The Tenth Justice Read online

  “C’mon,” Ben said. “This case took three years to reach us. You don’t really believe the whole transaction was legal speculation?”

  “I don’t think it was all speculation, but I do think Howard Grinnell is a piece of shit. You read the record—he’s an uptight greedy developer who was born with a silver stick up his ass.”

  “That was in the record?” Ben asked. “I never saw that.”

  “You know what I mean. I just can’t believe Veidt was such a coward,” Lisa said, flipping her legal pad to a clean page. “We have to write a scathing dissent for this. I want to limit this decision as much as possible.”

  “Don’t worry. Veidt’s lack of enthusiasm limits their opinion to this set of facts. By the time we’re done with it, this decision will look like it came out of a traffic court.”

  Lisa put her pencil down and took a deep breath. While a halfhearted vote by a justice ensured victory in the case at hand, it usually also led to a halfhearted decision. And if history was any indicator, halfhearted decisions rarely made strong legal precedents.

  “Besides,” Ben said, “this decision will be overruled in a year. When Blake steps down, you know we’re going to get a liberal justice.”

  “I know,” Lisa admitted. “It’ll just annoy me to see Grinnell take home all that cash.” Looking up from her desk, she added, “Have you thought about how Rick fits into all this?”

  “I haven’t figured it out yet, but my guess is that if he knew the decision, he’d try to buy a piece of Grinnell’s action.”

  “Have you decided whether you’re going to tell him? Or is there a new plan to catch him on tape?”

  “I’m not sure,” Ben said. “I just have to survive Thanksgiving with my family.”

  “Where the hell is Ober?” Ben asked Nathan as the two friends stood in their living room, suitcases by their sides.

  “He probably got lost on his way home,” Nathan said. “The simpleminded are easily confused.”

  “I say we leave his ass,” Lisa said, returning from the kitchen with a can of soda in her hand. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll miss the flight.”

  “Trust me, we don’t want that,” Ben warned. “If he misses the plane, his mother will be on our backs all weekend.” Ben screeched in imitation of Ober’s mom: “You’ve forgotten my baby! Where’s my baby?”

  “He’s an only child,” Nathan explained to Lisa. “His mom’s a bit possessed.”

  “You mean possessive,” Ben corrected.

  “Oh, yes, I mean possessive. Silly me,” Nathan said, repeating the friends’ old high school joke.

  “GET ME OUT OF HERE!” Ober announced, flinging open the front door.

  “Where the hell were you?” Ben asked.

  “There was an emergency at the office,” Nathan said sarcastically. “There was an outburst of rowdy orange-juice-subsidy letter writers who needed swift attention.”

  Ober pointed at Lisa. “I didn’t know you were flying with us.”

  “And she’s not even paying for it,” Ben said. “My parents are picking up the tab.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Ober asked. “If I knew free airfare was involved, I’d have told your mom that I was sleeping with you.”

  “I appreciate that,” Ben said. “Now can we get out of here?”

  Ober grabbed his suitcase from his room and returned to the living room. “Where’s Eric?” he asked.

  “ERIC!” Nathan called out. “WE’RE LEAVING!”

  Eric walked down the stairs with a navy duffel bag and joined the group without saying a word to anyone. They all packed into Nathan’s Volvo and headed for National Airport.

  “They’re going to lose our luggage,” Lisa said, after the skycap loaded their bags onto a dolly and rolled them toward the conveyor belt.

  “What makes you say that?” Ben asked.

  “I just saw what Scrooge here tipped him,” Lisa said, pointing at Ober.

  “How much did you tip him?” Nathan asked, watching to make sure that his bags were loaded on the conveyor.

  “I gave him a dollar,” Ober said.

  “You gave him one dollar for five bags?” Ben asked.

  “Good-bye, suitcase, it was nice knowing you!” Lisa called to her luggage.

  “What’s wrong with a dollar?” Eric asked.

  “For one bag, nothing,” Ben said. “But if you have five bags for five different people, a dollar tip says, ‘Throw these bags in a volcano. I have no use for them.’”

  “Just relax,” Eric said as the group walked inside the terminal. Turning to Ober, he added, “Nothing’ll happen. You’ll see.”

