Page 77 of More Than Chemical
And not the week before or last month or any other month during the months we hadn’t spoken.
Stop it, Ade. Stop it right now.I was here to listen to what he had to say, receive some version of an apology, and see if we could patch things up, not become more irritated, more bitter.
“Dad.” I took a deep breath and let it out. This was it. I was going to get right into it.
He reached out and touched my hand. “The reason I’m dressed up is that we’re going to take our sandwiches to my lawyer’s office and have lunch there. He wants to talk to us.”
“What?” My stomach did a somersault.
“It’s not far. Just about five minutes away.”
My neck tensed. I ground my teeth so hard my jaw hurt. I couldn’t believe it. My dad was treating our reunion as less important than a meeting with his lawyer.
I squeezed my hands into fists and looked out the window. I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to jump out of the car.
But I couldn’t get myself to make him pull over. Instead, I remained still, quietly seething.
Inside the law firm’s conference room, Dad put the sandwiches on the table while the lawyer reached his hand out to shake mine. “Hello, Adriana. My name is Gray Horton.”
How was it that so often a person’s name described them perfectly? The man was bland. Generic. I glanced down at his hand, at the neatly trimmed fingernails that looked like something out of a cosmetology handbook. But I didn’t grasp it, because my dad had invitedhislawyer toourlunch. Thefirstlunch, the firstrealconversation we were supposed to have in months.
We all sat down.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Adriana,” Gray said. “A chemical engineering student. Wow, that’s pretty difficult coursework.”
“Yeah.” My voice had no strength, no vibrance.
“But not for my Adriana.” Dad’s spine straightened, and his chest expanded. “She’s a straight-A student, always has been.”
Not anymore. Not since he’d reduced me to a sleep-deprived, dysfunctional mess. I placed my palms on the table and bit my bottom lip. It hurt like hell, but I had to do it because I wasn’t sure what might come out of my mouth if it opened.
“That’s great,” Gray said.
A second later, a legal assistant came in with a tray of different drinks. Dad took a Coke. I grabbed a bottle of one of those fancy sparkling waters. Might as well. Dad was paying for it.
“So, Adriana, I’m not sure how much detail your dad was able to go into so far, but I wanted to explain to you a little about his case.”
“My mom mentioned it, but I don’t need to know details.” I took a sip from the bottle of water.
“Actually, we think you should.”
I knew that this guy was a lawyer and I should be respectful, but I was beyond that. Not only had he ruined my day, but he must not understand that I didn’t care about the trial. I just wanted it to be over. Every loose end tied up, so people would start forgetting about what had happened.
The lawyer and I locked gazes.
Then he blinked. “You need to know about the case because we want you to be an exhibit at the trial.”
My stomach shrank. I was no longer hungry. I was ill. “A what?”
“An exhibit. That’s what we call the family members who are in the courtroom supporting the defendant. We can’t call character witnesses to testify, because there’s no he-said-she said at issue, but we can make sure the family is there sitting behind your dad. This will speak volumes to the jury.”
I glanced at my father. He was leaning in, his lips parted, waiting for my reaction.
In that moment, I sort of felt bad for him, but as quick as the feeling came, it disappeared.
I looked back at the lawyer. “As my dad already knows and should have explained to you, I’ve started a new life with a new name so that I could attend Minnesota University in peace. Going to the trial would ruin everything I’ve done to put last year behind me. So no, Iwill not be attending.”
Gray squinted at me. “Your dad has told me this, and I don’t think you going to the trial will ruin your new identity. Video cameras are not allowed in the courtroom, and your presence could mean the difference between a guilty and a not-guilty verdict.”
