As Samantha fell silent, he scooped out his legs, mimicking her posture too. With his feet in front of him, he eyed his hand-tooled leather shoes, and wondered what exactly had happened to his life where, on a Friday at five in the afternoon, he wasn’t at the office, arranging deals and meetings to get ahead of the weekend, and was instead having a crisis of the emotional variety.
He couldn’t say he didn’t prefer the latter. He’d have been lying if he’d said he appreciated this shit, but if it meant helping Erin, he’d make the sacrifice. Because of the man Josh had once upon a time considered a brother, he and Samantha were in this state. But he’d make sure they both were protected.
If it was the last thing he did.
After a few moments pondering, she murmured, “Tell him. But warn him that you’ll bring out the big guns if he threatens Erin’s custody.” She peeped up at him through thick dark lashes. “Is there some kind of contract that can be drawn up? Something legal? Something that will stop them from being able to petition in the future?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’ll get one of my lawyers on the job. See what can be done, okay?”
Her smile was as warm as the colors of sunset on the watercolors decorating the vestibule. “Thank you, Josh. For everything.”
“It’s no problem.” He reached into his jacket and dragged out his cell phone. Shooting off a quick text to his attorney, requesting that, if he himself couldn’t advise, for him to find him the best attorney in the state for these kinds of family law matters. Then, when that was done and he received an instant response stating the affirmative and that Justin was on the case, he rolled through his contacts for Frank’s cell.
As he connected the call, Samantha squeaked, “You’re going to call him now?”
Despite himself, he grinned. When Frank answered, he said, “Hey Frank.”
“Joshua. Great to hear from you, kid. It’s been a long time.” From his tone, Josh discerned that Janice hadn’t called Frank.
Or he hadn’t answered.
To be honest, Josh wasn’t sure which option was correct. He could well imagine Janice not calling Frank even though it was spiting herself and nobody else. But by the same route, he could equally imagine Frank ignoring his wife’s call, thinking to speak with her later—after all, it was nearly six in the evening. He’d be home for dinner soon.
“Yeah, it has. Things have been busy,” Josh admitted. “I should have called sooner, checked in with you.”
“You’re a good kid,” Frank said softly. “We’re having good and bad days.”
Even though they hadn’t been close, Frank and Janice had reacted poorly to their son’s death. In fact, the level of their grief had surprised him. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking that it was more about regrets about what might have been, as well as the sadness at the loss of Jamie’s potential.
“I can believe it. And the same goes here.”
“Yeah. You two were like brothers. Peas in a pod back when you were kids. We were surprised when that didn’t change as you grew up. If anything, you got stronger.” Frank let out a chuckle. “I’m glad he had you.”
There was definite regret there. But there was no point in regretting shit. Frank’s lamenting didn’t make up for Jamie’s childhood.
The funny thing was, people reckoned the rich had it easy. But money didn’t mean shit. A family who gave a damn about their kids enriched their children’s lives more than wealthy and uncaring parents could for their child. Sure, there were plenty more advantages and opportunities, and that wasn’t fair, but emotionally? Josh would have preferred to have a parent who gave a shit about him than one who could afford the fees at his swanky school.
“Yeah. Me too.”
The words stuck in his craw. They were the truth, but what he’d learned recently about Jamie made it hard for him to swallow. The grief was still there like a festering wound. It bled every now and then, would scab over, and then he’d pick at it when he wanted to watch a Red Sox game or the Patriots were playing. The shit he’d once done with Jamie were sore nerves he never liked to prod.
But now?
The way the wound was festering wasn’t healthy.
Mixed in with his grief was outrage and disgust.
Never a healthy blend.
He let out a sigh. “I have to speak with you on a personal matter, Frank.”
The other man must have sensed the change in his tone. “What’s going on, Josh?”
He let out a sigh. “Look, you’re not going to be happy about this, and I’ve already spoken with Janice—her reaction couldn’t have been worse.”
“She called a few minutes before you did. But I thought I’d be seeing her soon,” Frank murmured, cementing Josh’s earlier thought. Still, it came as no real surprise. When it came down to hurting their money, it was always likely Janice would act predictably.
“These past couple of months, Samantha and I have been helping each other, you know? It’s been hard, Frank. Real hard. We’re the only ones who could understand what the other was going through. We knew Jamie not as a son, but as the man he was.” He cleared his throat, and though the lie was meant to soft soap Frank, it really was hard to maintain the fiction. “We grew closer and the time came for me to man up and admit my feelings… I proposed and she said yes.”