In Search Of Dreams

Episode 11

Lori steps through the doors to Carter
Law Offices at 3:12 p.m. Her palms are
sweating, and she knows it’s not because of the
humidity.

“May I help you?” It’s the perky blonde from the
phone. Lori’s lips twitch a moment, biting back
her smirk when she sees that her mental image
of Vivian was quite accurate.

“Yes, hello, I’m Loretta Thompson. I have an
appointment with Robert Carter.” She steps
forward.

“Oh! Oh, yes, I’ll just let him know,” she says,
slightly flustered. She quickly picks up the
phone. “Mr. Carter? Your 3:15 is here.”

“What? No, I haven’t seen him – oh, he’s just
coming back in now.”

“Lori!” Marcus exclaims, seeing her in the lobby.

“Yes, sir.” Vivian hangs up and looks at Marcus.

“Marcus, young Mr. Carter has asked that
you escort Miss… Thompson? back to his
office.” She puzzles at them, wondering how
Marcus seems to know this girl so well.

“I can do that,” Marcus nods, shifting the parcel
in his hands to offer Lori his elbow. “My lady?”

Lori looks sideways at him, clearly wanting to
ask him if he’s lost his damn mind. Marcus
nudges her with his offered elbow. “Come on.

Let’s go see Rob.”

Lori sighs and takes his arm, ignoring the
incredulous look Vivian is giving them as they
walk past her and through another set of doors.

“What are you doing here?” Marcus asks her
quietly, not wishing to disturb anyone.

“I’ve hired Robert,” she says. “My father’s
death…”

“Was he killed?” Marcus gasps.

“Not… intentionally. But I now have reason to
believe that it could have been prevented.”

“Ah, that’s what this,” he indicates the large,
thick envelope in his other hand, “must be
about.”

They reach a door and Marcus opens it without
knocking.

“Loretta, nice to see you again,” Robert
stands immediately, reaching his hand out to
shake hers. “Marcus, nice to see that you’ve
learned how to knock.” He smirks at his friend,
who merely shrugs.

His hand is large and warm, squeezing hers
gently but not too hard. Her hand feels soft and
delicate within his, like a tame bird.

“I only wish it were under better
circumstances,” she says, smiling sadly.

“Please, sit,” Rob indicates a chair and holds
his hand out for the package from Marcus.

“Thank you, Marcus. Excellent timing,” he says,
raising an eyebrow at him.

“I thought so,” Marcus replies. Robert’s phone
rings.

“Excuse me,” he says, going to his phone and
lifting the handset. “Yes? He just got back. All
right, I’ll send him.”

He hangs up and looks at Marcus. “Pop needs
you.”

Marcus frowns. He’d been hoping he could stick
around and hear about Lori’s case. “Shouldn’t
keep him waiting, I guess,” he sighs, heading
out the door, closing it behind him.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Robert asks, sitting
behind his desk. “Coffee, tea, water, lemonade?”

“No, thank you,” Lori says, clutching her purse
in her lap.

“Are you nervous?” he asks, leaning forward
slightly.

“Yes. This is all new to me. Plus I don’t know
what I’m gettin’ myself into.”

“Me neither,” Rob admits, smiling at her. She
can’t tell if he’s kidding or if he’s being honest.

“You pullin’ my leg?”

“Um, not really. To be honest, this will be my
first case that doesn’t involve a traffic ticket.”

“How long you been practicin’ law, Mr.
Carter?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at
him.

“Rob,” he reminds her. “Almost four whole
months,” he says, pointing to his diploma on the
wall, dated May 1963. “So if you want to fire
me, now’s your chance.”

“What? No, I… no. I don’t want to fire you,” she
says, realizing that she wants Robert on this
case. There is something about him that I find
comforting. Reassuring. Like he’ll… protect me.

“Good, ’cause I’d’ve hated to have had to go
back to my dad and tell him I lost you after I
had to convince him to let me have you in the
first place,” he says, then his eyes widen when
her realizes how that might sound. “I mean,
your case… o’ course…”

Lori presses her lips together to keep from
laughing at him, but suddenly she feels more
relaxed. “What is all that?” she nods to the
packet from Marcus.

“Ah, I did my homework today, Teacher,” he
says, opening the envelope and sliding out a
stack of paper. “Hospital reports,” he waves
them at her. “I’ve also got information about
your father, you, and Elliot.” He holds up three
sheets of paper in turn with each name.

“What kind of information? Where’d you get all
that?”

