Page 70 of Pro Bono

“You’ve been fine.”

“Thank you.” She looked out on the back lawn, which was now shaded by trees that were ten years older and much bigger than they were when she had moved out. “I guess I will move in, at least for the fall and winter.”

“Good,” he said. “It will be nice to see you more often.”

Within a week she was settled again in Los Angeles and appeared to be occupied with friends most days and following routines of her own. Charlie had shifted his efforts back to operating his law firm’s core business of estate planning, divorces, and civil suits. At the end of each week, he drove back to his condominium to pick up his mail from the locked mailbox and to check on the place. His refrigerator had nothing in it but drinks and mixers. The cupboards held a lot of condiments, spices, and canned staples. When he was satisfied, he went back out to his car and drove the rest of the way to Vesper Ellis’s house.

One evening they were lying on the bed upstairs in Vesper’s master suite, staring up at the ceiling, only the edges of their little fingers touching. He said, “So where do you think this is going?”

He expected her to say, “Where is what going?” but she didn’t buy herself time to think, so he knew she had already thought. She said, “Life has taught me not to make assumptions about the future or make demands on it. Right now, I’m allowing myself to feel how great it is to be with you doing what I’m doing. I thought about relationships sometimes when I believed that was over for me—I learned more.”

“Like what?”

“I was married for a pretty long time, and I knew that he would love it if I was wilder, freer, but I never tried. I would think, ‘That isn’t me,’ or ‘he’ll think I’m stupid’ or ‘a woman shouldn’t have to do that.’ After he was gone, I wished I had been different, thrown myself into the relationship more. It could have been so much better. I promised myself that if I ever had another chance, I wouldn’t live my life as though I was just a passenger. I would be shameless.” She moved her hand. “I like to think that I am.”

He laughed. “What about the future?”

“I don’t want to talk about that. Right now, I’m feeling better than I remember ever feeling. I’m having fun. I don’t expect it to last forever, or stay the same, or stay at all. I just told you I had learned not to demand that the future come up with some result.”

“There’s nothing wrong with talking about the way you want things to go.”

“Okay. Where I want it to go right now is for you to put your hand on my waist and pull me over on top of you. The next part of the future will take care of itself.”

28

Maureen Abbot looked through her oversize sunglasses across the giant swimming pool at the two women walking out from under the veranda roof of the main clubhouse carrying tall glasses with umbrellas in them. She stood up and waved, and both their sets of sunglasses turned toward her. Their steps took on momentum and purpose. They were making their way to the row of lounge chairs where Maureen and her old friend were taking refuge from the sun under a big umbrella.

Maureen stood when they arrived and said, “Hi, girls. Linda Warren, this is Mary and this is Wendy. Linda’s an old friend, just moved back here from Maui.”

Linda stood too and shook their hands. All the women smiled and said set formulas with “pleased,” “pleasure,” “nice,” in them, and the two new women moved one long chair closer and sat.

Linda decided they were probably actresses who no longer worked, but had married men who didn’t require much of their time. They appeared to both be in their late thirties or early forties, had enviable figures and pretty faces, and were expertly made-up, but they were inches too short to be models.

Wendy and Mary were immediately interested in Linda, wanted to hear about the tragedy at Lahaina, then about her life, friends, and family, her impressions of the places where she had lived. They told her things about themselves too, and gave the impression that they were pleasant companions who were always interested in social events or excursions. After about an hour Wendy and Mary said they had to move on. They had to catch a plane to Las Vegas because they had dinner reservations and tickets to a concert afterward.

When the two women left in a Mercedes, they drove for about a mile before they reverted to being May and Rose, née Rickenger. While Rose drove, May watched the street behind them to be sure that none of the cars back there were ones she had seen in the lot at the club, or anywhere. They had to be sure that nobody who knew them as Wendy and Mary would see them doing anything inconsistent with Mary and Wendy. Mary and Wendy had said they were going to be heading for the airport because Rose and May were going to catch flights home.

“What do you think of her?” Rose said.

“It’s too early to tell,” May said. “She’s got some money, and I remember that when Dan died, the newspapers said he was traveling really fast, like he was in a big hurry.”

“Meaning he believed he was on the verge of getting arrested,” Rose said.

“Probably,” May said. “The point is, when you have to make that quick an exit, it’s almost impossible you’ve got everything. He may have left some of her money.”

“He wasn’t stupid enough to risk getting stopped for a speeding ticket for no reason, so you’re probably right.” Rose paused. “You don’t think she’s already been given the money from the banks, do you?”

“It’s only been a couple months since the state sent the first letter. And say she did get a pile of money. It wouldn’t retroactively change the wayshe lived. She’s been drifting for, like, ten years, and most people can’t do that. You also have to remember that he wouldn’t have been with her at all if she didn’t have anything to steal.”

“Do you think there’s a way to get what he had and hers too?”

May chuckled. “Remember what Mother always said when it was time to pack the car. ‘It’s the piggy who stays too long at the trough who gets butchered.’ I think what the states are holding is likely to be plenty. It would be everything he had in any bank anywhere in the country, not just what he took from her. Getting that and then sticking around to pull a second scam would be pushing our luck.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Rose said.

“I know I am,” May said. She knew that Rose was certain to be thinking about how to pull the second scam by herself, because that was what she had been thinking about too.

“I’m tired, but I’d better get back tonight, or Dale will be pestering the women in his Chicago office. Do you think the next time should be in a week or two?”

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