Page 23 of Blood in the Water
“Nolan, hello. Are you driving?” Her disembodied voice echoed through the car. He could almost see her sitting in the parlor in the house on Beacon Hill, her trouser-clad legs tucked up under her body, a highball in her hand, Harrison somewhere in the big house, doing whatever it was that Harrison did now that he was no longer a sitting U.S. Senator.
“Just pulled up for a meeting actually,” he said.
“Is this a bad time?” she asked.
“I have a few minutes,” he said.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Busy. How about you?”
“It’s curious to hear you describe yourself as busy,” she said, ignoring his question.
He chuckled. “How so?”
“I ran into Peter Holt at the Children’s Hospital benefit last night. He said you’d left the firm.”
“I didn’t leave,” he said. “I’m taking a leave of absence.”
He heard the clink of ice against crystal. “Why on earth would you do such a thing? You know it’s going to put you behind on the partner track.”
He fought against the sigh fighting to escape his throat. He shouldn’t have answered the phone. “I’m not worried about the partner track.”
“It’s not something you can take for granted, regardless of your father’s reputation and that of Harrison’s,” she said.
He clenched and unclenched his fists, if only to give him something else to focus on besides the anger swimming its way up his chest. “What makes you think I’m taking it for granted? Maybe I’m just not interested in making partner.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “Unless you plan to run for office — in which case, you should speak to Harrison — partner is the point of it all, isn’t it?”
“The point?”
“Of law school, of all the hours you put in at Glassman before your leave of absence.”
He heard the disdain in her voice when she said the last three words, like leave of absence was in air quotes.
“I’m not sure I know what the point was. I’m trying to figure that out now.” He hadn’t realized it was true until he said it. He hadn’t really been happy at Glassman and Weld, had he? And wasn’t it true that his unhappiness had had to do with more than Bridget and the fact that she’d left him so suddenly? That he’d had little interest in the work he’d been doing? That sitting under fluorescent lights for twelve to fourteen hours a day and reading case briefs until the words swam in front of his eyes and then trying to numb his dissatisfaction with booze and women hadn’t been cutting it?
“What is this about, Nolan?”
His mother’s voice had a hard edge that still cut through his adult bravado. It made him feel eight years old again, the way he’d felt when he’d believed his mother had eyes in the back of her head. How else to explain the fact that she seemed to know everything?
“It’s about being happy,” he said.
“Oh, Nolan…” She laughed a little. “Happiness is an indulgent concept for people without the pragmatism to accept the way things are.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said. “Listen, I have to go, but thanks for calling. I’ll check in next week.”
“Nolan…”
“It’s fine, Mom. Give Harrison my regards.”
He hung up and leaned forward on the steering wheel.
Happiness is an indulgent concept for people without the pragmatism to accept the way things are…
It wasn’t true. He knew it wasn’t true because he was happy with Bridget. He’d forgotten how powerful the feeling was, how it made you feel like you could do anything, change anything, be anything. Now that he had it again, he wasn’t going to give it up — not for his mother, not for his stepfather, and definitely not for a career he hadn’t for one moment missed since he’d taken a leave of absence.
He slipped his phone in his pocket, stepped from the car, and pushed aside thoughts of his mother. She was a problem he couldn’t solve tonight, although it was past time for him to make it clear that Bridget was back in his life.