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"Now we can catch up properly," Blanc said with a grin, setting a plate of tea cookies down in front of Helen.
Helen returned his smile. "Finally. I've missed you."
"I've missed you, too. How were your last few weeks of school?"
"Oh, they were fine. It's gettin' hot in Alabama, though. Field day was a rough one, let me tell you. At least the kids had a water balloon fight. Lucky little devils. We just had to stand there roastin' alive and makin' sure nobody died."
Blanc laughed. "Chaperonin' third graders in southern June heat seems like cruel and unusual punishment."
"It sure is." Helen took a sip of her tea. "Phillip says life's been uneventful lately."
"They have. He likes it that way, I'm goin' a little stir crazy."
"Been spending all your time in the bath?" Helen teased.
"No. Not that bad. Phillip says I've been a tad bit sulky, though."
"He mentioned that while you were getting the tea."
"He worries entirely too much."
"He's your husband. It's his job to worry."
"I'm not a child, Helen," Blanc said. He didn't quite roll his eyes, but the tone was there.
"I never said that. He has a reason to worry, in this instance." Helen hesitated. "Speaking of. How are things? Y'know, since your mom passed."
Blanc took a deep breath. "They've been better, but we weren't close, as you know. I hadn't spoken to her since my father died a decade ago."
"I'm sure it's still hard. I didn't get along too well with my mama, but I was still sad when she was gone. How did you feel visitin' home?"
"Hot," Blanc said with a rueful smile. "Felt like the eternal damnation Mama always said I was headed for, but I missed Louisiana, despite it all. And Phillip was there, which helped. Funeral was miserable, though." Blanc sipped his tea. He was quiet for a moment. "I just could never quite figure her out. She was a puzzle I couldn't crack, and it damn near drove me mad for years. When I was a child, I knew she loved me, knew it like I knew my own name. I was dead certain nothing would ever change that. She protected me from my father, when she could."
Helen reached across the table and put her hand over Blanc's, giving him a squeeze.
"Then she found out I was gay. Or, got confirmation, at least. I believe she had her suspicions well before then, but eventually she was forced to confront it when I was fifteen. I was sneakin' around with the neighbor's boy and I wasn't quite as careful as I should've been. She stopped protectin' me then."
"Your father was a mean old bastard, I take it?"
"That he was. The meanest. Everybody talked about it and nobody did anything. He was a police detective, you know. Well-regarded. I have him to thank for makin' me realize how rotten the law enforcement system is, how built on brutality and bloodshed. He was nothin' but a schoolyard bully who never grew up and someone still decided to give him a gun and a badge and a position of authority."
"So many powerful men are nothin' but schoolyard bullies," Helen spat. "Look at Miles, the thievin' delusional dickhead he is. They're all the same, ain't they? The judge who listened to him over Andi is no different than Miles at the end of the day. Power-hungry and biased and convinced they're above right and wrong."
Blanc sighed. "The world is so riddled with injustice. Crawlin' with it. I wish I could say that the whole reason I do what I do is because all I want to do in life is fight it, but that's not true. Partly, yes, but mostly it's because it interests me."
"I'm glad you do it, no matter the reason. You let me get justice in a way that didn't rely on Miles gettin' a sentence through legal means. Court of public opinion's been a real bitch to him. Everyone sees him for what he is now. A snivelin' little snake-in-the-grass. Couldn't've done it without you." Helen gazed out at the city for a moment. "I'm glad we nailed the son-of-a-bitch. I am. It just... It doesn't bring her back."
It was Blanc's turn to give Helen's hand a squeeze. "I know. I'm so sorry."
"It's harder in the summer, y'know? With nothin' to do. And I feel like there's not enough punishment in the world severe enough for what Miles did. I know he's lost everything. It still doesn't feel like enough. And then I get so caught up in it and I can't let it go. I need to let it go. I know that. I feel like I'm goin' crazy. And I couldn't let any of that anger out while the trial was goin' on. Every time Miles said some bullshit, I just had to sit through it and ignore him because I knew that the second I 'acted up' in any way it would be used against me. Ain't that the stupidest shit? Men get to throw tantrums about nothin'. Meanwhile, I've lost my sister. I've lost my sister and I have to be civil to the man who took her from me. And don't even get me started on tryin' to tell everyone that it was her ideas Miles stole, not the other way around. A mediocre white man so full of bullshit he's burstin' at the seams can become a billionaire without even tryin'." Helen bit her lip. "My sister was a genius. Everyone could see that Andi was a genius. How did they all forget so quick?"
"Well, everyone knows now, thanks to Miles's merry band of cowards turnin' on him the second the wind changed." Blanc softened. "But I hear you. Andi was a remarkable woman. It is so deeply unfair that nobody believed her over Miles. It's unfair that you had to sit through a trial where everything about your story and your reliability was questioned, on top of the obvious emotional distress of losin' someone close to you. I am so sorry."
"I bet you've had to sit through a lot of frustratin' trials, huh?"
"That I have, though I'm fortunate enough that people usually listen to and believe me when I say somethin'. I've never been in your shoes."
"Maybe not exactly, but you grew up not bein' believed."
"Yes, but I haven't experienced that for a long time now," Blanc said dismissively. Helen wasn't convinced, but she didn't press it. "Oh, and by the way, if you need a distraction, you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like. Plenty to do in the city and Marta's not too far away if you wanted to see her. I'm sure she'd be thrilled to have you."
Helen took a deep breath. "I've been thinkin' it might be good for me to sit with it. There was so much shit to do right after the whole Miles thing, and then I went right back to work. I haven't really taken the time to slow down and process. I think it's been takin' a toll on me that I didn't realize. I can't outrun myself forever."
"Do you have a therapist?"
"No. I should probably start seein' one, shouldn't I?"
"You've experienced a lot of trauma and a lot of loss. Now, it's up to you, of course, but it might be for the best that you talk to a professional."
"Maybe you should, too." Helen gave him a sad smile. "Sounds like you've been haulin' around an awful lotta anger and hurt for a long time now."
Blanc let out a small huff, part laugh and part exasperated sigh. "You're entirely too good at weaselin' secrets out of people, Helen Brand."
Helen's smile turned a little self-satisfied. "I think it's one of my better qualities."
"It would be a dangerous one if you were any less kind and morally upstandin'."
Helen smacked him lightly. "Oh, hush now. I'm not all that."
Blanc smirked a little, then picked up his mug and stood. "I'm goin' to go reheat my tea. All that barin' my soul let it go cold."
"Mind doin' mine too?"
"Not at all."
Helen settled back in her seat. She felt lighter than she had in a long time. Amazing, she thought, what a talk with a good friend can do for a person.