Watching Glass Shatter Page 6

  “No problemo. And her mother? She still tryin' to get back in the picture?” Tressa exhaled a perfect smoke circle that floated above her head and disappeared into the starry city skyline.

  Zach had managed to keep Katerina, Anastasia's mother, out of their lives for the last two years. She lived in a rehab clinic most of the year but had recently sprung herself claiming to have kicked the addiction to crystal.

  “Katerina came by last week. We talked. She wants shared custody with no supervision required. I can't do it. Not after last time.”

  Tressa placed her hand on his hip. “Good plan. That chica is loca.”

  “Si, muy loco. Extra loco.” His mouth sneered, and his eyes opened wide.

  Zach finished his soda and tossed the bottle across the sidewalk to the receptacle a few feet away. It bounced off the rim and knocked itself to the bottom causing a girl in gothic garb walking across the street to hiss at him. He grabbed his crotch, as if to tell her to screw off, but she'd already turned the corner.

  “So how you doin' with your papa's death? You mentioned they read the will this week?” She adjusted enormous cleavage that wished it could burst beyond the stretched-out nylon fabric keeping it captive.

  Tressa and Zach had been close since he started at The Atlantis Lair several years ago. They'd slept together a few times until the true extent of his personal issues surfaced, telling him she didn't need more trouble in her life. They agreed to stop screwing around and just be friends, but she still flirted with him and talked about his tattooed body and hard ass. She'd also sworn off men for a few months and had recently begun dating a lesbian bartender, deciding to explore her bisexual side in the meantime.

  Zach smirked. “Yup. And it was ridiculous. My dad left my mom a letter and told her to read it alone.”

  “That's sweet.” A forced, fake smile appeared as she lit a second cigarette before offering one to Zach.

  He declined. “You know liquor is my only vice these days.”

  She nodded. “You shouldn't even drink if you're tryin' to stay away from it all.”

  “It's weird. The lawyer handed my mother a second letter, and she's supposed to give it to one of my brothers or to me—we don't know. She hasn't said a word since the will reading four days ago,” Zach spat out. “It pisses me off. My dad has a message for us, but she won't share it.”

  Zach had frequently reminded his mother she couldn't keep the contents of the letter a secret and demanding everyone should have a chance to read them. When she said no, he erupted on her, citing her selfish behavior over the years. She and Zach had engaged in an intense fight, resulting in him storming off to places where people truly cared about him, as he put it to her that day.

  “Have you told her why it's important to you, papi? Maybe it was personal, and she's still grieving over his death.” Tressa previously told him she lost her father as a teenager and how she still thought about him every day, especially right before bed when silence paralyzed her mind and she needed comfort.

  “She called today and left me a message. My mother wants me to stay at the house in Connecticut at the end of June for Anastasia's birthday, just the three of us. She plans to bitch at me for leaving my girl with them when I'm here. You know, I still haven't told her where I work. Her intuition tells her I drop my kid off and get wasted as a tribute to my past. She hasn't realized I'm done with the drugs and the partying.”

  Tressa perked up. “Zach, you're the top DJ in New York right now. You're hotter than anyone else in the industry. You're why this place packs full of millennial douches every night. Your mama might understand if you told her what you're trying to do with your life.”

  Zach shrugged. “Maybe. I can't stop thinking about my dad. I miss him. I still can't accept he was alive last week and later died in some fucking accident. I don't get it.”

  Tressa stroked his forearm where the pair of dice met the playing card, gently pulling at the short hairs, as she did to relax him when they used to share a bed. “Shit happens, guapo. It sucks. I've been there. It takes time. I'm still not over my papa dying, and that happened ten years ago. You need to talk about it more.”

  Zach shut his eyes for a few seconds and cleared his head. “He was a good dad. He didn't give me crap about my choices. I know he wanted me to finish school, but after Anastasia came along, I had no desire left for college and studying. I needed to use my creativity. That's why I did coke for so long. It kept me from having to deal with everything else in my life. But he always pulled me back in. Did I ever tell you he pushed me to rehab?”

