Katarina Beche set down her groceries on the kitchen counter. Before she could turn toward the dining room, her mother spoke. “Rina, did you see Peter yesterday?”
Katarina’s shoulders slumped. “See him? Ma-ma, it was a
sentencing hearing. See him. Why do you ask such a question?” She opened a
cabinet door and began setting canned goods on the shelves.
“Well, what were you wearing?”
“Ma-ma!”
“Please not one of those black suits you think makes you
look all judge-like.”
“Yes, Ma-ma, and my hair was up and pulled back into a
bun, and I wore black flats, and almost no makeup.”
“Oh, Rina. Well it’s all too too much if you ask me. Is
he really going to be kept there for 10 years? Too too much.”
“Yes. Yes as long as Wasserman is chief justice. He is
adamant.”
“Wasserman is a pig, Rina.”
Katarina allowed a slight smile. “Well, he is that and he
is adamant.”
The older woman leaned against the refrigerator. “How was
Peter?”
Katarina paused. “Ma-ma, Peter was Peter. And I was—am—a
justice. Why belabor the encounter. I handed down the sentence to a convicted
felon. An enemy of the state.”
“Fine. I see you didn’t buy anything fresh. I’ll go down
to the market and bring back some good food. Oh, and the bakery too. Is his
wife still missing in action?”
“I don’t know about any of that.” Katarina poured herself
a glass of Merlot.
“What of his son and his granddaughter?”
“He won’t be allowed to see his granddaughter.”
“Rina!”
“Well, Ma-ma.” She pushed a glass of wine toward her
mother.
“Pig Wasserman’s work, no doubt.”
“Peter is a convicted felon. He’s lucky to have escaped
charges of treason. He’s alive.”
“Peter Linton wouldn’t harm flies much less topple the
country. He will die there.”
“I do wonder how many visitors will be allowed. His son,
yes. Maybe, but not many, some of his colleagues from the university. I don’t
know.” Katarina went into the living room and sat down next to the fireplace.
“Peter’s a good man. Maybe too honest, but don’t you
think he is a good man?”
“I don’t think, Ma-ma, not about Peter.”
“Pish. Well, no matter he is in jail and that is that I
suppose.”
“He’s not in jail.”
“You know what I mean. He’s locked up. For 10 years,
Rina.” She turned and looked out the front window to the street below. “Such a
long time.”
“None of that is for me to say. Oh, did you want me to
reorder Vogue?”
“Yes, and People.”
“Yes, Ma-ma. Are you going to the market?”
“Yes, yes. Don’t worry, I won’t bring up—you know—again.”
“Okay. Could you get us two baguettes and something
sweet?”
“Of course, my dear girl. For you, the moon. I’ll be back
in an hour unless I run into some of the girls. I’ll text you. Smooches.”
Katarina blew her mother a kiss and waited for the sound
of the door closing. She stepped over to the sofa and slipped off her shoes.
Settling back into the cushion, she stretched her legs out to the coffee table.
Eyes closed, just one more thought on the matter, that
Peter Linton is a damn fool after all.
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