Brother from another mother

Trevor [Part-2]

The rest of the afternoon felt like a blur. Mike felt as though he was experiencing an out-of-body experience: though his fingers rifled through file folders and his eyes scanned blocks and blocks of texts for subtleties and exploitable loopholes, his mind was far elsewhere.

It was with Trevor, back in high school, back when Mike had felt so terribly awkward with his gangly limbs and thick glasses. Trevor had been the cool one, the star wide receiver, the one who threw the best parties. Hell, he'd even gotten Jenny, the prettiest girl in the school, to go out with him. And most importantly, he hadn't ever let anyone dick around with Mike.

It was with Harvey, several weeks back, when they'd first met, and the best words he'd heard in years: "I'm inclined to give you a shot..."

It was with Trevor again, back in fourth grade, as they pressed grubby, bloody palms together. Trevor's voice, unnaturally solemn, ghosted through the years..." now we're official blood brothers."

Finally, finally, it was seven at night, and Mike declined to order food when the other associates did. He had other plans.

Thirty minutes later, he was locking his bike to a rusting rack, next to a sign that read Sobreto Village Nursing Home.

"I hope you brought a pizza," were the first words his grandmother said to him. "They tried to feed me stewed carrots today."

He couldn't quite bring the smile to his face. "Next time, Grammy, I promise. How does a supreme with extra cheese sound?"

She looked at him keenly, then, and he knew she had seen right through his attempt at levity.

"Uh-oh, I smell trouble," she said, as he took a seat at her bedside. She reached out a wrinkled hand for him, and he instinctively took it. "Tell me what's wrong."

Mike stared at their intertwined hands, trying to formulate the whirlwind of emotion in his heart into some sort of coherent thought.

"From the beginning, Michael," she prompted gently.

Amazing how even after all these years, she still gave him strength.

He took a deep breath and found the words came a bit more easily, "Trevor's been arrested in Montana. He's been charged with assault with a deadly weapon - a car - but he claims he's innocent. He asked me to go defend him, but when I brought it up with Harvey, he was - well, he won't let me go."

Her grip tightened slightly at mention of Trevor.

"He gave me a choice," Mike said, "I can go to Montana and do what I can for Trevor. But if I do...I - I - resign."

"Oh dear."

He searched her face closely. "Are you angry at me?"

"Heavens, why would I be?"

"I made you a promise, Grammy. I got my chance at a better life, and now I might throw it away."

"I always said that boy was a bad influence," she sniffed.

"He's my oldest friend," he said, helplessly. It came down to that. It always came down to that.

She pressed her lips together and didn't comment.

"You must be mad at someone. You're squeezing my hand harder than you have in years."

"Isn't it a wondrous thing what anger can do for your arthritis?" she quipped lightly, but she loosened her grip. "Oh Michael, you are correct. I am angry. In fact, I am quite cross with both those people who claim to be your friend."

"Harvey's my boss," he said automatically.

"And I always said the worst thing you can do is lie to yourself. You know Harvey is more than that. But that is a conversation for another time. The fact remains that now, at a time when he should be your friend, he is not doing a very good job of it."