Authors: Mary Jo Putney
Even though Val had been expecting this, the finality of denial was paralyzing. "So it's over. We've failed."
Kendra nodded. Her beautiful caramel skin was tinged with gray.
Val took the fax and skimmed through. The opinion was exactly what she expected. "In spite of everything, I never believed that an injustice of this magnitude could really happen." By concentrating, she was able to stand without wavering. "I'll go downtown to tell Daniel. Do you want to come?"
Kendra shook her head. "I've promised myself not to cry in front of him and I...I wouldn't be able to do that right now."
Val picked up her handbag and headed from the office. At the door she paused to rest a hand on Kendra's arm. "I'm so sorry. Except for Daniel himself, you're the one injured most by our failure."
"Maybe. Luke might disagree." Kendra's gaze came into focus. "For you it's not as much a personal loss, but maybe something even worse. You're losing your belief in the law, and in yourself."
Val caught her breath, startled. "You may be right. At the moment that's too heavy a thought for me to handle. Will you call Luke and Jason to let them know?"
After Kendra nodded, Val left the church, taking extra special care in buckling her seat belt. She was feeling the kind of numbness that required mundane details to keep her anchored to the real world.
In eighteen hours Daniel Monroe would be executed. The drugs would flow into his veins and stop his heart and lungs. All that life and strength would depart, leaving only the shell of what had been a special man. But weren't all men and women special?
An avalanche of emotion cascaded over her, leaving her feeling bruised and bludgeoned. Instinctively she drove from the lot and turned the car north rather than south. She needed to see Rob, who should be in his guest house. Rather than phone, she wanted to tell him the news in person. Even more, she desperately needed for him to hold her. It wouldn't hurt to spare Daniel the bitter truth for a little longer.
As she drove, Kendra's words buzzed around her head. Though she liked winning as much as the next lawyer, failing to save Daniel undermined not her professional ego, but the articles of faith by which she lived. No amount of intellectual understanding that it would be hard to save her client had prepared her for the emotional devastation of knowing that she was part of a system that was about to commit murder.
Would she be able to continue as a lawyer after this? She exhaled roughly, knowing it was too soon to decide any big questions. She was like an accident victim whose severed limb was still bleeding--still in shock, unable to comprehend the magnitude of her injury.
As she turned south on Charles Street, her gaze went automatically to the Stony Run Meeting, the plain old building barely visible on the other side of the Cathedral of Mary Our Queen. She had been tempted so often to stop by. If only...
Abruptly the turmoil of her spirit overcame her doubts, and she turned into the Quaker parking lot. Ordinarily it would have been necessary to ring for admittance to enter the meeting house at an off-hour, but as Val approached an elderly woman with a serene face exited. Seeing Val, she politely held the door open. Val nodded but didn't speak, not wanting to disturb the other woman's peace.
The meeting house was just as Val remembered. She turned slowly, absorbing the atmosphere. Decorated not with stained glass or statues or carved wood but God's own light, the room was a well of silence and peace. Val settled onto the nearest bench, closing her eyes as she remembered the traditional Quaker injunction:
"Turn in thy mind to the Light, and wait upon God."
As a child, she had done that instinctively, quieting her mind to make room for the inner light. She had lost that ability at adolescence, and her inability to recapture quiet had led to her abandoning the meeting. She hadn't known real peace since.
Awash in hormones, the discovery of boys, and a desire for success and the security of money, she had known that she didn't belong at the meeting house. Today she needed to seek at least an echo of faith to sustain her through a dark night of the soul.
Since stilling her mind would be impossible, she formed a mental image of Daniel, then tried to surround him with tight. When she couldn't manage that, she focused on igniting a single spark of inner light in her heart. She was on the verge of giving up when she found a faint, pure glow of illumination deep within.
Expanding the light, she was able to encompass her image of Daniel. Once she felt him beside her, she knew that he would be safe in the light despite the fierce injustice of his imminent death.
