Fourteen days earlier.

There was something about turning thirty that could make a woman depressed. It was like a reminder that she should be where she had dreamed of when she was in grade school; like be married, have kids, a lovely house with a vegetable garden or a picket fence and a wonderful job that gives her time to pick up her kids from school.

Jody Allen had none of the above.

Granted, she had emphatically wanted all of that – and then some, but life had its own plans, as did she. Going to law school had been a struggle because it had cost an arm and a leg and her mother had only two of those, but Jody had been determined to be a lawyer. Not that she had some undying passion for it or something, it was just that being black in the society she lived in was so tough that she so wanted to prove that she could do it, that she could be a lawyer and earn good pay and live happily ever after without having to grovel on the knees to beg for food. Besides, she felt that the justice system was especially unfair to colored people so, she wanted to be a part of that system so as to be able to balance the scale in any little way that she could.

Well, that was when she had been twenty-four. Now, she was twenty-nine – thirty tomorrow, and she hadn't fulfilled half of what she had set to do, despite the fact that she had graduated cum laude from law school. But, she was somewhere and it was something to be thankful for; at least she had half bread – most of her peers didn't have dough to make bread, or even an oven.

A spluttering sound emanated from below her.

"Darn it," She cursed softly as her convertible spluttered and came to a halt. She hit the gear and turned the key in the ignition, and all her dear old grey tortoise car did was to splutter and die.

Great. It had to happen to her today of all days.

Her boss at Bethel and Co. law firm had called her home telephone very early this morning to tell her that he needed her in his office by 8am. That was a huge thing for her because Mr. Jones talks to her once in a blue moon. The truth was that he had never even spoken more than two words to her in a row, not to talk of calling her. The first time he had spoken to her was when he had very reluctantly gritted out the words 'you're hired' after checking and investigating if her grades in law school had indeed been real, and the last time they had spoken was, well, the first time. Oh well.

So one can imagine why Jody felt like an asteroid was heading for earth. She was very worried about his spur-of-the-moment call. Was he going to fire her? Had she done something wrong? Ever since she was hired as a criminal lawyer three years ago, she'd been given menial jobs like – you won't believe it – fetching coffee for her superiors who were unfairly all whites and all males. If she got lucky she could be assigned the case of a kid who shoplifted CDs from a store, or that of a man who was too frightened to sleep with his wife and had to drug her to do the deed – if she got lucky. She sighed. She was the only female and the only black lawyer in Bethel and they made sure she was trampled on to show her that the place of women was in the kitchen or with the mop and broom. Just how unfair is life?

She depressed the handle that would open the door to the car but it refused to give way until she elbowed it. The door creaked in protest. She really needed a new car, she thought, as she stepped out, probably one with an automatic door. This was the one she'd been able to afford off of her pay and now, it really needed to be changed. She walked around the car and opened the hood, hoping with all her might that her car wouldn't be towed by towing cops. She gaped at the various twists and turns of metallic engines, at loss on what to do. Was it the carburetor? Does she need to pour water? Or should she just kick the tires and see if it would magically start rolling? She glanced at her wrist watch and groaned. 7:15 – nope, make that 7:16.

Jody let out another huge and frustrated groan as she heard the unmistakable sound of the wail of a siren. Her car had died in front of a pawn shop, no doubt the owner had called the cops. Jody could just imagine the 911 call in her head:

"911 whats your emergency?"

"There's a black woman who parked her vehicle right in front of my shop, she's acting frustrated and all but I'm sure that's just an act, next thing she'll attack me with a gun and steal all my valuables, help!"

The day was going just great.

~

"You are late."

He plopped down on a chair and unfastened his jacket button. "Sorry."

"You do not sound sorry, Regan."

Regan heaved an irritated and impatient sigh. "I'm sorry your majesty." He even added a mock bow for his grandfather who was also his superior at work. "I had to see to it that Blaire got to school."

Major Martins Walberg stood from his perfectly ordered desk and paced his office. "That is what your sister and your mother are there for. Or is it just a feeble excuse to avoid seeing me?"

Regans brows furrowed and his lips thinned in anger. "I was late. Now I'm here. Tell me what you want to tell me."

Martins hit his cane that he never went without angrily on the wooden floor, his grey eyes flashing. "I forbid you to speak to me that way, might I remind you who I am?"

Regan laughed scornfully. "No you don't. I know you're the president of the fucking earth."