  With only two days until Thanksgiving, National Airport was swarming with people. Fighting the irate crowds, the friends made their way through the X-ray machine and toward their gate.

  Ober scanned the row of shops and eateries that lined the terminal. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he took off in a mad dash.

  “Lottery tickets,” Ben said to Lisa.

  As the remainder of the group arrived at the boarding gate, they waited at the back of a single, weaving line. Eventually, Ober returned, red-faced and breathing heavily. “Let me guess,” Ben said. “You won.”

  “First I bought one ticket and I lost,” Ober explained. “Then I bought another ticket and I lost. Then, I bought a third ticket—”

  “And you lost,” Nathan said.

  “…and I lost,” Ober repeated. “But then, I bought the fourth magical, wonderful ticket…”

  “And you won.”

  “…AND I WON!” Ober screamed as everyone in line turned around. “I WON TWENTY BUCKS RIGHT THERE!”

  “He has a small chemical imbalance,” Ben explained to the onlookers. “With a little medication, he’ll be fine.”

  “You won twenty bucks?” Nathan asked. “What’d you buy us?”

  “I didn’t buy you squat,” Ober said. “If you want to make fun of the lottery, you will not reap its rewards.”

  “You won twenty bucks and you didn’t buy your friends anything?” Ben asked. “I’m starving here.”

  “Me, too,” Eric said. “I’m going to grab a slice of pizza. Does anyone want anything?”

  “I’ll take a slice,” Ober said.

  “Make it two,” Nathan said.

  “Make it three,” Lisa said.

  “Ben, do you want a slice?” Eric asked.

  “No,” Ben said, looking away. “Thanks.”

  When Eric stepped away from the line, Ober tapped Ben on the shoulder. “Don’t be such a hard-ass. He’s trying his best to make up.”

  “Too bad,” Ben said. “I’m not ready to make up right now.”

  “Just be nice,” Nathan begged. “Even if it’s only for the weekend.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ben said. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you nervous yet?” Ben asked, when the plane landed in Boston.

  “A little,” Lisa said, wiping her palms on her jeans.

  “You should be,” Ober said. “Because Sheila Addison is about to eat you alive.”

  “Did you bring the garlic and the wooden stake?” Nathan asked.

  “If you ever feel like there’s a lull in the conversation, just look her straight in the eye and say, ‘Are you my mommy?’ You can always use that in a pinch,” Ben said.

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Lisa said.

  Shaking his head, Ben said, “Just remember—you wanted to come here. I tried to persuade you to stay home. Therefore, all blood is on your hands.”

  “I think I’ll be able to handle it,” Lisa said.

  When the plane reached the gate, the narrow aisle filled with people. Ben got up from his seat, but was unable to stand upright in his row. Cocking his head to the right, he crossed his arms and waited impatiently. Directly behind him, Eric was stuck in the same position. “Don’t you just love this?” Eric asked, forcing a laugh.

  “Actually, I hate it,” Ben said.

  “Listen, can we just prete
nd it didn’t happen?” Eric asked. “It’ll make for a nicer weekend.”

  “No, Eric, we can’t pretend it didn’t happen.” Ben scowled. “No matter how much you want to make it go away, it’s going to be with us for a long while.”

  “Why? Why can’t we just start over? I’m sorry already. I’m sorry it happened.”

  “You make it sound as if it happened by itself,” Ben said. “But in case you didn’t realize, you’re the one responsible. You did it. Understand?”

  “Big deal. I did it—I’ll live with it. Why can’t you?”

  Noticing the passengers who started to stare, Ben lowered his voice. “Because I don’t like you anymore. Get that through your damn skull and leave me alone.” As the passengers began to disembark, Ben inched closer toward the aisle. Eventually able to straighten his neck, he stood between Lisa and Nathan.

  “What was that all about?” Nathan asked.

  “Nothing.” Ben said.

  “Is there anything else you forgot to tell me about your family?” Lisa asked.

  “Just one thing,” he said, taking a deep breath and smiling at the thought of the coming weekend. “Don’t touch my father’s plate when he’s eating. He’s very territorial.”

  “Ben, be serious.”

