Chapter
JFK left Clover’s house and drove straight toward the Cornerstone Office Complex. If he didn’t do it now, he might never be able to find enough courage to do it. It was only ten minutes away, but JFK wished it was much further than that.
“Mercy’s worth it,” he told himself as he pulled open the door of the four-story office building and stepped inside. He’d gone to church for her. Learned freaking manners for her. Even sold his home brewery after those bad jokes about taking the recovering alcoholic out for a drink. A month before, he would have sworn he’d sell a kidney first.
Fluorescent lighting immediately began sucking his soul away. He decided to make it quick. The bulletin board in the lobby said that Summit Actuarial Consulting was just down the hall. Just perfect. JFK couldn’t even waste more time looking for the elevator or dragging himself up the stairs.
After taking a deep breath, JFK walked into Summit Actuarial Consulting. If the lobby had been soul-draining, this place was enough to send him into a permanent depressive state. It was times like this as much as it was good days at work that made him thankful for his job.
In a nasally voice, the receptionist asked, “May I help you?”
“Yeah, is Justice McGovern in?”
The middle-aged woman looked over her glasses at JFK’s work clothes and asked, “Do you have an appointment with Mr. McGovern?”
Lying might be the easiest way to get in, unless she called his bluff, then it would just start everything out on the wrong foot. “No.”
“And this would be regarding …?” This woman was a professional eyebrow manipulator and she raised one eyebrow to an impressive height.
JFK felt like he was back in elementary school and the librarian had busted him for making his friend Chance crack up by showing him ‘fart’ in the dictionary. “Tell him … I’ve come to make peace with the Jewells?”
“The jewels?”
“Yes. The Jewells.”
“Hm.” The receptionist’s mouth pinched up. “And who should I say is here to see him.”
“JFK.”
“JFK?” One eyebrow went up.
“Yes. JFK.” He stepped away from the desk and from the fifth degree and tried to ignore the receptionist as she lifted the phone to her ear and cupped the mouthpiece to keep her conversation private. Who knew the hardest part of this day would be making it past a stern gatekeeper? The magazines on the rack in the waiting area were as boring as the rest of the office. Money, Kiplinger’s, and Coin World. There was actually a magazine called The Actuary. JFK would rather have bamboo shoots shoved into his nail beds.
“Mr. McGovern will see you.” The receptionist gave him another disapproving look. “His office is the first on the right.”
“Thank you,” muttered JFK and walked past her desk.
In the main area of the office were half a dozen cubicles surrounded by small offices. At least Justice wasn’t subjected to death by cubicle on a daily basis. Then again, with this alien group, the cubicles were probably sought after real estate.
The door to Justice’s office was ajar. JFK pushed it open to see Justice sitting behind a desk, staring questioningly at the door. He said, “I wondered if it was you. But I couldn’t conceive of any reason you would have to come here.”
You’re not here to fight, JFK reminded himself. But he also wasn’t there to crawl. “I’m uncouth and I don’t know about church things. But knowing your sister and hearing what the priest said—” he purposefully avoided saying pastor even though he knew what it was, “—I think going back might be good for me.” JFK paused before going on with the next part of the rehearsed speech. “I never thought I could change. Mercy has opened my eyes.”
Justice studied him like he would do with a spreadsheet with scrambled numbers.
JFK went on with what he had planned. “I know you don’t believe she’s really changed and you probably don’t even think people can change—”
Justice put a hand up to stop him. In a precise voice, he said, “If I may. I realize I could have been more Christlike in the way I’ve treated Mercy. Even in her steps,” he air-quoted and rolled his eyes ever so slightly, “it says she has to make restitution. I deal in probabilities, and proving that she is trustworthy takes time to establish a preponderance of evidence.”
Yeah, he really just said preponderance of evidence. This guy would be tons of fun at a party. JFK could tell he wasn’t done talking. “There is also the issue of attempting to undo what she’s done and transform that into a good example. My grandparents have 49 offspring. She lied to and about a lot of them. She deceived them all. And she stole money or anything she could sell from people who trusted her, despite their better judgment—people trying to be good Christians and help her out.”
“I don’t want to hear it from you,” said JFK, then realized it sounded harsher than he intended. “I’m not doubting it happened, but those aren’t your secrets to tell. Tell me what she did to you personally if you want, but I didn’t come here to gossip.” That was the absolute gentlest he could be at the moment.
