Gathering Fallen Rocks Ch 10

Howard was pulling on the handle to the second drawer of his personal file cabinet, when Aunt Jean appeared at side door of her garage.

"Honey, Gail called. She sounded a little upset. She wants you to go to Atwood's office. She said you should come by before you go to work, but ... well, she did sound upset about something."

"Okay, I'll go on by there now. This is going to be a bigger job than I thought. I might need to box up some of this and take it with me."

* * *

"Hi Sweetheart, it looks like you'll are getting new furniture."

"Oh, is the truck here already? Atwood said they were going to deliver today, but I thought it would be later. I need to go tell them where to put things. He had to go to the bank for some kind of meeting. I think there was some confusion about the commercial file he closed yesterday."

"Aunt Jean said you wanted me to stop by on my way to work. She said you were upset about something. You want to tell me now or later?"

Gail looked at the door, to make sure no one was listening and whispered, "Howard, Atwood said we have to get a divorce. He said we've told people we are married and people think we are married. He said we've created a common law marriage. We have to get a divorce."

"Nope, I'm not going to divorce you. I might marry you for real, but I'm not going to divorce you. That's a hell of a way to propose to a woman, and I don't even have a ring to give you, but I'm not getting a divorce."

"Howard..."

"Gail, I'm going to work. We can talk about this later." He turned and walked out of the office, leaving Gail staring after him, her mouth open in astonishment.

Instead of trying to figure out such a confusing man as Howard Pleas, Gail went outside and began to tell the office supply deliverymen where each piece of furniture should be placed. Atwood told her there were several nice chairs for the front waiting room, plus a desk, a two-drawer file cabinet, two client chairs, and two bookcases for each office and all the tall metal lateral file cabinets should go into the back room. Every office would get a new office chair and she should use her judgment for everything else. She had to manage the space and she may as well decide where to place all the furniture. He planned to keep his smaller space for his one-man law firm and try to keep the commercial files on this side of the office.

She left the crew of men assembling the desks, file cabinets, and bookcases, to make a quick trip to the bank the abstract company used so she could open personal checking and savings accounts and sign up for a debit card. On her way back to the office, she stopped for hamburgers for herself and Petra and was back at the office, just finishing their lunch in the back room when Atwood walked in.

"Okay, girls, for the first time in I don't know how long, we don't have a rush closing on a Friday afternoon. Petra, go turn on the dumb telephone answering thing and we can have the rest of the afternoon without the telephones ringing. We can't do anything for anyone anyway, the telephone and computer people will be here all afternoon, and the best thing we can do is stay out of their way."

Gail started to say something, and then thought better of it. Instead, she asked Atwood, "I need to make some copies of all the Pleas paperwork, how much do I pay you for my copies?"

"Good Lord, Gail, if I can't afford for you to make a few personal copies, I better quit and go fishing right now. No, I'm teasing you. You just do what you want, I'm sure the extra hours I get out of you will more than pay for a few copies."

"Thank you."

While Petra was turning on the answering machine, Gail told Atwood what Howard said.

"Well, I'm not surprised. Howard is a lot like his dad. He may not go to mass all the time, but inside his head, he's Catholic. But you two have some other problems, too, I think." Atwood held up his hands, as if to say that he didn't want to hear about them. "And maybe you should concentrate on those other problems first. I'm not going to interfere, but you need to know that your old boss, Carlson Grayson, called me. He said a private investigator was asking questions, trying to learn if you were discharged for cause."

"Santos Aguirre," Gail said, nodding her head.

"What does Santos have to do with this?"

"Atwood, how much do you charge for a retainer? I need some legal advice."

"Gimme a dollar and come into my office so I can make notes while you tell me what's happening."

When Gail was seated, she looked around for a moment, "My goodness, where did all the files go?" Atwood's office looked very different from the first time she sat down to interview for a job she'd had only a week, one she was beginning to love more with every hour she spent as a escrow officer.