  Tressa shook her head. “You rarely talk about those days anymore.”

  “My Aunt Diane babysat Anastasia for a weekend to give me a break. Desperation clung to my body, willing me to party with my friends and forget my life. We were out for twenty-four hours when we crashed from exhaustion. When I got home, my father stood outside my building. He knew I was wasted. He'd been calling me for hours, but I didn't have my phone. Anastasia learned how to walk on her own and took a dive off my aunt's back steps. She wasn't hurt but got scared and wanted her daddy. My parents couldn't reach me, and my dad drove to the city, waited at my apartment until I came home, and saw what was going on.”

  Tressa grabbed Zach's other hand, telling him the second track had taken over inside. They only had a few more minutes left to talk.

  “I wanted to see my daughter, but he wouldn't let me go on my own. He told me I had to check myself into his friend's rehab facility and get better first. Damn, I miss him.”

  Tressa nodded. “He was a good papa. What did you do?”

  Zach smiled and laughed loudly. “What could I do? I knew he meant business. If I didn't get help right then and there, it'd have been far worse in the long run. I went inside and showered. He let me call Anastasia to tell her I needed to take a trip for a few weeks, drove me to the facility, and registered me for in-patient treatment. I've been off drugs since that day. But I won't give up my liquor.”

  Tressa hugged him. “And it comes full circle. Look at how good of a papa you've been to your daughter. Papa and mama, hon. Maybe you should give your mama a chance since he's gone.”

  Zach groaned. “I've been considering it. Maybe my mother and I need a come-to-Jesus meeting. I can't take the bitchy attitude.”

  Tressa laughed. “Have you told her about the LA producer coming to meet you later this month? Maybe if you told your mama that you put your life back together, have a steady job, been focusing on music again, and stopped dealing and using, she may back off?”

  “Perhaps, but now's not the right time. What if the producer doesn't believe my music leads anywhere? I need to prove to myself, and I guess to her, that I can be successful at writing songs. She never supported it when I was younger. My dad might have come around, but I'll never know.” Zach massaged his temples. The bass needled on his last remaining nerve, and the Tylenol hadn't yet kicked in.

  Tressa pulled him closer, kissed his cheek, and hugged him tightly. “Te amo, amigo. Te amo. We'll get through this.” She scraped her cigarette across the pavement and tossed it into the trash. “Vamos, you got a few more hours to go inside. And this little mamacita needs huge tips tonight.”

  Zach grabbed Tressa's arm and ushered her through the door. She shuffled across the steps and he walked to his booth, noticing he had two texts from his brother and one from Katerina. He first responded to Katerina.

  Zach: Stop bugging me. I told you I'm getting a lawyer.

  Kat: I want to see my daughter.

  Zach: No way. Not having this convo again.

  Kat: You'll regret it. She needs her mother, too.

  Zach reflected on his situation for a moment, realizing he needed to find a lawyer but also didn't want to ask his family for a handout. He read his brother's messages.

  Caleb: You okay? What was that call about?

  Caleb: You were pretty messed yesterday.

  Zach: Yeah. Listen, 4get what I told you.

  Caleb: That
you screwed up that bad? Then why did you tell me?

  Zach: I don't know. Been 4eva since we'd talked before yesterday. Had to tell someone.

  Caleb: But her? Why?

  Zach: Yeah. I know. I'll handle it.

  Caleb: Pickles is gonna lose it. It'll send him over the edge.

  Zach: No doubt. He can NEVER know.

  Caleb: We all have secrets.

  Zach: What does that mean?

  Caleb: Nothing. Forget it. Now we're even.

  Zach: Sure. Like that hilarious cicada incident.

  Zach laughed over his brother's mysterious message, but then became alarmed when his mother's number rang on the phone. He picked up.

  “Hey, Mom. Got your voicemail. Sure, I'll take a few days off to stay with you at the house in a couple of weeks.”

