Jury Woman, Part 2 of 6

August 1, Saturday

I WAITED until everyone was in the same room—a minor logistical feat—then turned off the television.

Warren looked up from his phone. Lily looked up from hers. Josh, on the floor with Tucker sprawled across his legs, raised his head with the mild suspicion of someone who'd learned that nothing good followed the sound of the TV going off.

"I was selected to serve on the jury… as an alternate."

They were silent, as if waiting for a punchline.

"As an alternate," Warren said. "What does that mean?"

"Alternates sit in the jury box with the regular jurors, but alternates don't participate in deliberations."

"Will you have to be there every day?" Josh asked.

I nodded.

Lily frowned. "That sucks. What time will you be home?"

I took a deep breath. "I won't be…coming home…until the trial is over."

Warren squinted. "Wait—what?"

"The jury is being sequestered. I told you this might happen."

"What does sequestered mean?" Josh asked.

"It means the jurors will live together in a hotel."

Lily laughed. "Like a reality show?"

I pursed my lips. "Kind of. Except this is actual reality. We'll be in the courtroom on weekdays."

"So you'll be home on the weekends," Warren said. Not a question.

"No," I said evenly. "I won't be coming home until the trial is over."

"They're kidnapping you?" Lily said. "Is that legal?"

"I see why you got a C in government."

"When do you leave?" Josh asked, clearly stricken.

"Tomorrow afternoon."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?"

"TOMORROW?"

Lily's mouth opened and closed, then opened again. "But school starts Monday!"

"I know."

"So—" She looked at her father, then back at me. "Who's going to do everything?"

"You're sixteen. You have your dad. Aunt Elaine is five minutes away."

"How long will this last?" Warren blurted.

"Possibly six months?"

"Six months?"

"Six months?"

"SIX MONTHS?"

"Or maybe less," I hedged.

Warren stood. His face was scarlet. "Isabel. This isn't going to work."

"I understand that feels true right now."

"It doesn't feel true, it is true." He chopped at the air. "I have a dealership to run. I can't just—"

"You should probably move back in," I said.

His face turned purple. "I'm not doing that."

"Then the kids can stay at your apartment."

He glared. "There's not enough room."

"Then you should probably move back in," I repeated calmly.

Warren's jaw hardened. He knew I was right, and he hated me in that moment.

Josh groaned. "Who's gonna take care of us?"

"You're going to take care of yourselves. You can cook. Do your own laundry. Get yourself in and out of bed on time."

Warren pulled his hand over his mouth. "What is this trial? What's it about?"

"I can't discuss it."

"Isabel—"

"I cannot discuss it. That's not me being difficult, Warren. That's the law. I took an oath."

"You're going to be gone for six months, and you can't say why?"

"That's correct."

The doorbell saved me. I'd asked Elaine to come over and bring me clothes she could spare from her closet.

She breezed in with two garment bags draped over one arm and a tote in each hand, looking the way she always looked—put-together, purposeful, slightly ahead of whatever room she'd just walked into.

She read the atmosphere in approximately two seconds.

"I'll take that as my cue," she said, nodding toward the hallway. "Come show me your closet so we know what you're missing."

We retreated to my bedroom and closed the door.

"You got a nice tan," I remarked. "Did you have fun?"

"A cruise is always fun. I drank gallons of rum."

I couldn't even remember what rum tasted like. When had I become such a dud?

"I brought business casual stuff," she said. "And threw in a couple of suits, just in case. This is so exciting! You, sitting on a federal case!"

"Shhh," I warned her. "I haven't told Warren. He'd explode."

She frowned. "I'd like to see that."

"Besides, I'm just an alternate."

"Stop downplaying your role—you're important."

Elaine laid the garment bags across the bed and unzipped the first one. Structured blazers. Silk blouses. A pair of dark trousers I would never have bought for myself.

"I'm not sure I should be gone this long," I said. "The kids—"

"Will survive. We survived summers with just Dad when Mom was sick." She held a blazer up against me. "They need this, Isabel. Not your absence specifically, but the experience of your absence."

I sat on the edge of the bed. "I know you're right."

"I usually am." She wasn't wrong often enough for me to argue. "Besides, I'll be nearby."

"That might be more than you're bargaining for."

"I'll bill you later." She unzipped the second bag. "Now. Tell me everything about this case."

"Elaine."

"Just the broad strokes."

"No broad strokes. No narrow ones either."

She looked at me with barely-contained delight and drew her fingers across her lips in a slow zipper motion. Then she gave a little squeal.

I couldn’t help but laugh. And I gave in to the little thrill of anticipation bubbling in my chest.