  “You’re on your own, missy. Just keep your head down at all times.”

  As they moved through the terminal, Lisa searched the crowd, hoping to identify Ben’s family. Suddenly, a voice screamed out, “Yooohooo! Benjamin! Nathan!”

  “Oh, God, it’s Ober’s mom,” Ben whispered to Lisa, nodding in the direction of a frosted-blond head bobbing in the crowd. The woman was frantically waving her hands.

  “Be careful,” he said. “She may try to put a scrunchie on you.”

  The five friends made their way through the crowds and watched as Ober was enveloped by his mother’s hug. Wearing an extra long purple sweatshirt and a pair of black leggings, Barbara Oberman could barely contain herself. “William! I missed you more than words!” She squeezed Ober with all her might. “Nathan!” she said, moving toward the group of friends. “Eric! Ben!” She wrapped her arms around each one, a human hugging assembly line. “And you must be Lisa,” Ober’s mother said, extending her hand. “You should know that you’re the first girlfriend Ben’s brought home since—what was her name?—Lindsay something.”

  “Lindsay Lucas,” Ober sang. “The psycho from Long Island.”

  “Whatever happened to her?” Nathan asked.

  “Last I heard, she had hurt herself in a terrible Skee-Ball accident,” Ober said.

  His face red, Ben interrupted, “Mrs. Oberman, do you know where my dad is?”

  “He and your mom are working late,” she said. “I’ll drop you off at home. Nathan, Eric, I told your parents I’d pick you up as well. I have the minivan.” After they retrieved their baggage, the small group walked to the parking lot and loaded their belongings into the podlike cherry-red minivan.

  Pulling off at the West Newton exit, the van left the Massachusetts Turnpike and entered suburbia. Armed and stocked with roving rent-a-cops, the community was determined to remain a safe, clean neighborhood, no matter what the cost. As the minivan followed the curving streets, Ben said, “On your left, you can see Dr. MacKenzie’s house—of the Newton MacKenzies. Naturally it’s the biggest house in Newton.”

  “He’s the best plastic surgeon,” Ober’s mother explained.

  “This place is unbelievable,” Lisa said, looking around. “I’ve seen suburbia and it’s driving a Volvo.”

  After dropping off Eric and Nathan, the Oberman shuttle pulled up to Ben’s house.

  “So what are the sleeping arrangements for tonight?” Ober asked as he opened the door.

  “Funny,” Ben said as he and Lisa climbed out of the van. “Thanks for the ride, Mrs. Oberman.”

  “You’re welcome. Tell your mom I say hi.”

  “I definitely will,” Ben said. “And by the way, I’d watch your son while he’s home. He’s been so busy at work, he hasn’t been eating well.”

  “I knew you looked skinny!” Ober’s mother said as Ben shut the door and Ober scowled out the window.

  “Now that was downright mean,” Lisa said.

  “He deserved it,” Ben said as he walked up the path to his house.

  Lisa looked up at the modest Colonial-style home. “Nice place.”

  As they approached the front steps, the front door opened. “Benjamin!” his mother said. She opened her arms and gave him a long embrace. “You look terrific,” she said. “A bit thin, but otherwise terrific. And you must be Lisa,” she said, extending her hand.

  “Nice to meet you,” Lisa said.

  “In case you didn’t guess, this is my mom,” Ben said. “She’s the malevolent evil one I was telling you about.”

  “Don’t be such a smart-ass,” Ben’s mother said. “I’m trying to make a good impression.” Without question, Ben had inherited his mother’s features: her strong eyes, her quizzical eyebrows, the way her nose crinkled when she laughed. Even their mannerisms seemed to mirror each other. For every quick remark Ben had, his mother had a stronger retort.

  Carrying his packed-to-capacity nylon bag, Ben followed Lisa and his mother into the house. When they reached the living room, Mrs. Addison called out, “Michael! They’re here!” From out of the kitchen, Ben’s father appeared, dressed in jeans and a beat-up old Michigan T-shirt.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Addison. I’m Lisa.”

  Taking Lisa’s hand, he said, “Please, call me Michael. Mr. Addison’s my dumpy old dad.”

  His hair was longer than Lisa had expected. It must be the old-hippie thing, she thought.