“That’s fair,” said Justice after a moment. “I was a senior in high school and I had scrimped and saved to get myself started in college. She came to me the day before her own tuition was due, in tears, swearing she had sobered up and was a new woman and hadn’t had a drink in months. Had the AA coin to prove it. She painted a sob story that would have made a rock weep, and begged me to lend her one thousand dollars. If she didn’t get it within twenty-four hours she’d be kicked out of school and since she’d already been on academic probation there was no chance she’d get accepted again. Like a dummy, I believed her and gave her a thousand dollars cash.”
Justice was staring at JFK’s eyes, but he was far away and the silence stretched for a while. On some unseen cue, his gaze sharpened, focused in on JFK. “I was naïve and stupid, but she was …,” Justice paused, collecting his thoughts, “…what she did was unforgivable. Or at least I haven’t learned how to let it go yet. Maybe someday.”
JFK considered all that. Justice was allowed to have an opinion. And he did say he’d try to be more like Jesus. That had to be a good thing, right? “So, can she go to your church now?”
“It’s not my church. But I have decided to stop chastising her in public.”
That was probably as good as JFK could hope, especially since he hadn’t even gotten around to asking Justice to do anything.
“What about you and me?” asked Justice.
“I know we don’t like each other, but,” JFK swallowed his pride and got ready to lie for the sake of peace in the Jewell family, “I don’t want there to be hard feelings between us.” Even after agreeing to Clover’s little plan, JFK still hadn’t found it in his heart to forgive Justice.
In a tone devoid of emotion, Justice said, “The one time we met you called me a hypocrite in front of my entire congregation. It’s difficult to put that behind me and act as if it never happened. In fact, based on the data, there is a high likelihood similar incidents will occur in the future since every encounter you and I have shared has resulted in conflict.”
“There’s this encounter,” said JFK spreading his hands. He was still standing in the center of the small office since he hadn’t been offered a chair.
“This encounter still isn’t over.”
JFK resisted the urge to point out that an actuary should be able to take into consideration the small sample size, and instead picked up somewhere in the vicinity of where his speech had stopped. “It was wrong to blow up like that.” Don’t make excuses, don’t say, ‘but’. “I apologize. I can see that you take the roll of older brother to eight siblings very seriously, and of course you have the right to your opinion. And it’s big of you to decide to treat Mercy better.”
Justice gave one small nod in acknowledgement. “And what exactly are your intentions with my sister?”
“Uh-uh,” said JFK. “If she allows me to intend anything with her that’s not between you and me.” At least one thing Dom had taught him stuck—the silly thing about asking a girl’s father if he could marry her before asking the girl herself, because what was this, the 1700s?—but JFK still didn’t see any way a relationship with Mercy would progress to the point where Daddy McGovern would get involved.
“Fair enough,” stated Justice. “If there is nothing else, I need to get back to my analysis of risk of insurance claims due to brawls in churches.”
“Wait,” said JFK. “Was that a joke? Did you just make a joke?”
Justice’s lips clenched in an attempt to hide a smile.
“Good job, bro!” JFK put out a fist and Justice bumped it. “Now, you and I are as good as we’re going to get, but there’s the issue of making nice for the family.”
The hint of a smile disappeared. Justice was all business again. “I’m afraid I’m not following you.”
“I have an idea,” said JFK. “Actually, it’s Clover’s idea.”
“Then there is a likelihood it doesn’t include anything illegal or immoral.”
JFK pointed at him. “I like it. That’s two jokes in one conversation. You need to be careful or people will stop taking you seriously. Now, here’s what we have in mind.”
Ten minutes later, JFK stopped at the front desk on his way out. He knew how Uber worked and he didn’t need any help, but he wanted to have a little more fun. He asked the receptionist, “Excuse me, could you help me out?”
The woman leaned slightly away in a suspicious manner.
“With what do you need assistance?”
“Would you mind calling me an Uber?”
“An Uber?”
“Yes, an Uber.”
The woman turned dismissively toward her computer screen. “I’m afraid I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about. I can’t help you.”
JFK tipped an imaginary hat and with a smile on his face, left the actuarial nerds to their numbers and probabilities. He was still shocked Justice had agreed.
Apparently that little elf Clover knew what she was doing.