"Bless Petra's heart, she's listened to me complain every time she put a new file on my desk. She boxed up everything she could. I think I can almost see the entire top of my desk and I haven't been able to do that in a couple of years. I put this expansion off too long and now I'm glad I did. It gave you a chance to get here. Did I tell you I'm happy you found us? I am very serious about this, Gail. I really am pleased. Now, you tell me what kind of a mess you think you are in and we will look for a solution. If I can't find one, we will go talk to a friend of mine who practices a different kind of law and he will help."

"I'm not sure where to start. Maybe I should tell you a little more about me, and part of why I came down here on vacation. I haven't done anything wrong, but I probably haven't always been very smart, either. I almost feel like I'm going to confession and I'm not one of those who goes to mass, but I think inside my head I'm also a Catholic, and it's going to be a real problem for Howard. I'm divorced, which he knows and I don't know how he feels about that."

For the next couple of hours Gail told Atwood about her parents and their professions, which he already knew about, but she also told about the year she lived with her father and why her mother took her to live with him, describing herself as a little punk. She mentioned her marriage, the abuse, and the reasons for the divorce. When she told Atwood about her boyfriend, she admitted it was very poor judgment on her part, but she did not try to make excuses. With all of those failures, including a few financial difficulties, and being pregnant, heaped on her, she just felt she had to get away from everyone and everything associated with that past and do some real soul searching, not knowing what she would discover, but hoping for some kind of revelation, so she could live with her mistakes.

Petra interrupted to say Gail and Atwood needed to tell the computer technician where the new computers and printers should be placed. In a few minutes, the telephone installers were asking for an idea of where the new instruments should be placed, and where they wanted the new instruments they were getting for the older space. Atwood finally located the rough drawing of the floor plan he'd used for the men who built the walls inside the new space, including where outlets for the computers and telephones were already in place. Furniture men, telephone installers and the two computer technicians worked around each other as the office space finally began to look like a place where business could be transacted.

Gail and Atwood took cups of freshly made coffee back to his office, where Gail tried to tell the next events in their proper sequence—of picking up Howard, not even sure why she did so, and the miscarriage, which she hated that it happened but it was probably for the best in the long run.

She grew progressively agitated, leaning forward in her seat, as she explained about all the times Santos just walked into Howard's house as if he owned it and how his threats became more and more frightening. When she described the interview with the sheriff and the border patrol agent, Atwood sat up and began to take a greater interest in her story, occasionally asking her to go back to a previous event and give him more information.

"I hate to tell you this," Atwood said, "but it looks like a real hornet's nest was swarming and you just stepped in and knocked the nest down. You have likely saved Howard's life, although that could be debated, and he has likely saved yours, too. When Howard was suddenly faced with the loss of his ranch, it raised such a cry of public indignation that Santos backed down, or at least the county backed down, and of course the bank helped Howard with the loan."

"Atwood," Gail finally relaxed against the back of her chair, "did anyone ever do a thorough search of tax records, payment histories, or anything like that? I know mistakes are made, but did anyone, like Howard, or someone on his side, do any investigating that the county records were correct?"

"Now, that, I cannot say. This office did not and there is only one other office in the county which might have, but it is unlikely. They really don't do very much of that kind of work and usually call me for any help they need or to issue a policy which the bank would have required."

"Is it possible the past due tax issue was manufactured?"

"Gail, anything is possible. There is not a single person in this town, or many of the surrounding towns, who doubts Santos is involved in some illegal activities, but proof has never been found. And there is no telling how many public officials are in his back pocket. He is a wily character, but someone, whom I will not name, is certainly providing him with some very good legal advice; at least that's how it appears to many of us on the other side of his largess. He and his ilk do not help the future of this county—or the three or four others right along the border."

Gail tried to describe the several generations-old information Howard vaguely recalled his father speaking of, that an ancestor of Santos' took land he was not entitled to, in a family dispute. However, her information was so sketchy she wasn't sure which generation it was, or how long ago the dispute occurred.

