The Fall (Colorado Coyotes #6)

Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Cam

As the one who brewed the fresh midmorning pot of coffee at the downtown Denver law office where I work, I’m entitled to pour the first cup. But when Tom Caldera, one of the associate attorneys, walks into the employee break room, I immediately grab a mug and fill it to the brim before passing it to him.

“Bless you,” he murmurs as he takes a sip.

“How’s it going?”

“Oh. I figured the dark circles under my eyes said it all.”

The sagging, dark purple bags beneath his eyes really do tell a story. And it’s a story I know well. Tom and his wife Jeannie have five-week-old triplets, two boys and one girl. Newborn multiples consume every bit of a parent’s time and energy, and Tom was only able to get two weeks off when they were born.

“I take it sleep training isn’t going any better?”

He sighs heavily. “Sleep training is a myth. I did get three hours of sleep last night, but Jeannie got maybe one hour. So tonight’s my night to let her sleep. Really looking forward to experiencing total delirium sometime soon.”

“If you don’t mind me bringing my boys with me, I could come over for a few hours this weekend and take care of them so you guys can get a good nap in.”

“I appreciate it, but Jeannie is basically nursing around the clock. She’ll have to be pumping or nursing literally all day today so I can feed the babies while she gets a block of sleep tonight.”

I finish pouring my own mug of coffee and then give him a sympathetic smile. “I’m telling you, two months. It gets better when they turn two months old. Just hang in there and survive.”

“Thanks.”

He’s gulping down the scalding hot coffee as I leave the break room to go back to my office. I’m in my fourth month as a paralegal at McGill, Harcourt and Weiss, and I love it. The firm mostly handles employment law cases, and I enjoy the research and writing work I get to do.

“Cam, there you are.”

Kathy Weiss is a partner at the firm, and so far, most of the work I’ve done has been for her. She’s in her mid-forties and is a married mom of three. It’s life-changing to work for someone who understands what it means to be a working mom. When I was a waitress, bartender and part-time student, I couldn’t have kept my jobs without Tess helping me with the boys. When my kids were sick, my bosses would tell me I could either show up for work on time or never show up again.

“Pete Sanderson just renewed their contract with us,” Kathy says, beaming. “We did it.”

I breathe out a sigh of relief as I set my cup of coffee on my desk. “That’s amazing. I was just thinking about the last brief I wrote for their copyright infringement case when I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep last night.”

She chuckles. “That would put a lot of people to sleep immediately.”

“I know, I’m a weirdo.”

“We’re both weirdos then because we didn’t just get a renewal; we got a three-year renewal. Pete stipulated in the contract that you and I need to be the leads on all their work.”

I gape at her, stunned. “Me? I didn’t think he even knew my name.”

“Are you kidding? Everyone at Sundrift knows you and loves you.” She glances at her cell phone screen. “Anyway, I have to run, but wanted to give you the good news and tell you there’ll be a well-deserved bonus in your next check.” She turns to go but then stops, looking back at me. “Will you be able to finish the Wingate response by end of day?”

“Already done. It’s in your inbox.”

“What did I do before you worked here?” She shakes her head. “Oh, that’s right, I cried in my office a lot and told Hunter to have a martini waiting for me when I got home every night.”

I laugh as she leaves the room, too excited to sit down once I’m all alone.

My first bonus. I was told during my interview that the firm offers annual performance bonuses and that the partners also award bonuses throughout the year. When Kathy told me two months ago that Pete, the owner of a tech company that’s growing quickly, had given notice to the firm that he was ending his contract with us, she looked almost sick.

An associate attorney she’d assigned some Sundrift work to had done a terrible job, and Kathy admitted that she’d dropped the ball by not checking his work. It created problems for Sundrift, which is why Pete didn’t want to renew with the firm. Kathy asked him to allow her to try to retain his business.

Kathy and I spent every working hour for nearly three weeks digging into case law for a copyright infringement case against Sundrift, and last week, she got a ruling overturned that we knew was an uphill battle.

I had no idea how much this job would affect my self-worth. After ten-plus years of busting my butt, washing dishes, pouring drinks and waiting on people, of course I realized putting on pretty clothes and working in an office would make me happier. I also knew after struggling to keep food on the table that earning enough money to provide for my sons and take them on the occasional vacation would improve how I felt about myself, but it’s ended up being so much more than that.

I’m good at this work. Really good at it. I come through for my bosses and coworkers. I’m part of a team that kicks ass and takes names in employment and intellectual property law.

