COSMOS magazine

Friday, June 27

Still a little weak from the initial effects of the auxosome injection, Jill sat at the picnic table while Alex played with his Gameboy. Hope followed by bitter disappointment would be too terrible to bear, and yet... Her son seemed more alert, less fatigued. Both she and Paul had been a bit under the weather for days with mild flu-like symptoms, but Alex bounced back practically overnight.

It had seemed worth taking the risk to come by their house to pick up some clothes, and she had given in when he begged to visit the back yard "one last time." Hard to believe she'd signed the contract to sell the house. So many memories. Dominating the small backyard was the mimosa tree she and Keith had planted when it was a foot-tall sapling no bigger around than her finger. The Mexican Oregano was a gift from her mother, and Keith had given her the rose bush when Alex was born. The datura was her graduation gift from Carol. She hoped the new owners of the house would love the place as she had. I'll start crying if I think about this too much, she told herself. If she let herself start, she wouldn't be able to stop. With an effort, she directed her thoughts elsewhere, to Preston Bowie's letters. Anxiety replaced mourning.

Should she simply give them back and go on about her life? Did she have a moral duty to expose Bowie and Blick Pharmaceuticals? As a lawyer, she was obligated to maintain the confidentiality of her clients' affairs--unless doing so endangered human life. In this case, Nature Forever was her client. Still, at least she could inform the Nature Forever board of Bowie's relationship to Blick.

Or she could simply return the box to Allen Hoffman as if she hadn't read the letters. Surely the easiest solution, perhaps the safest. Bowie and Blick seemed to be involved in a deadly serious game, probably with millions of dollars at stake. If they came to think Jill was a danger to them, her life could be in danger. She shook her head. Oh, come on. Let's not get carried away with paranoia, she chided herself. Crazy Payback certainly was much more of a threat than a lawyer and the president of a pharmaceutical company.

But she could not shake off the fear.

"Come on kiddo," she told her son. "Time to get our bones back to the apartment."

Alex spent the rest of the morning bouncing off the walls, begging to go outside and play. Jill kept him in, afraid of what could happen. It was a relief to get out again in the afternoon, and Alex was thrilled at the prospect of spending time with Paul at the lab, seemingly unfazed by the terrible thing that had happened last time he was there.

"I'll be okay, Mom," he assured her as they rode the elevator up. "This is probably the safest place around. There are cops everywhere."

Paul was clearly glad to see them, but his face was troubled.

Once Alex was set up feeding the mice, Jill asked, "What's wrong? Worried Payback might get in again?"

Paul shook his head. "He'd have to make himself invisible to get past the extra security guards and video cameras. No, I just heard from Roberta that Drew Chang has been found. He's in Methodist Hospital in Houston, the intensive care unit. Not expected to live, and even if he does, he may have suffered permanent brain damage."

"Oh my God, Paul. What happened?"

"If anyone knows the details, they haven't told me. Looks like someone grabbed him right there out of the MTJ parking lot, and they're looking again at the bombing."

"I feel like no place is safe anymore."

Paul glanced over at Alex, who was standing still, intently studying two of the mice. "Alex and I will be okay here, love. There's no way Payback could get past the extra security."

Hurrying, still nervous about leaving Alex, Jill took Bowie's "Correspondence" folder to Kinko's and made copies of each letter, frequently glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, starting a couple of times when someone walked by a little too close to her. She still had not decided what to do, but knew she must keep proof of what she'd read. On her way back to the lab she used her cell phone to call Keith. She had phoned April from the hospital, and had been wondering rather angrily why Keith hadn't even bothered to call back to ask after his son. They exchanged awkward polite greetings.

"Alex has been better the past few days."

"Oh? I'm glad to hear it." Keith's tone added the unspoken query: And why bother calling me with this fascinating information?

"He's back home from the hospital."

Keith's manner altered sharply. "Hospital? What happened?"

"Well, the seizure. But he's improving."

"Another seizure! If you'd let me know, I'd have sent flowers or something."

April hadn't even told him? This was way beyond the woman's usual bitchiness.

"Keith, I called April. Alex almost died. We were..." She stopped. If she mentioned the gunman Keith would probably accuse her of negligently exposing Alex to danger. "Alex could have died, and you wouldn't have known until... I can't believe April didn't give you the message. Look, Keith, Alex is sick and needs me to be with him. The reason I'm calling is..." She took a deep, shaky breath. "To ask for some child support. Just for a while, until I can find another job."

"You don't work for Allen Hoffman any more?" Irresponsible and unstable, his tone said.

"They fired me for missing work when Alex was sick. As soon as I can arrange nursing care for Alex I'll look for another job." Too apologetic, she thought. If I were doing this on behalf of a client, I'd be much more forceful. "I've sold the house, Keith. I'm just waiting for the closing."

"You've sold the house?"

"I didn't have a whole lot of choice. The mortgage payments were more than I could afford, and the prospects of getting another full time job don't look too bright as long as Alex ... until Alex gets better--"

"Did they figure out what's wrong? What about that MRI I paid $3000 for? Didn't they learn something from that? "

She was angry now. "Oh, nothing much, Keith. Just that Alex is dying of cancer."

"Dying of cancer? Why was I never told?"

"Keith, you told me never to call you at work, and I've lost count of the messages I've left with April and on your answering machine at home. It's not my fault your bloody wife refuses to pass on my messages."

"You should've called my office. Told them it was an emergency."

"I have called your office. Okay? Your secretary said you were in depositions all day and I should try you at home in the evening. Your son has cancer." She spoke with exaggerated clarity. "I enrolled him in the best program of treatment I could find. The treatments didn't work." She paused, waited for Keith to say something; for once, he was speechless. "As a result of the tumour, Alex tires easily, so I couldn't keep him in summer day camp... If I'm to go out and look for work, I'll need a trained caregiver to look after him."