Atwood said the old files, in his wife's garage, might provide some information, but they might also need to go to the state land office if they had to research too many years of previous records. The county records were not terribly accurate, which had caused some problems for him in the past, and he had occasionally resorted to state records for clarification, mentioning that his wife often translated things for him. Although he read Spanish, it was her natural language and nuances of word usage were much more common in Spanish than in English.

Gail added, "And the spelling and handwriting is atrocious. We laughed so hard in the classes I took about the way words were spelled, particularly the documents of Stephen Austin's era."

"Yes," Atwood agreed.

"Well, I guess if those furniture men are finally finished putting all the big file cabinets in place, I can get my carpenter in here to build the shelves we need in that long room in the back. I had thought I would bring the files into the office a few at a time, but I'm so curious now, I'd like to see those old files, from twenty and thirty years ago, and maybe some older than that. I'll bet we have some answers there, even if it's not the answers we want."

"Atwood, I don't want to completely change your schedule. We're disrupted enough with the move."

He assured her that it was not something he could do overnight. However, it is a project he could start working on. Petra needed a car and Olivia's birthday was getting nearer. The sooner he began the more problems he could solve.

********

"Howard, don't look at me like that. I simply asked, if you and I could have a conversation. If I promise not to yell at you, would you promise not to walk out?"

"Alright, but I'm not getting a divorce." He sounded so adamant Gail knew she would not be able to persuade him today. "So if that's what you want to talk about, we don't need to have a discussion."

When Gail got off work, she drove by Frank's house and asked Howard to take a ride with her. She did not want to have a discussion sitting on the bed, nor did she want to drive all the way out to the ranch. Howard suggested they go to the park. They were sitting in a public park, large plastic glasses of ice and sodas sweating on the picnic table between them, and trying to have a civilized conversation.

"I want you to tell me again what you can remember your father telling you, or at least tell me if you have remembered anything new that you didn't already tell me."

"No, I really don't have any new information. I remember once, and only once, Dad saying that our name, Pleas, is actually the first name, not the last name of someone. He said it happened when someone said "That land belongs to

Blaz

and this land is

Plea's

," you know with the apostrophe before the s, whatever that means. The way he told it, the son of one brother started using the last name Pleas and the son of the other family used the last name Blaz, or maybe Blaze, because their actual last name was too hard for people to say."

Crossing her fingers, Gail asked, "Do you know what the original name was?"

"No, I think Dad said it once, but it was like six or seven syllables. The only thing I can remember is that the first syllable sounded like

Magoo

, or maybe it was

Maguna

. I was young enough to associate it with the cartoon character Mister Magoo. Not much help, am I?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's better than remembering the last syllable. Now can we discuss what I told you this morning?"

"Yes, as long as it's a discussion and not a demand that we get a divorce."

"Okay, I understand. Howard, this is very hard for me. I feel like I'm intruding into your life. You have no idea how much I appreciate what you have done for me, for the past two weeks. But it's not fair for me to tie you to something like this."

"Sweetheart, I don't feel like I'm being forced to do anything that I didn't want to do, anyway."

"I may get this all confused, and you can help me a little too, I hope." Gail took a deep breath, "Both my mother and father are Catholic. I was christened when I was a baby, and I don't think I've ever set foot in a Catholic church, but I think I'm still Catholic, although I don't know what that means. My mother threw a fit when I filed for a divorce. I mean she yelled and ... all that stuff ... anyway, I'm a divorced woman. Lord, why is this so hard for me? Never mind, anyway, from what Atwood said, it's not really a common law marriage, it's legally an

Informal Marriage

. All it takes is for a man and a woman to live together as husband and wife, represent to others that they are married, and agree with one another that they are married. I think on the first two, we've pretty well done a bang up job."

"Gail, I am Catholic, and I know what it means. I'm not right with the church and I don't go to mass, but I know, and that has nothing to do with it. If you wanted to get your marriage annulled, it wouldn't take a priest but one second to help you. Just show him the police report and it would be a done deal."

