Free A Promise to Remember by Kathryn Cushman

hand,
empty canvas waiting.
    Chad had been the only source of encouragement in her
painting. Now he was gone.
    She opened the drawer to the end table, removed last month's
edition, and placed the new one in its spot.
    Okay, one less thing for Blair to get angry about. Though with
sudden awareness she knew it wouldn't matter. One magazine in
a drawer meant nothing. Their problems and Blair's frustrations
lay deeper. She knew something at the office was not going well,
but more than that she felt that deep down Blair blamed her.
He blamed her for Chad's death. How could he not?
    She threw herself on the couch and buried her face in
the pillows. Why had she not intervened in Chad's problems
sooner?

    When she lifted her head, she noticed the smudges on the
coffee table from her fast-food lunch. Couldn't she do one
thing right?
    Just then Blair's voice boomed from the back of the house.
"Andie, is it too much to ask for you to put your shoes back in
the closet? I just tripped over your sandals in the hallway and
spilled my papers everywhere."
    "Sorry." Yes. She had failed at everything.

     

chapter eight
    Melanie's fingers tightened on the phone. "They filed a
what?"
    "A demurrer."
    Something in Les's voice reminded her of a parent trying
to explain the obvious to a toddler. Control yourself. Getting
in itated with your lawyer will not help you or Jeff. "What does
that mean, and how will it affect us?"
    "To simplify the explanation, basically they are saying there
is not a legally sufficient reason to proceed with this suit."
    These people would stop at nothing. "Did they see the
pictures? Did they see my son's car-so crushed the police
couldn't identify the make? Did they see Jeff-so battered his
own mother could barely identify him? What, have they been
out of the country during all this?" Hysteria was setting in, but
she didn't care. "How dare they say we don't have sufficient
grounds! I'll show them some grounds."
    "Melanie, you need to calm down. They know there are
grounds. This is just standard practice. I've been expecting it."
    "Expecting it? You would expect such garbage?" She looked
from the faded paint on her walls to the cracked linoleum, then pictured the Phelps family laughing and drinking champagne
in a fancy kitchen with imported tile and granite countertops.
Money spoke louder than common sense, it seemed.

    "Don't worry, it just takes patience to meander through the
process. Next on the agenda is the hearing. I expect our complaint will be sustained."
    "How long do we have to wait for all this?"
    "It usually takes three to four weeks. After that, I file an
amended complaint and we start again. All in all, we lose maybe
a month of time, but we will keep moving forward, and we will
win this thing."
    "Seems to me they're fighting dirty."
    "It's the way the game is played." He paused and cleared his
throat. "Maybe you should keep that in mind."
    She shook her head, felt her grip tighten. "Don't start in on
me about going to a psychiatrist again. I told you, I'm not doing
it. I'm keeping my journal of thoughts and memories like you
asked, but even that seems silly to me. Any jury with half a heart
would know that I'm grieving myself sick. I don't need a journal
for that, and I do not need some shrink asking me `how that
makes me feel' because he's too stupid to see the obvious."
    "An expert witness testifying on your behalf would strengthen
the case."
    "Well, I don't want to strengthen my case that way. I'm in
the right, and I don't need a high-priced medical puppet to
confirm it."
    He laughed. "I have to admit, I like the strength of your
convictions, even if they don't help our case."

    "Here are your phone messages, and Shane Greyton from Vitasoft is on line one," Blair's secretary said and skittered from the room before he could respond. Rumors must be getting
around the office.

    He lifted the phone and pushed the button. "Blair Phelps."
    "Hello, Blair. How are