  “Oh, good. I have a lot to talk to you about. I wanted you to know the importance behind my request.”

  “Yup. I get it and will call you tomorrow to plan Anastasia's birthday party.”

  “I'm going to call Theodore in a few minutes. I need to be certain he is ready to take over your father's law practice. I know he's capable, but he needs to learn how to build more open and trusting relationships with his employees. This firm remains the last thing we have left of your father. It's his legacy to you boys.”

  “Mom, I'm sure Teddy knows it. I got to get back to work.”

  “Work? You know, Zachary, you need to be more…”

  “Enough, Mom. I can't do this right now.”

  Zach hung up and turned off his phone before taking control of the DJ equipment.

  Everyone in my life is fucking nuts. I need to get my daughter away from these people.

  Chapter 6 – Teddy

  Teddy turned off the hot water faucet, pushed open the heavy glass door and grabbed a plush green towel from the bar outside the shower. After stepping through to the white tiled floor, he dried his pale and lanky body. One to follow explicit routines, he started first with his face, followed by his thinning hair, and worked his way to his size twelve feet.

  Despite only being thirty-two, Teddy's body already showed signs of aging—his knees clicked when he walked, his shoulders stooped forward, and his skin took on a yellow hue. Never one for the gym or eating well, he cared little about his health and spent most of his time at the office working late nights. A typical dinner consisted of a bag of chips from the vending machine in the office kitchen and a gyro from the truck staying open late in front of their building—no vegetables—just loaded with creamy sauce and an extra packet of salt. The halal food cart vendor knew him by name, having a to-go package ready each evening at nine o'clock.

  Teddy wrapped the towel around his waist below his sharp, protruding hip bones, and swiftly ran his fingers through his graying hair. While pulling out the razor blade and shaving cream, his father's face reflected back at him in the mirror. It scared Teddy so soon after his father's death. His body shifted in the mirror as if to jump back several years. He welcomed the interruption when his phone buzzed with a text.

  Ethan: On a break from my shift. Just checking on you.

  Teddy: I'm fine. Heading to work. You?

  Ethan: Good. Thinking about Dad. Remember when he brought Bailey home?

  Teddy: Bailey? The dog?

  Ethan: Yup. He loved that puppy. As did you.

  Teddy: That was a long time ago.

  Ethan: I'm adopting another Shiba.

  Teddy: Okay. Why are you telling me? I'm not dog-sitting.

  Ethan: Just don't want to lose contact since Dad's gone.

  Teddy: I miss him, too. We'll be okay.

  Ethan: You ready to become partner? Dad prepped you well.

  Teddy: I can't talk now. Got to go.

  Ethan: Can I call you later? I need advice. Something happened.

  Teddy: Do it over the weekend. Got a bunch of meetings today.

  Teddy dropped the phone and pulled the razor across his chin, nicking the cleft, and sending a steady, viscous stream of warm blood dripping down his neck.

  When he had been a young child, Teddy's parents both worked at the law firm. He spent most of his time with his grandparents, who adored him, but it also meant he spent little time with Ben and Olivia. Over time, Teddy received little emotional caregiving as each new baby had claimed priority for those moments. Once he could talk, his father showed more interest in his first-born son and took Teddy with him to the office for a few hours each week to give Olivia a break from so many young children at home. Teddy became obsessed with the first words he learned to read from his father's divorce agreements. Though odd for a child so young to understand words such as “uncontested” and “arbitration,” it came naturally to Teddy. Near the end of grammar school, Teddy openly talked about people getting divorces and standard custody arrangements. His peers' confused faces comforted him, knowing he had surpassed them all. But he never acknowledged them as his peers—even his classmates were inferiors.

