock, then horror, then resignation take their turns on his face. “I’m going to tell them it’s for personal issues, which is partially true. But I’m not going to allow myself to be used. I’ve been talking to Grimes about the case,” she said quickly. Grimes was one of the other juniorassociates who had more trial experience than her and who was itching to make junior partner. “He’s ready and willing. He’s up to speed on the details, and I know he’d be happy to take my place.”

“It’s too close to the end of the trial. Claremore’s never going to consent to this,” Jace warned.

“Well. I guess we need to go find out.”

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