Forever Right Now

You haven’t been laid in ten months. She could be wearing a bag and you’d get hard.

I cleared my throat and sought sanctuary behind my desk. “So…emergency numbers are on the fridge,” I said, pawing through papers and throwing those I needed into my briefcase. “But honestly, if anything happens, call 911 first, me second.”

“Got it,” she said. Olivia was squawking to be picked up. Darlene lifted her and set her on her hip. “Oh, but I don’t have your phone number.”

I scribbled my number on a piece of paper and moved to hand it to her. “Write yours down,” I said, and shrugged into my suit coat I’d set out on the desk chair.

Darlene put pen to paper as Olivia played with her hair, then she frowned. “Wait. You can’t take my number with you; I need to keep your number. Let me get my cell; I’ll punch yours in.”

“No need,” I said. I picked up the paper and took a mental snapshot of Darlene’s phone number, then handed it back. “Got it.”

Darlene’s smile was ridiculously beautiful. “Mega-mind strikes again.”

I leaned in to kiss Olivia on the cheek, and caught a whiff of Darlene’s perfume and the faint scent of massage oil.

“Call for any reason,” I told her and hurried to the door. “I’ll be back in an hour and a half. Two, tops.”

“No problem,” Darlene said. “We’re good, aren’t we, sweet pea? Say bye-bye to Daddy.”

“Bye-bye, Daddy,” Olivia said from where she was securely fastened to Darlene’s slender hip, both of them smiling at me and waving.

My stupid perfect memory took a snapshot of that too.

Sawyer

My competition, Roger Harris, stood at attention outside the judge’s office at the Superior Courthouse, looking impeccable and put-together while I flew in with sweat slipping between my shoulder blades and my tie flying over my shoulder. I’d made it with a minute to spare. Roger glanced at his watch and gave me a smug nod in greeting.

In his office, Judge Miller went over our Hastings curriculum progress, results from latest finals, and read the mock briefings he’d assigned us since the last meeting a month ago.

Judge Jared Miller was a kind man but he never gave compliments or reprimands; his poker face was legendary in and out of the courtroom. He nodded with equal fervor—hardly any—at both Roger’s and my progress.

“Your final assignment before I make my decision,” Judge Miller said, regarding us both. “Write a brief regarding a personal incident in your lives and how you would handle it as prosecutors. That’s it. Until next month.”

I blinked then eased a breath. I’d been expecting something difficult, but this was easy. I knew already what I’d write about and what I’d say.

My mother. I’ll write about my mother.

“Mr. Haas, may I speak to you a moment?”

Roger’s eyes flare in panic be

fore he recovered himself. I returned his smug smile earlier with my own. “Of course, Your Honor.”

Judge Miller sat behind his desk without his black robe looking less like an acclaimed federal judge and more like a grandfather. Framed photos of his family lined his desk and hung on the walls beside degrees and honors from various universities. An 8x10 of what looked to be a granddaughter the same age as Olivia, shared wall space with a certificate of appreciation from the San Francisco Police Officers Union. He’d removed his tie and loosened his collar, then sat back in his seat, regarding me.

“Your finals are in the next two weeks,” he said.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“No real chance you won’t pass with flying colors.”

“I hope not, Your Honor.”

“And you’re registered for the bar in Sacramento next month.”

I nodded. It had cost me a small fortune and I’d had to tutor other law students after Livvie had gone to bed for two weeks but I did it.

“All set.”