COSMOS magazine

Monday, June 2

If she could make it into her office without seeing anyone, she'd grab a few minutes reviewing the files before she handed the work off to Art. Through the small staff kitchen's open door, a nasal voice slashed at her. "Hey, Jill, not even a 'Good morning'?"

Ambushed. "Sorry, Becca. Didn't mean to be rude." The managing partner's secretary was sitting at the table, an open copy of Danielle Steele's The Promise face down next to an empty carton of pineapple yoghurt with a spoon in it.

"Art wants to talk to you soon as you come in." Becca jerked her head toward the front offices. Silver earrings jingled, but her well-sprayed helmet of black hair remained locked in place.

"Let me just put my things away, and—" Jill edged away.

"Do you have the Reese Biotech files?"

"Yes. I took them home to work on them."

"Art wants me to get them from you." Becca smiled pleasantly, which did not bode well for Jill.

Jill shrugged, too tired to ask questions, set her briefcase on the carpeted floor beside Becca. "The files are in here."

Her head ached. She'd only gotten four hours sleep, after talking for two hours to Paul about cancer treatments, then staying up late to organize the files for Reese Biotech L.P. v. Blick Pharmaceuticals, Inc. She forced herself not to think about Paul. He was friendly enough, and gave her new hope for Alex, but there'd been no slightest indication that he'd ever see her as anything other than a pal. She felt a sudden craving for chocolate chip cookies.

The eastern wall of Arthur Sutton's office was almost entirely windows. Standing in front of Art's massive mahogany desk, Jill squinted against the glaring sunlight.

"Sit down, Jill," he said, without smiling. "How is your son?"

"Alex gets tired easily. I may have to take him out of school." The chair was so low Jill's head barely cleared the top of the desk. "We don't know yet how well the chemotherapy is working. I'm taking him in for a checkup next week."

"Good." He nodded, shuffled some papers and cleared his throat. "We, ah, think it's important to have a life outside of work, and we've always been generous with granting family leave to our staff." He looked down at Jill, pinching his lips together.

"Yes, you have." Jill suddenly remembered what it felt like to bring home a report card not good enough to please her mother. Now she had the same tightness in her chest, the same roiling stomach.

"We understand that you want the best medical care for your son, and it would be fine for you to miss a day or two of work now and then if you were a student law clerk. But it's just not acceptable to reschedule depositions and mediation sessions, as Becca tells me you've done."

"Art, I asked to reschedule one deposition from 10:00 in the morning to 2:00 in the afternoon. In any event, I shouldn't have to take much time off from now on. I can take Alex for his appointments on weekends."

Art looked doubtful. "You're a good lawyer, Jill. We all like you, and we're willing to be flexible within reason. We'll see how it goes over the next few weeks." He carefully wrote in the open file that lay on his desk. Jill found it difficult to take in what she was hearing. At a seminar she had attended the previous year one of the speakers had discussed the procedures to be used when firing employees. Progressive discipline. Warnings, all written down in the file.

Art looked up, told her, "There's something that could be even more serious. You're aware, of course, that BlickPharm is being sued by Reese Biotech for patent infringement."

"Of course. I was organizing the files last night for the depositions this afternoon."

"Are you aware that the oncologist who has been treating your son, Dr. Arecchi, is on the Board of Directors of the corporate general partner of Reese Biotech?"

What? "No, I wasn't."

"Well, now you are. Technically there may not be a conflict of interest." He shrugged his eyebrows. "I'm sure you can imagine how it would look if word got out that one of BlickPharm's professionals was using the services of someone associated with the opponent."

She was dumbfounded by the blatancy of it. "No, really I can't, Art. It's not as though Dr. Arecchi is a party to the lawsuit."

"Look, Jill. I'd love to spend the morning arguing the fine points of legal ethics with you, but unfortunately I have previous engagements. Mr. Blick wants you off the case. It's that simple."

She'd heard rumours that Bruce Blick had snoops and spies checking up on anything he considered his business. Until now she had never quite believed it. BlickPharm were the good guys. Yet how else could they know which doctors were treating Alex?

"I'm sorry, Art but I didn't think—"

He raised his voice very slightly. "Thank you, Ms. Shannon. We'll see how things work out. Getting rid of the Reese case should help you get caught up with everything else. If you're able to keep up with a normal workload for the next couple of months, I'll feel comfortable going back to business as usual. But we are not a charitable organization. As was explained to you in your first interview, we have no choice but to require a minimum number of billable hours from our professional staff. We'd be in bankruptcy if we didn't. Ms. Shannon, as much as I wish it were otherwise, if you cannot meet our standards, I'm afraid we're going to have to let you go."

"Oh." Jill was too dazed to argue.

"By the way," he went on, as though unaware that he had just snatched the rug from beneath Jill's feet, "since you won't have to worry about the Reese case anymore, I've volunteered you to help Preston Bowie with a class action suit he's putting together. You can even do some of the work on Allen Hoffman time. That should bring you up to forty hours per week."