  Most of his life revolved around making decisions other people expected of him. When he turned fourteen, his father pushed him into the mock debate club to strengthen his ability to take command and to develop leadership skills. His mother enrolled him in a public speaking class at the local university to build his confidence and stage presence when he turned sixteen. In the summer before he left for college, Teddy interned in his father's law office scribing meetings and researching financial records and land deeds. His father selected Yale as Teddy's undergrad and law school, it being his alma mater and a source of many happy memories. None of those were options Teddy had any opportunity to discuss. Teddy wished he could use the skills he learned on the debate team to counter his parents' decisions with his own well-planned requests, but in the effort to turn Teddy into his father, Teddy lost the ability to focus on his personal needs.

  While cleaning the blood and re-applying shaving cream to his cheeks, Teddy noticed the lines forming around his eyes and mouth. He changed blades on the razor and began the ritual over again. Start first with your neck, as his father taught him.

  In the last few months before the accident, knowing he would retire soon, Ben scheduled meetings three times per day with Teddy. In the mornings, they would discuss the day's caseload to cover employee issues and communication skills, both of which frustrated Teddy. He'd little desire to talk to his colleagues unless needing an answer about a case or canon law. Opposing counsel in divorce arbitrations and settlements always feared him, but while Teddy could settle a bitter divorce case with mellow ease, managing his colleagues and a firm on his own felt unnatural.

  For lunch, Ben would pick a different client, bringing Teddy along to build his son's relationship skills. Teddy's least affinity included the lunch meetings, as they rarely served any purpose. His father would do the talking, asking about the client's state of mind, post-divorce plans, and support structure. It was too personal for Teddy. He admired and respected his father for caring about the client's well-being, but to Teddy, his job as the client's attorney required a focus on securing the best deal possible in the divorce. The client had responsibility for the emotional survival upon splitting from a spouse.

  Promptly at six each evening, Ben held the third daily meeting to review his earlier accomplishments and offered instructions to Teddy on what he needed to complete by the next morning. Ben showed his love for his first-born son by teaching him everything he knew to achieve success in family law, but for Teddy, its sterility had become the only way he knew how to live.

  Teddy rinsed the razor, splashed warm water on his face, and dried off his cheeks using the towel around his waist. He left the bathroom and walked toward the bedroom to dress before driving to the office. As he sifted through the closet, Teddy located his Friday suit in its usual spot, freshly pressed, as he requested. Sarah always collected his dry-cleaning on her way home from the hospital each week.

  Teddy had met Sarah through his brother, Matt, and sister-in-law, Margaret, at a holiday party they'd thrown ma
ny years ago. Sarah, a recent arrival in Connecticut, had started working at the hospital as a pediatric nurse where she delivered Margaret and Matt's first daughter. After a Glass family summer barbecue, Sarah and Teddy went on a double date with Margaret and Matt, and although no sparks manifested for Teddy, time ticked away to select a wife.

  While searching in his closet for a tie, Teddy recalled the day he asked Sarah to marry him…

  “It would seem to me since we've been dating for three months, maybe we should make this permanent,” Teddy said.

  “Matt and Margaret did take the time to introduce us. It was kind of them, especially since I don't know many people around these parts,” Sarah said.

  “True. What do you think of me?”

  “You're smart. I reckon you work a lot. You must not get a lot of free time.”

  “My father expects me to take over the family law practice in a few years. Do you enjoy being a nurse?”

  “I love working with babies, that's why I moved north for this job. I don't much relish working the overnight hours, but maybe it will change in the future.”

  “I work late most nights. We'd have time on the weekends together, but we wouldn't see each other much during the week.”

  “True. I also haven't met anyone else in your family besides Matt.”

  “I don't spend a lot of time with the rest of my family. I've got a few younger brothers, but they live further away. Matt already has a daughter, as does my other brother, Zach. Do you plan to have children?”

  “I want a few kids. My parents passed away, and I don't have any brothers or sisters. So… it's just me.”

  “Well maybe we should get married. I'm already ahead of my brothers in so many other areas, it's time I surpass them as far as a wife and kids.”

  “Are you proposing to me, Teddy?”

  “It would seem so.”

  A high-pitched beeping noise jerking Teddy from his memory indicated Sarah arrived home from her hospital shift and deactivated the house alarm.