He then raised his hand in surrender as his grandfather turned red in rage. If he hated anything in his life, it was using swear words and curses. Martins Walberg took respect to the next level. Too bad his two grandchildren didn't give a hoot about his rules and morals.

"Relax, I know who you are. And it's not all these fucking – fudging – titles and shit, sorry and stuff, it's just one thing that you are: my grandfather. End of story."

Martins relaxed visibly, leaning on his cane. He even threw in a smile for good measure. "And you are my boy. My grandson. But that does not mean I cannot turn you over in my laps and give you a nice spanking every now and then."

Regan decided not to bother his mind with picturing his 80-something-year-old grandfather upturning him on his laps. "Why did you want to see me?"

"Two things," Martins said returning to his seat and Regan could not help but wonder how his grandfather managed to look neat and wrinkle free every single day. He was a general back in the day so he always wore his attire, looking clear cut and official, whereas Regan could not leave his tie in place for more than six hours; therefore for functions that required him to have a tie on for more than he could bear, he went without, or didn't attend at all.

He was just the total opposite of his grandfather. As opposite as oil and vinegar. While Martins ironed his clothes, Regan usually pull them straight out of the dryer and put them on. His mother had had to hire a drycleaner to save his life. While Martins was careful and painstakingly orderly, Regan was chaotic. In fact, he'd left his apartment in complete shambles that if Martins steps in there, he would die of heart attack. It wasn't his fault though, his housekeeper just hadn't visited in a while. Another thing about his grandfather was that he never smoke or drank, so while Regan's breath always reeked of booze, his grandfathers reeked of his fucking toothpaste. Who does that?

"First, is about your wife."

"Ex-wife." He corrected. "And I don't want to talk about her."

"Divorce is a sin!" Martins said vehemently.

"But your son got one, didn't he?"

Martins blew out a breath and relaxed in his chair. "How can you be blind when the path to sight is right in front of you?"

Regan had to tell himself to be patient. "Care to use 19th century terms? Wait, oh, I think I got this, his divorce is not a sin because he left her to be a priest?"

Martins gave a disapproving grunt. "How do you make a noble cause sound un-noble? Your father left his wife to follow the Lord, tell me, is there any such thing noble more than that?"

"No, of course not. I wouldn't dream of anything more noble." He stood. He didn't want to pursue the topic in question.

"Sit down Regan."

"No thank you, I'll rather stand, better still, I'll leave."

"We are not done with our conversation."

He reluctantly sat.

"You need to ask her to move in back with you, try to work things out. She cannot keep on staying at her fathers. For the sake of the child, Regan –"

He stood, his eyes angry. "I'm getting the divorce because of my son, grandfather. I am not happy in the marriage, and neither is she. How long are we going to keep up appearances? Fake smiles and forced conversations? Sometimes I wake up in the night and find her awake, crying or brooding."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Certainly not mine!" He shouted, then lowered his voice. "You know what I think? I think she's in love with someone else, and it would be better if I let her go, that way she will find happiness."

"You will do no such thing!" Martins said hitting his cane. "I forbid it."

"Well it's my life, and I will do what I want with it. I'm a grown man."

"A grown man?" He harrumphed. "You cannot even shave your beard like a proper man should."

Regan was not in the mood to argue the reason he wanted to sport a beard with his grandfather, the worst person one could argue with. He didn't just feel like shaving. End of story.

"You know what? I'll talk to her." All he wanted right now was to end the conversation. It was giving him a migraine.

"And you will tell her to move in."

Regan gave Martins a look of disbelief. Was his grandfather even real? Barking commands at him? Maybe he was delusional and thought he was still a general and was in the barracks giving soldiers commands, but this was not the goddamned war, this was his life, which was more serious.

"All I can promise is to talk to her and well see how it goes. Now, what's the other thing you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Oh, that." He grew serious. "Sit down."

"I'm alright, thanks."

"I want to talk to you as your boss. Please."

Regan couldn't believe his ears. Martins was actually saying the six magic letters. At least he didn't say something eerie like 'I beseech thee' and shit like that. He sat.

"I'm listening."

He leaned in, his grey eyes which were almost the same color as his hair and brows, bright and intense.

"I have a very important assignment for you."

~

Thank you for reading, please leave a vote, add this to your library and your reading lists and please help share to your friends. Thank you.