How generous, she thought bitterly. Preston would load her down with enough work for two people and expect her to get it done on her own time. She took a breath, opened her mouth to protest, but Art Sutton was looking at his watch.

"That's all." He removed his eyeglasses and stood up, extending his right hand. "I do wish you the best of luck, Jill. You and your son."

Saturday, June 7

A car pulled up to the curb as Jill was weeding her small herb garden.

Alex, dozing in the hammock, suddenly came to life. "Mom, look! It's Paul!"

Peering out the window of his dented yellow Nissan, Paul was grinning as if he or the car were some huge joke. Jill felt a rush of gladness. He called, "Hey, guys, feel like going for a ride? I'd like to show you something."

"I..." Jill looked down in dismay at her baggy jeans and stained yellow tee shirt. "I need to change my clothes."

"Not at all. What you have on now is perfect."

"Me too? Can I go too?" Alex surprised Jill by running across the yard. She hadn't seen him display this much energy in a long time.

"Absolutely you too."

"How do you like my cap?" Alex struck a proud pose.

Paul walked behind Alex so he could see the front of the cap. "Texas Longhorns. Showing the old school spirit, eh?"

"I have to wear it since my hair fell out. To keep from getting a sunburned head."

"Looks good on you." Paul leaned over, opened the passenger door. 'You don't mind sitting in the back, do you, buddy?"

"Nah. I can lie down and rest."

"How you going?" he asked as Jill settled into the passenger seat.

"Not wonderful, actually," she said. "My managing partner gave me a hard time about taking Alex to Dr. Arecchi."

"Huh? How's that any concern of theirs?"

"Dr. Arechhi's on the Board of Directors of a company that's on our largest client's shit list. One of their products is giving our client a run for its money." She shook her head wearily. "So now I'm on the client's shit list as well. I think the firm's looking for an excuse to get rid of me. They've also assigned me to do a bunch of pro bono work for Preston Bowie."

"Hey, I saw him on television. A major Green advocate, right?"

"Yep, and one of the world's biggest assholes. It would be awfully convenient for them if I quit. That way I wouldn't be able to apply for unemployment comp."

"Damn!"

"Oh well." Enough of this gloom and doom, Jill, she told herself. "So how's your research going?"

"More fascinating every day. Keep this to yourself, Jill, but it looks as though we're onto something that can..." He broke off, took a deep breath, gave her a dazzling, wildly excited grin. "Well, um, let me put this as modestly as I can. Something that should be able to tune up an ordinary human into a genius. But wait, there's more. Along with the extra set of steak knives, we'll throw in a life span of a hundred and fifty years or more."

He was joking of course. Hard to tell. Australians were weird.

"Smart mice, and now a century and a half life span?"

"This is the most amazing part yet. In fact, I'm not sure I should tell you—you'll think I'm nuts."

"No, come on, Paul. I promise not to call the men in white."

Apparently he was regretting his manic outburst. "You really should come by the lab sometime and see for yourself. I'll bet Alex would get a kick out of seeing the mice."

Jill turned to the back seat, but Alex was lying down, asleep.

Saturday, June 7

Paul parked at the top of the hill, just in case. The old car was getting more crotchety by the day. The rocky land sloping down to the creek was brilliant with yellow wild flowers after recent rain.

Jill looked down toward the creek, smiling radiantly. "It's lovely," she said. He realized, with a shock, that her illuminated face was beautiful, somehow more deeply affecting because of its imperfection.

"Alex?" He watched her reach into the back seat and gently touch the top of her boy's head. "We're here. Do you feel like going for a walk?"

"Sure." The boy sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Let's go then," said Paul. "I want to show you something wonderful down in the creek bed. This way."

Alex stumbled once or twice. Paul squatted down. "I've been told I make a pretty good horse. Grab hold around my neck and let's see how it goes."

"Hey, good view from up here!" Alex said happily.

They walked the rest of the way to the creek mostly in silence. Paul pointed out plants that had been used as food or medicine by the hunter-gatherers who had lived in the area over five hundred years ago. They rounded a curve of the creek bed, saw the paintings on the rock.

"Wow!" Alex whispered.

"How remarkable! I had no idea there were paintings like this in Texas!" Jill's amazed reaction was all Paul could have hoped for.

---

Paul turned the ignition key. Nothing happened.

"Watch this." He pushed in the clutch. "No engine, Ma." The car began to roll down the hill, picked up speed. He released the clutch. With a shudder, the engine caught.

"Good thing you knew what to do." Jill laughed in rueful admiration. "Long walk to the nearest bus station."

That's why I like being with her, Paul realized. She's interested in the world around her, and she's a good sport. She's just... fun to be with. And so's the kid. God, he thought, it's so damned unfair. In three or four years we'll finally have some meaningful cancer treatments through phase three trials. It's going to hurt like hell, watching that kid die, knowing we're on the very edge of a cure, not being able to do a damned thing about it. Or worse: being able to, but not being allowed to...