He rubbed her hand. “Let it go, don’t talk. Just rest. I’m here,” he said, and Bennie could hear the sadness lingering in his tone. A memory of a headline floated into her brain, from the newspaper clipping Sam had given her. The one about the cadet who had died. What had it said?
“So if something goes wrong on your watch, it’s your fault?”
“Sure,” David answered, without hesitation.
“Why?”
“I’m the captain, the head coach, the commander. I’m responsible for what goes wrong.”
Bennie nodded. She used to think that way too. Until now. “Can I have some more water?”
“Of course,” he said, and they went through their water drill again, leaving Bennie with a scratchy but moistened throat, which was all she needed.
No time like the present. “I read that about a cadet who died during SEAL training. What happened?” Bennie asked, then closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see his face. He’d be too proud, so she saved face for him. Literally.
David fell silent for a moment. “You know about that?”
Bennie waited, eyes closed.
“I don’t want to talk about that now. This isn’t the time or the place.”
“Why not?”
“You’re barely conscious.”
“Hey. Tell me.”
Bennie heard a deep sigh.
“Well, Cadet Wellington collapsed and died at one of our exercises, during Hell Week, which is the last week of training before graduation. Cadet Wellington was under my command.”
“What did he die of?”
“A heart attack. A defect of the mitral valve, which burst under the strain.”
“No one knew?”
“No one knew, not even Wellington. It was congenital. No exam revealed it, preinduction. Only an ECT would have given any sign of it, and they’re not required as part of our physical. His dad was a big cheese at the Pentagon, and they charged me.”
“I see.” Bennie kept her eyes closed. David’s voice sounded more hoarse than hers, and she’d bet his pain was worse too. “They cleared you of any wrongdoing, right?”
“Once the whole medical history came to light, yes.”
Bennie breathed easier. She’d normally never cross-examine with a question she didn’t know the answer to, but for the first time, she’d bet on the military. “The other cadets were fine, right?”
“Yes.”
“Nothing unusual about the exercise?”
“Standard for SEALs.”
Bennie considered it. “But you took some time off anyway, and the Navy let you.”
“Right.”
“Because you felt responsible.”
“I was responsible. I am responsible.”
Bennie winced, for him. “Do the parents blame you?”
“No.”
“Are they suing you, civilly?”
“No.”
Bennie paused, her eyes closed. “Maybe that’s why you run around, saving dogs and lawyers.”
There was silence.
Bennie opened one eye.
David’s face had darkened, his lips unmoving. He was looking out the window, but there was nothing to see this high up except the red brick of the building across the street and the slowly setting sun. Bennie took his hand, dragging her IV tubes with her like spaghetti.
“Am I right, David?”
He swung his head from the window and fixed Bennie in the saddest gaze she’d ever seen. “So what if you’re right? What’s the difference?”
“You suffer, and you don’t have to. Life isn’t about pain. It’s about joy. With the occasional threat of litigation.”
David didn’t smile.
“Did you like training cadets, before?”
“Loved it.”
“If it hadn’t happened, would you still be doing it?”
“Sure.”
Bennie knew what she had to say, but she was getting too tired to say it. And part of her didn’t want to. “Then you should go back,” she said anyway.
“I don’t know.”
“David.” Bennie collected her thoughts, but they kept coming undone. “All the golden retrievers in the world won’t make up for that boy. It was his heart that killed him. Not you.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
Bennie kept her eyes closed, but this time it really was fatigue. Her thoughts flitted from David to Alice to her mother, and she was wondering why some people took on so much responsibility, way too much, and other people took on so little, way too little, and how both types of people came to be the way they did.
“Bennie, you should rest now,” David said softly, and she could feel the bed fall slowly back down.
And her thoughts floated back to the clouds.
39
Yeah!” “Hurray!” “Welcome back, Bennie!” came the shouts as Bennie stepped off the elevator into the reception area and a very happy crowd. They were all there: Carrier, DiNunzio, and Murphy in front, then David, Sam, and even Julien, all surging toward her, shouting and calling.
“Boss! You’re back!” Carrier yelled, and Murphy was right behind her.
“Bennie, you look awesome!” Murphy squealed. “And no pantyhose! You’re learning, girl!”
DiNunzio was wet-eyed. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Bennie!” The associate hugged Bennie so hard it should have made her wince, but she felt too good to be back. It had been a month since the shooting, but right now it seemed like years ago.
“Thanks, DiNunzio,” Bennie said, and patted her little back. “It’s all right now, kiddo.” As soon as DiNunzio released her, David stepped forward, took her in his arms, and gave her a distinctly wonderful kiss.
“Wow!” Bennie said, when he put her back on her feet. “Was that your tongue?”
“That was a sneak preview. I don’t go back for another week,” David answered with a laugh, and Julien stepped forward and gave Bennie a light hug.
“I am so sorry,” Julien said into her ear, and she hugged him back.
“Forget it, and remember your promise, right? One year?”
Julien released her. “Six months, you got it.”
Suddenly Julien was pushed aside by Sam, who held two huge bouquets, one of red roses and another of white sweethearts. “Honey, you’re home! Take these!”
“Flowers?” Bennie asked, delighted. “From you, the red and the white?”
“Please.” Sam sniffed. “The red dozen are mine. The sweethearts are from Chief Judge Kolbert.”
“The chief?” Bennie plucked the florist’s card from the bouquet, opened it, and read it aloud with glee. “’Sorry I misjudged you. Lunch on me. Best, Kate.’ Wow!”
“And that’s not all, folks!” Sam extracted an envelope from the inside pocket of his custom blazer and handed it to Bennie. “Check this out.”
“What?” Bennie tucked the flowers into one arm, opened the envelope, and slid out some thick folded papers, then read them with amazement. “You paid off my mortgage? How did you do that?”
“Ask the femmes,” Sam answered, pointing at the associates.
Carrier gestured behind her, to a wall of boxes. “Well, those boxes are the new documents and files from St. Amien amp; Fils, and those next to it are from LensCo, and next to those are files from Tumflex, and the four on top are from FitCo.” She took a breath, and Murphy took over.
“The boxes against the wall are from Reiss, Inc., those by the coffee table are from CoreMed, and the last two are from MedLens and Cho amp; Company. They overflowed both conference rooms and all of our offices, so that’s why they’re here.” Murphy grinned. In the background, telephones were ringing and fax machines were zz-zzting. “Bottom line is, they’re all documents from all of our new and improved class-action clients. We got business coming out the wazoo!”
Bennie blinked. “You guys are working the cases yourselves?”
“Sure,” Murphy answered. “Just like you taught us. We’ve prepared fifty-five complaints for the class-action plaintiffs, all waiting for your signature. And in two weeks, with your approval, we file a motion to be appointed as lead plaintiff. We’re a shoo-in.”
“We’re on the move!” Carrier joined in. “And we need Marie back and two more secretaries and at least another investigator until Lou gets well. We need staff! Warm bodies! Help!”