Free Brambleman by Jonathan Grant

I’m a sociology professor, and I—”
    “You never looked at the manuscript or showed
an interest in your father’s work,” Kathleen said. “So don’t come
in and pull that.”
    Angela sighed. “Mom, I was going up to
Forsyth that day, remember?”
    “Dr. Talton, I—”
    “Ms. Talton,” Kathleen corrected. “She
teaches at Perimeter College. Unlike Thurwood, she doesn’t have a
PhD.”
    Charlie was starting to sympathize with
Angela, but expressing any such sentiment wouldn’t help his case.
“Professor Talton,” he said. “It’s a great story. And it’s tragic
that your father died without getting it published. It would be
worse if it never got into print. I’m committed to making it
happen. If you want someone to review the contract and my
credentials, that’s fine. I understand. I want everything open and
aboveboard. But we’ll get it done.”
    “So don’t you come in here messing up the
only chance I’ve got at getting Thurwood’s book published!”
Kathleen cried out, ignoring Charlie’s conciliatory tone. “Not
after you refused to do it. I don’t have much longer, and I know this man can do the job. He was sent here for that
purpose.”
    Angela turned to Charlie. “Ah, yes. That
mysterious stranger she talks about. What’s his name?”
    “Trouble,” Kathleen said.
    “Trouble,” Charlie agreed.
    “Double Trouble,” Kathleen said, then
giggled.
    Angela shook her head. “I’m not buying it.
I’m going to do some investigating. Meanwhile, Mr. Sherman, I want
a curriculum vitae, writing samples, and a detailed proposal
on your plan to get this book published. But you can’t stay
here.”
    “It will take a couple of days to work up a
marketing proposal, and I don’t have a curriculum vitae ,” he
said, pronouncing the term like it was an intestinal disorder. “The
résumé and writing samples I can give you. Hang on.”
    He went to the study. He was reviewing his
six-year employment gap when Angela stuck her head in the door. He
printed the single sheet and handed it to her. “This project means
as much to me as it does to your mother,” he said. “I can do it.
And I’m not a bad person. I just … fell down.”
    Her expression softened. She glanced over her
shoulder. “Are your parents still alive?”
    “No. My father disappeared a long time ago.
Eventually, he was declared dead. My mother got cancer. She hung on
long enough to see me graduate from college.”
    “Where’d you go?”
    “University of Missouri. Where I’m from.”
    “Good journalism school.”
    “I know. I graduated from it.”
    She raised her eyebrows appreciatively. “Any
brothers or sisters?”
    “A brother who died before I was born. I was
a replacement part,” he added, marveling that he would tell her
such a thing. He blew air through his lips in a gentle huff and gave her a wan smile.
    Angela whispered, “Sometimes I think I’m a
replacement part, too. It’s hard for me to help her when she’s like
this.”
    “I heard that!” Kathleen said, sidling past
Angela into the room.
    “You did not,” Angela said. “She always says
that. Just trying to keep me quiet.”
    Charlie grinned. “Look, I gotta go take care
of my kids. You two talk. Angela, I assure you that all I want is
to get the book published. I’ll be gone soon. Your mother’s
basement is not exactly prime living quarters.”
    When he left, he grabbed a trash bag from the
kitchen and put it in a wheeled garbage can behind the house. It
was partially overcast and the sun was playing peek-a-boo.
Charlie’s breath clouded the air. He inhaled deeply and told
himself not to worry. After all, things could be worse. While
Angela might dislike him, at least she didn’t call the cops or
shoot at him. Then again, that’s what family was for. When he
rolled the waste bin down the driveway to the street, he made a
racket, not wanting his good deed to go unnoticed.
     
    * * *
     
    Charlie glanced at his watch as he pulled off
Hanover