As she became more centered, she reached for Louise and Lyssie. They had both had such hard lives. Louise already lived in light, and it was simple to bring her close. Lyssie was more difficult, all jangled edges and wariness, but in time Val felt her little sister's presence as well.
Her spirit, so long deprived, slowly flowered, bringing the peace that surpassed understanding. One by one, she sent light to Rob, to Jason and Kendra and Luke, to her friends and family, to the Friends she had known years before in this meeting house.
She wasn't sure how long she prayed, but when she opened her eyes tears were running down her face. Healing tears that softened her own jangled edges and wariness.
Her mind a kaleidoscope, she rose to leave. Why had she stayed away from the Meeting for so long? Clearness was an important concept among Quakers, and she was experiencing a moment of true clarity. She had been living life with a spiritual void at the center of her soul. No amount of success or material possessions or busyness could fell that elemental emptiness. No wonder she had done so badly with relationships. She had lacked faith in herself and in the power of love.
She was still an imperfect, deeply unworthy Quaker. But she would no longer be an absent one.
∗ ∗ ∗
In the back of Rob's mind a clock ticked away the hours of Daniel Monroe's life. Rob had experienced the same surreal horror when his brother's execution was approaching. Though Rob disagreed with the rough justice of an eye for an eye, at least he could understand it, and Jeff had committed terrible crimes. The death of an innocent man was infinitely more harrowing.
Needing a break from the case notes he was scrutinizing, he walked from the guest house and sat on the top step of the little porch. Malcolm joined him, so he draped an arm over the dog, receiving a moan of comfort in return.
He had spent the last long days digging ever deeper into the life of Omar Benson, hoping to find a definitive piece of evidence to clear Daniel. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
His gaze wandered over the unruly garden that would soon be his. Tomorrow these flowers would still be blooming, and a man who had become a friend would be dead.
He saw a movement from the comer of his eyes, and turned to see Val rounding the corner of the house. She was dressed in crisp professional mode and her expression was calm, but one look into her eyes and he knew what had happened.
Though her face showed the marks of tears, her voice was steady when she said, "I wanted to tell you the bad news in person."
"The petitions failed." He stood and moved toward her, Malcolm at his heels.
"The Supreme Court refused to grant cert. Only to be expected when the chief justice once said that actual innocence is not a constitutional argument. The state Court of Appeals has already agreed that it's essential for cases to achieve finality. After seventeen years of appeals and postconviction proceedings, the testimony of unreliable witnesses isn't enough to make a difference." Her voice broke. "I knew it was a long shot, but even so..."
He wrapped his arms around her shaking body, his emotions as bleak as hers. "We tried our damnedest, Val. It's the most anyone can do."
"'Nice try' isn't good enough! In a capital case, only winning counts." The tears she had been trying to control began spilling from her. She wiped at them angrily. "Dammit, I thought I was done with crying."
He handed her his handkerchief, which was wrinkled but clean. "This situation deserves tears. It deserves sackcloth and ashes and wailing to the heavens."
"I keep wondering if the Court of Appeals was affected negatively by all the publicity. Maybe they didn't want to seem influenced by media opinions."
"There's no way to know, and no point in speculating." He held her tight, glad he could do this if nothing else. Even if Val wouldn't marry him, they would always have the battlefield bond of having fought to save a man's life.
If only they had succeeded.
He steered her to the guest house steps and sat down, tucking her under his arm. When she had mastered her tears, she said, "I've been thinking about my relationship issues and found some clarity, but maybe today isn't the right time to talk about it."
"Give it a try," he suggested. "We could both use a distraction."
"I suppose you're right, but if I don't make any sense, hit your mental delete key." She sat up and made a futile push at her hair. "My omniscient friend Rachel suggested that my allergy to marriage might stem from having my father be such a small part of my life. I got used to the men in my life being limited. Sort of like growing up with an alcoholic, then meeting an attractive drunk and thinking "This feels so right! It must be destiny!' If that makes sense."
"It makes a lot of sense." He thought of his own mother, who mostly wasn't available. Mentally and often physically, she was somewhere else. That had to be an aspect of his own relationship issues. Speaking as much to himself as to Val, he continued, "Recurring patterns are hard to recognize, and even harder to change."
