Reasons - 3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"So how was Thanksgiving?" Melissa said, as she unpacked the box of completed work. She wondered when he possibly could have done it -- and then she looked at the ridiculous notes scribbled everywhere. Clearly it was late at night.

Matt's thoughts were everywhere but the office. He looked right at his assistant, but took a few seconds before he responded, "It was good, Cohen, thanks! It was weird, I ran into this old friend and it was like seeing a ghost from the past." Matt immediately regretted the imagery, but it was sort of explanatory.

Cohen looked at him a little strangely, and said "Well, it seems like you were working late, so maybe you hallucinated. Stop doing that!" And she turned and walked out of his office.

She's right, Matt thought. And he got to work.

---

Matt's phone and computer buzzed with e-mail all day, but he generally let Cohen handle most of it. She would alert him if something important came through. About a week after Thanksgiving, Matt's office phone rang -- Michelle. "Sup, Cohen?"

"Do you know a Michael Burke? I don't recognize the e-mail address -- it looks personal. Or maybe it's a job solicitation? It's kind of a strange e-mail. Want me to delete?"

"NO! I mean, no, go ahead, send it through Cohen. Put his address on the personal whitelist. Thanks." Matt realized he reacted strangely, but she wouldn't ask about it... yet.

[// E-MAIL MESSAGE BEGIN //]

From: Burke, Michael (External - Personal)
To: Taylor III, Matthew James (Associate - DC)
Date: 5 Dec 2013 13:15 ET
Subject: California

Dear Mr. Taylor III:

I am writing to request your assistance with certain employment prospects within the western region of the United States, specifically in the California geographic locale and thereabouts. Please advise promptly if you can assist with this inquiry as, if you cannot, I will retain the right to knock you down again the next time we encounter one another at a restaurant of the Italian persuasion.

Best Regards and Sincerely Yours,

Michael O. Burke

P.S. I couldn't figure out how to write a work e-mail... did I do it right? I had to fight every instinct to use a smiley face. EVERY INSTINCT. And to not use caps, but I lost that fight. Oh well, can't win 'em all. How are you, man? I feel like when I saw you, it was like you were a totally different person -- is the real Matty in there somewhere? Or did he get replaced with a legal automaton? I mean, it might be an upgrade, at least that's what your parents would say! How are they, by the way? I forgot to ask last week. My mom was super excited to hear that I ran into you and that you were a BFD lawyer in DC. They are probably going to want to drag your ass down to the Eastern Shore soon, just FYI.

P.P.S. OK, if that was not professional enough, you don't have to write me back. But you know, if you want to or whatever, go ahead. Or whatever.

P.P.P.S. Did I play that cool enough? Damn. I hope so.

P.P.P.P.S. For real, good to see you. It was a highlight of my time in the dirty Jerz. K, back to class.

[// E-MAIL MESSAGE END //]

---

Matt stared at the screen for a minute, and then busted out laughing. He called Cohen on the intercom. "Yes, master?"

"Cohen, did you actually read that entire e-mail?"

"I might have skimmed to the end, but the salient details..."

"Bullshit, Cohen, you read the whole damn thing and then wanted to fish on who that was and who would e-mail me something so insane, right?"

There was a long pause, and then she replied, "So wait, can I call you Matty now?"

"Goodbye, Cohen."

---

Matt tried to concentrate on work, but it was futile. It was this connection to his past that he was desperate to explore, for an unknown reason. Plus, Mikey's e-mail was too good to put off until the end of the day.

[// E-MAIL MESSAGE BEGIN //]

From: Taylor III, Matthew James (Associate - DC)
To: Burke, Michael (External - Personal)
Sent: 5 Dec 2013 14:37 ET
Subject: RE: California

Dear Mr. O. Burke,

I am very sorry to report that we do not take on simple assault cases, or whatever it is you tall people tend to accumulate. Please try one of those firms that advertises on late night infomercials. I believe they have toll-free numbers.

I wish you the best in your future endeavors.

Best Regards,

Matthew James Taylor III

P.S. I'm here, I promise. I do have to put on a professional air at work, but really it's not all that professional. I shave sometimes and I spend more on dry cleaning. That's about it. How are your parents doing -- I also forgot to ask. Mine are well -- getting old, but such is life. I have a pretty crazy travel schedule, but maybe we can work something out re Eastern Shore. On the job front, do you know what you're looking for? I have some trips planned to LA etc. in the next few months, maybe we can talk then. It was great to see you, I can't believe how much you've grown up. (I'm obligated to say that since we are 6 years apart.) Now go study! (Obligated to say that for the same reason.) -matty

[// E-MAIL MESSAGE END //]

Matt stared at the message in his outbox and watched it fly through the ether and realized what a lawyer/liar he had become. "I am never going to go visit his parents," Matt thought. Too weird, too much baggage, too much time spent getting over things. "And how the hell am I going to get him a job? Fuck." Matt did not have any trips to LA planned -- so he would have to gin up a reason to be out there for work. But Matt knew he wanted to keep talking to Mikey. No, he *needed* it. This connection to who he used to be was fueling Matt, so, whatever the reason, if finding Mikey a job was the price, so be it.