My office only has one small window, but it overlooks a pretty little park. I watch a woman bundled in a puffy coat pushing a stroller with a bundled-up toddler through the park, still smiling.

This bonus will mean I can build my savings account. Maybe start planning a trip for the boys and me to Disney World. It’s a dream come true.

When I finally calm down enough to sit back down, I text Tess to tell her the good news.

Me: Guess who will be getting her first bonus on my next paycheck???

Tess: Girl! I’m so damn proud of you! Congrats!

Me: Thanks!

I set my phone face down on my desk, take another sip of my coffee and put my reading glasses on. The twenty-eight-page contract I have to review will bring my heart rate back down to normal.

Forcing away the anticipation on my boys’ faces when they see the castle at Disney World for the first time, I dive into reading it.

“Did you know there’s a hole in our ozone layer?” Sam asks me that evening over dinner.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? We need to help fix it.”

I put my hand over Sam’s much smaller one and give it a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to worry about it, honey. I think the hole is actually getting better.”

“It is, but still...”

He’s my sweet, thoughtful son and also my worrier. The yin to wild man Tate’s yang.

“Can I have a hot dog instead of this?” Tate asks mournfully. “It tastes like puke.”

He pushes his tuna noodle casserole around on his plate with his fork, spreading it out so it’ll look like he ate more of it.

“Okay, that’s not an appropriate comment about dinner, and no. You need to eat at least half of it.”

He groans and covers his face with his hands. Tate would survive entirely on hot dogs if I let him.

“Do you know what hot dogs are made of?” Sam asks, his brow furrowed.

I shake my head. “We aren’t talking about that. Or the ozone layer. Who has homework tonight?”

“I don’t,” Sam says.

“I already did mine,” Tate says. “It was math.”

“Okay, I want to check it over after dinner.”

He tends to only complete the first side of two-sided papers, and he never checks his work. Sam is meticulous. His teachers tell me he helps other kids finish their homework in class because he’s always the first one finished.

“Sam has to write an essay,” Tate says smugly.

“No, I don’t,” Sam fires back. “I’m not doing it.”

I tilt my head in a skeptical look because that’s not like Sam at all. “If it’s a school assignment, you most definitely are doing it.”

“It’s for Cub Scouts and I don’t have to do it.”

Sam glares at Tate, who’s wearing a gloating expression. I’m still confused, though, because Sam never misses an opportunity to get a scouting badge.

I set my fork down. “Let’s back up. You went to your Cub Scout meeting after school today. Is that where you heard about the essay?”

“I don’t have to do it.” Sam’s tone is confrontational, which is unlike him.

Tate jumps in. “The essay is so you can go on a father-son campout. That’s why he doesn’t want to do it.”

“Shut up.” Sam’s face reddens with anger.

My heart breaks. The boys’ dad and I split when they were one year old because he decided being a full-time husband and dad wasn’t for him. He sporadically sends child support and usually sends them cards for their birthday, but he hasn’t seen them in more than a year.

“Is it something I could do with you?” I ask Sam.

He refuses to meet my gaze. “I don’t want to do it.”

I try my best to be everything to them, but I can’t be a dad. It hurts my heart to see the way they cling to male coaches and teachers. They both think Dom is the greatest thing ever, and I know they miss him now that we don’t live at his house anymore.

“I’m sure Dom would go with you,” I offer. “As long as it doesn’t overlap with his hockey schedule.”

Sam picks up his plate and gets up from the table. He dumps the rest of his food into the trash and walks past us to go to his room. The tears in his eyes make me want to cry myself.

“Can I be done?” Tate asks.

I glance at his plate, which has food spread all the way to the edges, and sigh. I’m too tired to fight him.

“Fine. But no snacks tonight.”

He leaps up from the table and dumps his plate, then plops onto the couch in the living room and turns on the TV.

I don’t know if I should talk to Dom about the campout or not. I should probably wait until I talk to Sam about it when he’s not so upset.

During dinner cleanup, I rage internally against Zach, my ex-husband. Our sons deserve a dad who spends time with them. It’s one of the reasons I vowed to be more careful about letting men into our lives. Not only is my ex-husband a deadbeat, but I also briefly dated Jake, who ended up stalking me and scaring the shit out of me, my boys, Tess and her children.

I can’t control Zach, but I can make damn sure any man I go out with in the future knows he has a high bar to clear.