  “Why don’t you bring Lisa’s bags upstairs,” Ben’s mother said to Ben. “I wasn’t sure how you two wanted to do the sleeping arrangements, so…”

  “Mom, we’re not even dating,” Ben said.

  “Well, excuse me, Mr. Bachelor,” Ben’s mother said. She turned to Lisa and added, “He says you two aren’t dating, but he hasn’t brought home a woman since Lindsay—what was her name?”

  “Lindsay Lucas,” Ben and Lisa said together.

  Smiling, Ben’s mother said, “I see you’ve already had this discussion.”

  “I refuse to explain,” Ben said. Grabbing Lisa’s bag, he walked toward the stairs. “I’ll be right back.” Walking up to his old room, Ben inhaled the smells of his childhood. It felt good and familiar and safe to be back, he decided. As with every other visit home, he marveled at the illusion that everything around him had gotten smaller—from his old bed, to his old desk, to the Albert Einstein poster on his wall. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he put Lisa’s bags in the guest room and then walked down to the kitchen.

  “Awwwww,” he heard Lisa say as he entered the room. “You were so cute!”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ben said. “Baby pictures already? What’d it take, two whole minutes? That’s a new record for you, Mom.”

  “Leave her alone,” Lisa said, still engrossed in the photos.

  “You should see some of the home movies we have,” Ben’s father added.

  “Don’t even think of it, Dad,” Ben warned. “Home movies have at least a one-night waiting period.”

  “So tell me more about Ben as a little kid,” Lisa said.

  “Tell her about the time I lit Jimmy Eisenberg on fire.”

  “Oh, shush,” Ben’s mother said. Turning back to Lisa, she continued, “He was so bright. He learned to read when he was two. And by the time he was four, he used to read Michael’s articles.”

  “He found a spelling mistake in one of my final drafts,” Ben’s father said proudly. “Tell Lisa about the time you found him up on the roof.”

  “Now that’s a story,” Ben’s mother said. “When Ben was five, it was late one night, and I couldn’t find him. I was frantic—”

  “Mom, you were frantic?” Ben asked.

  “I was frantic, looking everywhere for him. I was
pulling my hair out. Suddenly, I hear this sound on the roof. Let me tell you, my heart dropped. I ran up through the attic and opened the door to the roof, and there’s Benjamin, wearing his little pajamas and holding a rope in his hand. So I scream, ‘Benjamin, what the hell do you think you’re doing out here?’ And he says to me, ‘Mommy, I was just trying to lasso the moon.’”

  “Awwwwww,” Lisa said. “Ever the little over-achiever.”

  “Oh, well—show’s over,” Ben said, leaving the kitchen. “Good night.”

  “Benjamin, come back here,” Ben’s mother said.

  Scanning through the pictures, Lisa looked up and asked, “Is this little guy your brother?”

  “Yeah,” Ben said with a smile. He then looked over at both his mother and father.

  Confused, Lisa was silent.

  “That’s Daniel. He passed away when he was twelve,” Ben’s father said. “He had leukemia.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lisa said. “I didn’t know.”

  “And now you do,” Ben said, trying to make Lisa feel comfortable. Standing behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”

  “He was a terrific young man,” Ben’s mother said proudly. “You would’ve really gotten along.”

  “Thanks,” Lisa said, unsure of what else to say.

  “Maybe we should call it a night.” Ben looked at his watch. “It’s close to midnight.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Ben’s mother said, stacking the photo albums in a neat pile. “What do you two have planned for tomorrow?”

  “I think we’re going to spend the day in the city. Lisa’s never been to Boston. And we’re supposed to go over to Nathan’s house for dinner.”

  “That’s right,” his mother said, getting up from her seat by the kitchen table. “Joan told me that. Just make sure we see you for at least a few hours.”

  “We will, Mom. Don’t worry.”

  “Nice to meet you both,” Lisa said as she and Ben left the kitchen.

  Neither Ben nor Lisa said a word until they reached the second floor. “I’m sorry about bringing up your brother,” Lisa finally said as they entered the guest room.

  “It’s okay,” Ben said warmly. “It’s been a while, so we can handle it.”