Chapter 13
Dear Kate,
Are you happy? I know that's a heavy question to start off with, but it's been on mind for a while. Not just with you, but with Vanessa and Willa too.
“That's rich,” Kate said, sitting the letter down on her desk. After helping Vanessa get her things from her house, she went back to work to prepare for her court appearance that afternoon. She wasn't going to read Hope's letter until she got home from work, but the damn thing was practically taunting her from inside her purse. “Read me!”
If Hope had been so worried about their happiness she wouldn't have forced Kate and Vanessa into uncomfortable situations and she sure as heck would have sent Willa a letter by now. The poor girl was flapping in the breeze. Kate called her after she'd left Vanessa at Greyson's and she could tell by her tone that she was still bummed that she was the last to be reach out to from beyond the grave.
She continued reading.
When you know you're going to die you have a lot of time to think about all of the things that you'd wished you done. Or that you'd seen. For me it's skydiving and seeing Britney in Vegas. Don't judge me. Britney is an American treasure and I don't care what you say.
Kate laughed. A real LOL moment. It wasn't too often that you actually laughed out loud when you were alone, but Hope always knew what to say to get a reaction.
God I miss her, Kate thought.
I guess what I'm trying to say is I don't want you to look back on your life and think “what if I would have...” I don't want you to have regrets like I do. I don't want you to miss Britney, damn it.
If Greyson gave this to you then I know that you met Deacon. And, I know that you're thinking of every reason on the planet not to give it an honest try with him. Yes, I sent you a man that doesn't live the life you think is what defines success, but I'm telling you it doesn't have to be one way or the other.
If you like him, if you really like him, then find some balance, Kate. Or at the very least give it the old college try (and not the half assed, I'll-pencil-him-for-a-lunch try.) A real one. Because you deserve it and he's a great guy. Be happy, Kate.
Love, Hope
* * *
Hope's words were ringing so loudly in Kate's ears that she nearly missed her cue when one of the members of the parole board, a judge, asked for her to approach. She may have only read them on paper, but Hope may as well have screamed them “Be happy.”
“Miss Beckett, are you feeling all right?” Judge Vernon asked Kate when she approached the table. There were five members of the board total—Judge Vernon, the prison warden, and few other staff members she recognized from her visits.
“Yes, your honor,” she said. “I worked late last night, so I'm a little tired, but I'll get it together,” she assured him.
“Okay,” he said with a knowing smile. He was a judge, he'd been through the law school, law firm, working your way up the ladder ringer once himself. The gray in his hair and creases around his eye were telling signs. “You know this is your client’s last appeal, so I just want to make sure he's given a fair shake.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. She appreciated a judge that wanted to hear from both sides. The client in question had served ten years of a twenty-year sentence for an armed robbery conviction he'd been charged with when he was twenty-six. He'd fired a weapon, hitting a security guard in the leg and leaving him with permanent damage, which is why the sentence was so harsh. His family had saved for years to hire an attorney like Kate. Kate was lucky that Judge Vernon was a giving him a fair chance.
“Let's resume,” he said, directing Kate back to her desk and gave her client a reassured nod. When she found her spot, she turned to the judge with a nod. “Miss Beckett proceed.”
“Thank you, your honor,” Kate said, holding her shoulder back confidently. “Mr. Wilson,” she said, pointing out her client, “has more than proven that he has reformed during his time in prison. He's gotten an education. He's worked hard at every detail he's been given, including the most recent in the kitchen where he's worked his way up to shift supervisor. He's become a productive member of this society and it's my belief, along with the counselors he's met with while incarcerated that he can be a productive member of the society outside of these walls,” she told them.
The board members looked through their folders and conversed for a few minutes amongst themselves, before Judge Vernon spoke up. “Mr. Wilson,” he said. “What is it that you've learned from your time served?”
“More than I bargained for sir,” he said, nervously from his chair. “I made a mistake when I was younger. Committing a crime as a means to end, and because of that I've lost years with my children. Years I can't get back.”
“And you feel that you've reformed completely?” the Warden asked.
“Yes, sir,” Mr. Wilson said. “In many ways. I've learned how to be happy with what is in front of me. All I want is to be a part of my children's lives. I don't want to miss any more time with them than I already have.”
Judge Vernon nodded and Kate placed her hand on Mr. Wilson's trying to calm his nerves. He'd said the right things. He just wanted to be happy.
So did Kate.