“It’s public record, Loretta. These,” he
motions to the personal reports, “I got from the
Motor Vehicle Department. Nothing in here that
ain’t on your driver’s license. Glad you have one,
by the way.”

“Oh.” So he knows my weight, she finds herself
thinking, and wonders why she cares.

“Still waiting on work records. I don’t reckon
Alined is going to make this very easy for us,
I’m afraid.”

“I can’t say as I’m surprised,” Lori says.

Robert peruses some of the papers. “Your
mother has already passed away, I see,” he says
quietly, flipping through the papers.

“Yes, five years ago.”

“My mama died ten years ago,” he says.

“Cancer,” Lori says.

“Heart attack. Didn’t even know her heart was
bad.”

They ponder one another a moment, then Rob
clears his throat and shuffles through his papers
again.

“I brought a few names for you,” Lori says,
redirecting the conversation.

“Oh?”

Lori pulls a slip of paper out of her purse and
hands it to him.

“Percy Andersen, Duncan Matthews, and Ezra
Johnson,” Rob reads.

“Percy Andersen is the warehouse manager. He
was my father’s boss. Duncan was Daddy’s
friend. He went with his… body… to the hospital.

And Ezra was the man driving the forklift that…”

“I see,” Rob nods, flipping to the hospital
report, his sharp blue eyes scanning the report
quickly. Lori watches as he tries not to wince
at what he reads.

“Is it that bad?” she asks.

“You don’t know?”

“I didn’t want all the details. I wasn’t ready to
hear them. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

“Loretta, you likely will not have a choice but
to hear them if we pursue this case. Probably
more than once.”

“Okay,” she nods.

Robert sighs. “Are all these men colored?” he
asks.

“Mr. Andersen – Percy – is white. Looks like he
stepped off an Army Recruitment poster.”

“He’s willing to help us out?”

“I reckon he is. He came out to Daddy’s funeral
with the others from the warehouse to pay his
respects. And that’s when they told me about
the repair requests.”

“Repair requests?” Rob starts making notes in
a notebook now.

She nods, going on to detail what the three men
told her that day.

“I need to talk to Percy Andersen,” Robert
mutters, circling Percy’s name. “I hope he has
copies of those requests.”

“I put the warehouse office number there for
you,” she points to the paper she gave him.

“Thank you, that’s very helpful.”

Robert turns his attention back to the personal
forms, tucking the hospital report away, not
wanting to look at it any more.

“Interesting,” he says.

“What is it?” asks Lori.

“I guess I didn’t realize that you were older than
your brother,” he says.

“Yes, I’m older by almost exactly one year. Our
birthdays are within days of each other, in fact.”

“Did your parents make you share parties?” he
asks, setting the paper down, interested.

“Well, they didn’t make us do anything,” she
says. “It was just what we did.” Why does he
care?

Rob nods, trying to understand.

“You see, you can’t miss what you never had.

For years, all we knew was one cake with two
names,” she presses on.

“Oh,” Rob answers dumbly.

“It doesn’t bother me at all,” she goes on. “The
way I see it, Mama was being smart. When
you’re tryin’ to make a dollar out of fifteen
cents, you don’t make two cakes when your
children’s birthdays are four days apart.”

“What about blowing out your candles?” Robert
asks.

“Ah,” Lori says, smiling, “we did do that right.”

“How so?”

“Well, we would do it twice. El would go first;
we would sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him and he
would blow out the candles, and then Mama
would put one more candle on the cake, light
them all again, and then they would sing ‘Happy
Birthday’ to me and I would get my turn to blow
them out.”

Robert smiles, picturing it in his head. “That’s a
long way to stretch,” he says after a moment.

“What is?”

“Fifteen cents into a dollar.”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” she says
quietly.

“I’m trying,” he says.

“I guess that’s what’s important.”

“I’m glad you called me, Loretta,” he says. “I
really think we have a strong case against
Alined. Especially if Percy Andersen is willing to
be a man and stand up for what is right.”

“I think he may be. Daddy always spoke highly
of him, even though he’s young and just showed
up one day. Alined brought him in and told them
that Percy was their boss now, and that was it.”

“Is Percy Andersen related to Eugene Alined?”

Rob asks, narrowing his eyes shrewdly.

“Don’t know. Could be. It’d sure make sense,
but I hope not. He might not be willing to fight
his own kin.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Robert scowls.

“On the other hand, why would he tell me what
he did if he wasn’t?” she muses.

“I’ll find out,” he promises.

“Um, Rob?” Lori says suddenly. “Is there a
way we can work on this without taking these
men away from their jobs? I mean, I don’t want
them to have to take time off and maybe lose
money over this.”

