“I’ll second that. Delaney’s a playboy, so keep your guard up,” said Dave.
“You’re concerned for nothing,” said Megan. “I don’t make the same mistakes twice.”
“You’ve got a great kid, though,” said Dave. “So that wasn’t a mistake.”
“My son,” Megan began, and to her surprise, started choking up, “is the best child in the world.” A new thought struck her about this assignment. “I need to keep Delaney away from Josh.” She walked back and forth. “I’ll have to figure out...”
Dave’s hand went up again. “Slow down a minute. This whole project might not last very long at all. Think about Sandy Koufax. It took him six years — six years, Megan—before the whole game clicked for him and his brilliance on the mound showed up as no-hitters and perfect games. Brian Delaney is just about at that same point.” He looked at her and shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe…?’
She tilted her head back. “From your mouth to God’s ears, as my mom always says. With Delaney, we really will need divine help to perform an attitude adjustment or…should I say, a baseball miracle?”
“Ha! You’re right. I hope you have a direct line to the bigger boss upstairs.”
Click here to read the rest of the story!
Chapter One - The Broken Circle
January 1995
Boston
A knock at her grad school apartment door pulled Lisa Delaney away from Commonwealth of Massachusetts vs. Torcelli Construction. Eyes burning, she rubbed her lids while, from her iPod, she heard Bryan Adams insist that everything he did, he did for her. Old song. Easy words. If the man really wanted to impress, he could take her contracts exam in the morning.
She pushed away from her desk, covered in law books and case briefs, and rose from her chair, stretching, bending and groaning. Her knees creaked like an arthritic old lady’s. Shaking her head, she emitted a long sigh and promised herself a gym visit the next day—after the exam.
A second knock echoed, this time more impatiently
“I’m coming. Hang on.” Nimble again, she rushed across the room and opened the door.
Her eyes widened, her stomach began to roil as she looked at two uniformed state troopers, snow melting on their jackets, cop faces in place. Her thoughts raced with possibilities. Classmates? Mike? Oh, please, not Mike.
“Are you Lisa Delaney?”
She stared at bad news and froze. All of her. Nothing worked. Not her mind, tongue, or breath. Perhaps her heart had stopped, too. One man coughed. The other repeated the question.
“I-I’m Lisa.”
“Are your parents’ names Robert and Grace Delaney?”
Oh, God, yes! Her heart raced at Mach speed, but she couldn’t feel her legs at all. “What happened?”
“May we come in, Ms. Delaney?” Taller cop.
She nodded and pulled the door wider, but the knob slipped through her sweaty hands and she lost her balance.
“You might want to sit down.”
As though moving underwater, she struggled into the closest chair.
“I’m afraid there’s been an accident on the turnpike,” began the quiet-till-now officer. “A fatal accident.”
“Not…not my…my parents?” She barely got the words out before the officers’
sympathetic silence answered her question.
“But that’s impossible! I just spoke to my dad…”
“When was that, ma’am?”
When? When? “I think…maybe…last…last night….” Her voice drifted. Daddy had been checking up on his eldest, his numero uno child, joking with her about an apple a day. Staying healthy. A convenient excuse to call. To keep in touch with the one who’d left home. She’d understood his M.O. a month after arriving at school. Sweet, loving man. A man with a phone.
“Wh-what…?” Her throat closed.
The cops seemed to understand her intent. “The official investigation is ongoing, but according to preliminary reports, the other driver lost control of his vehicle and did a one-eighty.”
“Drunk? But…but it’s the middle of the week.” As if that fact could change things.
“The driver’s blood alcohol was normal.”
“Then what…? The road…?”
“Icy conditions contributed. The temperature drops at night, and your folks were approaching at just the wrong moment. There were no survivors. I’m very sorry.”
She nodded. No survivors? Mom and Dad? She wanted to cover her ears.
The other officer looked at his notes and said, “The Woodhaven police are with your brothers and sisters.”
