Page 74 of 3rd Tango
After we snag our food and dig in, a comfortable silence falls. Mom is at one end, Dad the other. JJ’s across from me, Meg and Jerome next to him. Taylor and Matt are on my right.
Even though it’s quiet, Mom suddenly clinks her silverware against her water glass to get our attention.
“As you all know, we’ve resolved the Gayle case. I just want to thank Charlie and Meg, and you, Matt,”—her gaze goes to him and she smiles—“for helping me bring him to justice.”
In unison we raise our glasses to salute her, but Mom isn’t done. She accepts the congratulations, then makes an announcement. “Now that I’ve finished up that investigation, I’m looking for employment.”
Her gaze lands on me, and then Meg, a question. An invitation.
A boatload of hope.
No one knows her better than Meg, and she anticipated this—that mom needed a new hobby, a new focus. We discussed it, even bringing Dad in on it secretly, but we do not expect what comes next.
Mom’s smile is wide. “I want to work for Schock Investigations.”
Silence falls like an ax, this time startled, weighted.
All eyes swing to me.
I need to handle this carefully. Meg’s face tells me she’s torn between wanting to give Mom a new purpose, and knowing if she works for us, she’ll drive us to drink more than we already do.
Still, her skills, she’s proven, are top-notch. The Schock women are quite a force.
I clear my throat and act as though I need a sip of water before I can answer, stalling. I can’t say yes, but I can’t say no either. I search for some kind of happy medium, wondering how I always ends up on the spot at these Sunday lunches.
“We can always use a researcher,” I say, choosing my words carefully. Meg sees where I’m going with this and nods encouragement. “Your friends are assisting with paperwork. You could manage them for us.”
“You can run background checks and do follow-ups with clients,” she adds. “It’ll be perfect, because you can work from home, part-time, and just come to the office for our Monday morning meetings. You can get new assignments and bring us up to speed on your research.”
Her eyes light up, and I know she’s already considering the types of cases she can stick her nose in.
Dad, being Dad, tries to help us out. “Why do you want to go back to work, honey? We talked about buying an RV and traveling the country. I thought we were going to do that, since you don’t have to keep an eye on the neighbors anymore.”
He gives her a wink.
Mom hesitates, her smile fading slightly. “That’s true, but…”
“As long as you have wi-fi, we can email the information.” There has to be a way to make this work. “You can handle research on the road. Win-win.”
Her fingers play with her glass, twirling it slowly. “I don’t have the computer skills like you gals, though.”
Matt speaks up. “Our friend, Teeg, can help. He’ll have you up and running in no time.”
Teeg is a hacker for Justice Greystone and his team. I’m pretty sure his skills are not exactly what I want my mother to learn, but on the other hand…
Before I can steer the conversation in a different direction, the doorbell rings. JJ offers to get it, but I wave him off, tossing my napkin on the table. “I’ve got it.”
I’m quite dumbfounded to find Al on the doorstep. He looks at me sheepishly, hands folded in front of him, head tilted down. “I don’t mean to intrude,” he says. “But I needed to apologize to all of you, and especially—”
“Alfonzo?” Mom is at my side. She reaches out toward him, and he takes her hand. “Are you okay?”
He nods and releases her, keeping his spot, a respectful distance. “I’m still facing charges for covering up my former partner’s illegal acts, but I’m free for now. I’m sure Charlie and Meg told you about… Well, everything. I wanted to say I’m sorry for lying to you, Helen. I was in a tough spot, trying to keep you safe while not disclosing my…acquaintance…with Gayle.”
“Al,” Mom says, “I’ll admit, I was surprised, but I can see where you’d be conflicted. I do appreciate you coming, though.”
He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a business card to hand to her. “I wanted to give you this.”
I cock my head to read over Mom’s shoulder. Mary Goldstein, Crime Desk, D.C. Investigative Journal.
