Black Swan (39 page)

    So we idled for the next few hours, relishing the waning afternoon, for the moment unencumbered by earthbound attachments or obligations. It was a lovely interlude, utterly violated by the arrival of Jackie Swaitkowski, whom I was nonetheless happy to see.

    "Oh good," she said. "You're all here. Maybe we can have an adult conversation."

    Jackie was a midsized woman with an unruly mass of kinky red hair and a freckled face that rarely expressed anything short of relentless determination. Nearing forty and the victim of an unforgiving excess of natural energy, she still looked a little like the fallen captain of the cheerleading squad.

    I told her if she wanted to sit with the grown-ups she'd have to drag her own Adirondack out of the storage shed at the other end of the property, which she did with surprisingly modest complaint.

    "I've been back and forth with the Con Globe attorneys a few times and I think we're close to a final figure," she said, clenching a bottle of white wine between her thighs and pulling out the cork. Amanda handed her a glass which she filled to the brim.

    "Nice to see you, too," I said.

    "Oh, right," said Jackie. "Hi, Sam, how're you doing? Fine? Good. How about you, Amanda? Okay, too? Great. I've written up the papers, so all I have to do is drop in the end figure. Which won't be insubstantial. Burton's been involved throughout the whole process, so you know the legalities will be bombproof. Please feel free to weigh in at any time," she said to Burton. He lifted his glass in acknowledgment.

    Entranced by Jackie's arrival, Eddie generously offered her the next chance to toss a sodden, mangled tennis ball. She knew there'd be no refusing.

    "Okay," she said, wiping her hands on her tan jeans, "these are Sam's instructions. Are you ready for this?" she asked Amanda.

    "I'm never ready for anything," said Amanda.

    Jackie read from a piece of legal paper she'd taken out from the inside pocket of her leather jacket and unfolded on her knee.

    "'Eighty percent of the proceeds from the settlement of the intellectual property class action case against Consolidated Global Energies and its successors shall be put in an irrevocable trust. The trustee shall be Burton Lewis. The sole beneficiary of the trust is Allison Acquillo. At the sole written direction of Ms. Acquillo, the trustee may also make such disbursements as shall be specified by Allison Acquillo to her father, Sam Acquillo.' I've got to work on the legal language a little, but you get the gist," said Jackie.

    It took Burton and Amanda a bit to absorb the gist, but after a respectful lapse of time, Burton said, "Interesting."

    "It's nuts," said Jackie. "He's put no stipulations on how the money's to be spent."

    "However, it is specified that she may spend whatever she wants on Sam," said Burton, "if she wanted to."

    "Or not," said Jackie.

    "That's the point," said Burton.

    "If he did that to me, I'd kill him," said Jackie.

"I'm familiar with the impulse," said Amanda.

    "I love it when people talk about me in the third person when I'm sitting right here," I said.

    "What about the other twenty percent?" asked Burton.

    "Sam wants to keep ten, and make another foolish gesture with the other ten," said Jackie.

    We sat in silence, waiting for Jackie to explain what she meant.

    "He wants to give it to me," she finally said, relenting.

    "Not give, compensate," I said. "For all the legal help over the years. The dollar retainer was generous, I agree, but I think it's only fair to clear the rest of the ledger."

    "Nuts," repeated Jackie, an assertion neither contradicted nor endorsed by the others.

    "At least you're retaining ten percent for yourself," said Burton. "What are your plans for that?"

    "For some reason, I've been thinking about sailboats," I said.