Emily rolled back over. “What?”
“Cecilia’s chewing out one of the reporters.” Sean pulled his suit jacket over his arm and shuttled downstairs. He opened the door right as the bell rang, and Cecilia barged in.
Before Sean shut the door, Cecilia turned toward the small group huddled on the sidewalk outside his picket fence. “Just try to get a fucking quote from me ever again, Steve. You’re dead to me—and I’ll make sure you’re dead to every single one of the Supreme Court Bar. See how you’ll do reporting the appellate beat when no one will talk to you.” She slammed the door.
“What was that about?” Sean asked.
“I just asked him what the fuck he’s doing. He’s the goddamned Supreme Court correspondent for the network, yet he’s out there like some grimy TMZ paparazzi.”
“I don’t like it, but he’s got a boss and a job to do like the rest of us,” Sean said.
“Bullshit,” she said. Debating with Cecilia never had an upside, so he dropped it. Her eyes fluttered about the living room at all the flowers. “It looks like a funeral home in here.” She paused, at a rare loss for words, seeming to realize the insensitivity of the remark.
“We’ve got enough flowers and casseroles for a lifetime,” Sean said. “Sorry for calling on short notice. Emily’s still not feeling well, and I didn’t want Ryan to have to take the bus to school. Not yet, anyway.”
“I’m happy to help. Are you sure they’re ready to get back to school? And I’m sure the law firm will survive without you for a while.”
“Ryan’s therapist said it’ll be best for both boys to get back to their routine. And what am I going to do? Sit around all day? I’d rather be busy.” Sean had already read two books on how to cope with losing a child. Both said that men often throw themselves into their work out of a misguided idea that they need to appear strong. And to avoid dealing with the grief. The books advised against going back to work too soon. But the books were wrong.
Cecilia frowned. “How are the boys?”
Sean lowered his voice since his sons were in the kitchen nearby eating breakfast. “Jack’s doing pretty well. I think he doesn’t fully understand. Ryan is trickier. He’s putting on a strong front, but he’s hurting.”
“Can I say hello?”
In the kitchen, the boys were at the granite counter with the Cheerios, bagels, and orange juice. Like Before.
“Hi boys.”
“Cici!” Jack said. “Are you giving me a ride to school?”
“Nope,” Cecilia said. “Your dad’s taking you. I’ve got to take this creature.” Cecilia tousled Ryan’s hair. He normally would have laughed and feigned struggle, but today he just tolerated it.
“Hey Dad,” Ryan said.
“Yes, buddy.”
“Malik Montgomery’s got a good lawyer.” Ryan looked toward the small television on the kitchen counter. “The news said his lawyer refused to comment about his arrest, and you said a good lawyer would never comment or appear on the Today show.”
“No, I said, you know you have a bad lawyer if he wants to comment or go on those shows. But you’re not supposed to be watching this stuff.” Sean clicked off the set and tilted his head toward Jack, a signal to Ryan that the two of them were a team protecting the little guy. It was manipulative, Sean knew, but it also worked. Ryan was right, though. Malik Montgomery had hired a good lawyer—one of the best criminal lawyers in the country, actually, an old Washington hand named Blake Hellstrom.
“Cici,” Jack said, “when are those news people outside gonna leave?”
Cecilia furrowed her brow. “I’m not sure. Maybe we should go get the water hose and encourage them to go.”
“Yeah!” Jack climbed off the kitchen stool until Sean grabbed him by the arm and hoisted him back up.
“Cecilia was just kidding,” Sean said. He eyed Cecilia, whose cocked eyebrow said, No I wasn’t.
The boys chomped down the last of their breakfast and left the kitchen to gather their backpacks. Sean looked at Cecilia. “When do you think they’ll go away, Cel? It’s not good for the boys.” At OSG Sean wasn’t permitted to comment on the government’s cases, so he had little experience with the press. Cel, though, knew the game well. With her gift for quotable one-liners and her lack of filter, she was a reporter’s dream and quite popular with the press corps.
“I honestly don’t know when they’ll give up,” Cecilia said.
“You deal with the press all the time, you’ve got no idea?”
Cecilia considered the question. “I suppose they’ll stay until they hear from you. Have you thought about a press release? You’ve gotta feed the beast.”
Sean exhaled. “You really think that will do it? If I talk, they’ll go away?”