“I understand. I’ll meet with them in the
evenings if I have to. That’s not a problem.”

“I hate to ask you to take your personal time…”

“I don’t have much of a social life,” he shrugs.

“I mainly hang around with Marcus, and he plays
at Gareth’s most nights anyway.”

“Do you go see him play?”

“Sometimes. You should… you should come see
him sometime. He’s really good.”

“I might.”

“Yeah, so if I’m not over there, I’m at home,
usually doing somethin’ work-related anyway.”

“No… no girlfriend?” she asks, then immediately
wishes she hadn’t. Why did you ask that, Lori?

His love life is none of your damn business!

He smiles, seeing her flush slightly. “No
girlfriend. Been too busy focusin’ on my career.

So don’t you worry about takin’ up my personal
time.”

“Thank you,” she says. “And, um…”

“Yes?”

“I’m not sure how I’m gonna be able to pay you.
I’ve got a good job and Daddy had some money
squirreled away, but…”

“Loretta,” Robert says, holding his hands up.
“We don’t need to worry about that now. But if
it makes you feel better, I’ll tell you what: if I
can’t win this case for you, you don’t have to
pay me.”

“But…”

“It’s only fair, Loretta. You came to me for
help. I’m gonna try and help you. But if I fail, I
shouldn’t get paid.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, looking at her hands.
Even if you win, I probably won’t charge you very
much, he thinks, but says nothing. “What does
Elliot think of this?”

“I… haven’t told him yet,” Lori admits.

“Ah,” Rob says. “He’ll be all right with it, you
think?”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she says. “He’s always
goin’ on about takin’ on ‘The Man,’ you know.”

“O’ course he is,” Rob chuckles. “However, I
think his involvement in this case should be
limited to… a supporting role. He may be too…”

“Volatile?” Lori supplies, smirking.

“Right. We’ll keep you in the forefront, use your
pretty face to gain sympathy. Sorry if this all
sounds callous,” he apologizes.

“A little, but I… I think I understand,” she says.
My pretty face?

“Good,” he smiles. “Plus you’re educated and
well-spoken. That will help, too. Loretta, this
is going to be hard. But I think we can win. If
the Lord is with us and I get all the pieces in
place where I want them, I think we can do
something to make things safer for your father’s
friends. And put Eugene Alined in his place as
well.”

“Thank you, Rob. You don’t know what this
means to me,” she says, her eyes misting
slightly. She opens her purse to pull out her
handkerchief and sees his there as well. I forgot
I brought it.

Lori dabs her eyes with her own handkerchief,
then takes Rob’s out and sets it on the desk.

“What’s this?”

“Your handkerchief. I got the blood out.”

“That’s yours,” he says, pushing it back over
towards her. “I gave it to you.”

“Robert, what am I going to do with a hanky that
has someone else’s initials on it?”

He just smiles. “Wipe your nose, I guess,” he
says with a shrug.

“Rob…”

“I know I’m being ridiculous, but I gave it to you
and so that means it’s yours.”

“You are ridiculous,” she says, but she snatches
the cloth off the desk and stuffs it back into her
purse anyway.

“My pop gets me a box of those things every
year for Christmas. I have so many of them that
I have half a mind to… get them all stitched
together and use ’em as a bedsheet.”

Lori laughs now, covering her mouth with her
hand.

“There now, that’s a good sound.” He looks at
his watch. “But I should let you go home,” he
says, reaching for a few more papers he has on
his desk.

Did he sound sad that I’m leaving? Do I feel sad
to be leaving?

“I just need your autograph in a few places, and
I’ll start doing some digging. And I’ll need your
phone number. So I can contact you about the
case,” he says. Of course she knows it’s so you
can contact her about the case, dummy. Why else
would you need her phone number?

Rob slides the forms across the desk to her
and holds out a pen for her. As she takes the
pen, her fingers brush his for a split second.

Why does my stomach feel like that every time I
touch his hand? “Um, where?” she asks, pen
poised over the page, her eyes quickly scanning
the document.

He points, and she signs. He flips to the next
page, points, and she signs. He slides his
notebook over to her and she writes her phone
number on it. He takes the pen back and writes
“Loretta” beside it.

“Most people call me Lori,” she says, noticing
he’s been calling her by her full name the entire
time she’s been there.

“I remember,” he says. “You told me that when
we met the first time.”

She peers at him. “But you’re going to keep
calling me ‘Loretta’ aren’t you?”

“I like it better.”