"Oh boy," Gail said, shaking her head, "I just ... it's going to get ... I don't know how ... dammit, why can't I say, what I want, without getting so confused? This is a community property state, alright? Do not get angry until I tell you all of it, okay? In a community property state, there is a duty-to-support law, which means each spouse has to financially support the other. Debts which one incurs, the other owes. Money that comes into the marriage, I mean like wages, is joint money. Your income, my income, it's combined, even if we have separate accounts. I have debts I'm still paying off, from my marriage. I don't want you to be obligated on those. Technically it's not supposed to happen, but it does, all the time."

"I don't care anything about that," Howard shook his head. "Besides, my debts are probably a lot worse than yours are. I'm still paying on all those taxes."

"Yes, and that's the next one. See, even if I never write a check for anything for the ranch, if you never take a dime from me, I still acquire homestead rights to the ranch and from the date of our marriage, some interest in its value. The taxes are paid, what's left is a bank loan. If joint income is used to pay off that bank loan, it gives me equity. Why is this so hard for me to explain?"

"Gail, I told you, I don't care anything about that." Howard continued his original statement that whatever reasons she can come up with, he still did not care.

Gail was a little surprised that Howard sat so calmly, and discussed things and still maintained they were of little importance to him. She tried to tell him every disadvantage she could think of, but he just calmly said he didn't care.

"Then please, if you can, tell me what you do care about."

"You."

"Yes, and I care about you, too. But you can't disregard every thing I've told you, as if it's a gnat you can swat. I sit here and I see the little wheels and gears inside your head turning, thinking, and I know something is going on in there, but you won't tell me what it is and I can't guess."

Howard clamped his hands on top of his head and said, "Then I guess I better slow them down so I can explain it to the little woman, huh?" When Gail grinned and nodded, he said, "I wish I knew how to say the things I know as well as you can. I will speak bluntly. For the past week, I have had a very delicious woman in my bed and I can't touch her. She wears these tiny little scraps of underwear and they drive me crazy because I can't figure out what holds them up."

Gail blushed furiously, started to hide her face in her hands and Howard reached across to pull her hands down to the table. "No please, Baby, don't hide from me. It's been a little over one week since Doctor Jackson said we had to wait at least a week, two if we could. Every time I think about touching you, I know I can't. I also know what it means for the church's three requirements of conjugal love and also about the sacrament of matrimony. And that is what holds me back."

Gail stood and began to back away from the table, "Howard, you cannot, no, you cannot..."

Howard followed her, catching up with her and putting his arms around her, to hold her and perhaps to avoid having to look at her, when he said, "Sweetheart, I don't know what love is. I've heard it is called the all consuming passion a man has for one woman, but I've never found a woman I felt anywhere near something like that for. At least I'd never met one until a couple of weeks ago, I think. See, I'm still not sure. But I want to find out, and I can't if I agree to this divorce. But that's not the real reason."

Trembling, Gail said against his shirt, "Then please tell me, what is the real reason, you won't even consider what I've told you? We need to get a divorce."

"Every morning when you leave for work, I want to glue myself to you. If I can't do that, I want to sit in my truck outside your office and follow you around to make sure you are safe. When I know where you are, I'm alright. When I don't, I want to find you and put you where I can see you."

"Why, Howard? You aren't jealous? At least I don't think you are."

"No, Baby, I'm not a jealous man, but I'm protective, particularly of something or someone I consider mine. I do not want you to come to any harm. I haven't said anything, because I didn't want to scare you." Howard paused for a moment, took her hand, and led her back to the picnic table. "Come back over here and sit down."

When they were seated, Howard put his arm around Gail and said, "I think I need to apologize to you, first of all. So, I'm sorry, I guess. I really have no right to meddle in your affairs. But I watched you stand up to Holden Ramsey like you were ten feet tall and I watched you almost crumble to pieces when he left. I don't know how hard this has been on you, but I can imagine. You said something a little while ago about a gnat I could swat. That's sort of how I've viewed Santos, all these years. It's only been since the tax thing that he's gotten bolder, like he was just playing before and now he's serious."