"The funny thing is that I can handle committed, long- term relationships with females. My closest friends date back to elementary school. My mother and I are pretty different, but we like and trust and understand each other. Friday, when Lyssie's grandmother collapsed and was hospitalized, I agreed to become Lyssie's guardian if Louise dies before Lyssie is of age."
"That's major, and good." He drew her closer, thinking this surprising announcement boded well for his prospects. "If ever a little girl deserved to be taken care of, it's Lyssie. How is her grandmother doing?"
"It looks like she'll pull through this time, but it's too soon to judge her long-term prospects. Whatever happens, Lyssie is now part of my family. I felt a pang or two of claustrophobia when Louise first asked me, but no real doubt that it was the right thing to do. It's only with men that my judgment collapses and I panic."
"You couldn't trust your father to be there for you, and that set the pattern of your relationships with men ever since. Not to mention that falling in love makes us terribly vulnerable." As he was where Val was concerned. "Safer never to fall all the way."
"Maybe that explains why one of the best relationships I've ever had with a man is with Kate Corsi's brother, who's gay," she said thoughtfully. "He was the big brother to all of us, and I would trust him with anything."
"Because he wasn't a threat, and even as a kid you sensed that." Rob frowned, trying to find words for an elusive concept. "If sex and love intertwined are dangerous, maybe your natural sensuality--in other words, sex-- could only be expressed freely if you controlled the love end of the equation by avoiding it."
Her eyes narrowed with thought. "That's an interesting way to look at it. Makes me sound almost rational. Does that mean that if I fall in love, I'll have to give up sex?"
"I certainly hope not!"
She smiled at his vehemence. "The scary thing about you, Rob, is that you're offering unconditional love, and I just don't know how to get a handle on something with no edges or limit. My over-educated mind can say coolly that I have self-esteem issues, but somewhere deep inside a funny looking redheaded kid is shrieking 'Wrong!' and 'You don't deserve a great guy like this!'"
"Careful. If you're too flattering, I'm going to start suffering self-esteem issues myself," he warned, but hope sparked inside him. "We both have things we need to sort out, Val. The first and most critical step is to recognize that so we can get to work."
She lifted her gaze to his, her eyes transparently honest. "On the way over here I stopped at the Stony Run Meeting on the other side of Charles Street, and I think I have some new insights. It's still an open question if I can change in the ways I need to, but I really intend to try. Just...can you be patient?"
"I can be very patient when the rewards are so great." He smoothed back her hair as he studied her eyes. "You're going to need some patience with me as well. I know I'm in love with you, but that doesn't mean I know how to build a happy, lasting marriage. I've never seen one close up."
"Thinking about your childhood puts my problems in perspective," she said ruefully. "When you drew your line in the sand, you said I couldn't cross it until I was willing to seriously consider a long-term relationship. I'm serious now. Does that mean we can be a couple again?"
"It sure does." He kissed her, feeling levels of openness that were new. This is what he had wanted and been unable to find when they first came together. "I love you, Val. It may be a long journey to where you'll be comfortable with marriage, but at least we're finally on the same path."
She settled against him trustingly. "My friend Rachel said I should talk to you because you sounded like the listening sort. Rachel is always right."
He laughed. "I'm glad she is, because I'm not."
"Neither am I. That's why I hold onto my smart friends."
He stroked her arm. "I'm feeling this odd mixture of emotions. On the one hand, I would like to take you inside and make mad, passionate love as a symbol of reconciliation. And yet...it feels as if it would be wrong to be so happy and self-indulgent when Daniel is facing death."
"I feel the same. We can wait. We have time. Daniel doesn't." She sighed. "It's time for me to go down to the SuperMax and tell him the bad news. He won't blame me, but that won't make me feel any better."
"Let me do it. I had already decided to visit him if this turned out to be his...his last day. There's no point in you torturing yourself when I'll be talking to him anyhow."