"Jill, my secretary just passed me a note--I have a call on the other line from someone I've been trying to reach all day. Naturally, I'm devastated by the news. Of course I'm willing to help you and Alex. You're still living at Fruth Street right now?"

For a moment Jill hesitated. Well, she could meet him at the Fruth Street house. She certainly didn't want to have to explain to Keith about their flight from Payback.

"Yes."

"I'll come by this evening after work, and we can talk about it."

"Okay. Thanks, Keith."

She entered Paul's number. Alex answered the phone. "Laboratory of Dr. Paul Gibson." From his clear high voice, she never would have guessed he was ill.

"Hi sweetie. How are the mice?"

"They're fine. I'm helping Paul clean out their pens. He can't take the phone right now, because his hands are shitty." He giggled. Jill decided to let it slide.

"Listen, instead of me coming to get you at the lab, maybe Paul could bring you to our old house." She heard Alex relay the request and, in the distance, Paul's cheery, "No worries."

Friday, June 27

"Wow! What kind of car is that?" Alex stared in amazement as Paul opened the door for him. "Is it really a Humvee, like in the movies?"

"Yep. Technically, a military high mobility, multi-wheeled vehicle."

"Did you buy it?"

"Nope! 'Fraid I don't have that much money. My new boss loaned it to me. Said she was afraid my yellow car wouldn't make it back from San Antonio."

Alex said, "Well done, my good man." Paul sent him a startled look, then burst out laughing; Alex added, "You must have a nice boss." He smiled back at Paul.

"Yes, she is. You know what else? She's invited all of us--you, me, and your mom--to spend a weekend at her ranch some time."

"Are there horses at her ranch?" Alex pictured himself galloping over the open range.

"I'm sure there are. A swimming pool too."

"Cool! Hey Paul, let's pretend we're soldiers."

"Okay. Which side are we on, and who are the bad guys?"

"Um, give me a minute to think about it." Paul was fun to be with!

Friday, June 27

A night-blue Mercedes, Paul saw, was parked in the driveway of Jill's house. When the door opened, a tall blonde man in a conservative business suit stood there. Instantly Paul's body went into cortisol alert; he pushed Alex behind him, holding tightly to his hand. An instant later his brain caught up with his instincts. This wasn't Payback and, from Jill's description, it wasn't Preston Bowie either. So who the hell was this character, answering a knock at Jill's front door at this hour of the evening? He forced himself back into calmness.

"Hi! Jill in?"

"I don't think she feels like--" The blonde bloke glanced down at Alex, surprise registering on his face. "Hello son, I'm sorry to hear you've been ill," he said stiffly. Putting a hand on Alex's shoulder, he guided the boy into the house while blocking Paul's entry.

"Who is it, Keith?" Jill's voice came from somewhere in the house.

"Please tell her it's Paul." Keith, eh? The estranged husband. No, not estranged--divorced. Long gone. Remarried. Then what was he doing here now? Come to visit his son? Not before time. Relaxing, Paul moved closer to the door.

"Paul who?" Keith didn't seem willing to give an inch.

Footsteps sounded on the wood floor; Jill, eyes puffy and red, peered from behind Keith's shoulder. "Oh, Paul! Come in. Where's--"

"Hi, Mom! Paul brought me home in the coolest car. It's a Humvee." Alex hugged his mother, and she kissed his upturned cheek.

The ex-husband continued to stand firm in Paul's path. For a moment the two regarded each other silently. Good looking enough, Paul thought, in a remote, faded photograph way. Can't imagine him and Jill together.

Finally Keith moved away, turning his back. "If you were planning to entertain a... guest... perhaps I should come back another time to finish our discussion."

Ignoring this, Jill said firmly, "Keith, I'd like for you to meet Paul Gibson. Paul, this is Keith Hindle, Alex's dad." They shook hands uncomfortably. "Keith, I think we've probably discussed all there is to discuss. The only thing left to do is for you to say yes or no."

"I've already told you yes. I'll be happy to help you and Alex. But if I'm going to be helping, I'd like to have some say in how you're raising him. April is a stay-at-home mom, you know. Alex should spend more time at our house. And you should be out looking for a job."

Jill's jaw visibly went rigid, but she merely nodded. "I've been sending out resumés, and I'd be delighted for you to spend more time with Alex."

"Good." Sitting down in one of the red leather chairs, Keith made a big production of taking out his check book, making out a check, rising to hand it over.

"Thank you, Keith. I appreciate it." She held the door open. The fellow shot a hostile glance at Paul then turned to Jill. "I'll have April call you tomorrow to arrange a time to pick up the boy." He left without another word.

Leaning against the closed door, Jill looked pale and tired. "In between visits I forget how difficult he can be to deal with."

"Never mind," Paul said. "I have news. I've got a neurologist pal at the Institute, Betsy O'Reilly."

"Ah," she said wanly, "now it comes out--"

Paul grinned. "Betsy's motherly, you have no worries on that count."

"Hey! I'm a mother, you know!"

"Yes, but not a motherly mother. I mean--" He cleared his throat and gave her a desperate, theatrical look, making her smile. "I told Betsy about the auxosome treatments. Obviously I swore her to secrecy, but we absolutely need to get checked out by an expert. Appointments for tomorrow. Hey, you look exhausted." He put an arm around Jill's waist. "How's about I take you and Alex out to dinner?"

"Now that you mention it, I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. I'm starving. But I should probably get Alex home to bed."

"Tell you what. You take Alex home and get him settled. I'll stop en route for some takeout. Give the local kids a thrill when they see the Humvee roar up."

She gently pulled his head toward her and kissed his lips. "Takeout would be great."

"What would you like?"

"Surprise me."