The Manny

‘Thank you, Phillip. It’s totally amazing. You didn’t even tell me you were considering this.’

‘You give them a lot of your money, and a lot of your time, but I wanted you to give them something even more substantial. I know what they mean to you.’

‘So much.’

‘I know.’

‘I love you back.’

‘Item two: there is something you need to do for me before my flight to Cleveland.’

‘Where are you, anyway?’ I asked. ‘I can barely hear you with all those horns honking. Are you in Times Square?’

‘I’m actually rushed as all hell. Are you going to pick up the kids?’

‘Just Gracie. I couldn’t deal with her expression this morning. I’m going to pick her up in her classroom, but ask Yvette to meet me outside to take her home. Then I’m hightailing it back to the office.’

‘Perfect. I need you to stop at home before you get Gracie.’

‘I won’t have time.’

‘This is critical.’ Phillip suddenly sounded like a British boarding school headmaster. ‘I need you to go home. Go into my office. Turn on my computer. Get the code for my new safe. The screen will automatically ask for my password.’

‘Phillip, can’t this wait?’

‘Please do as I say, for God’s sake!’

‘No. I’m not doing as you say. I’ve had a shitty day so far and I’ve got more work to do. I’m telling you, this is most definitely NOT a day I am going to be leaving the office for a long time. I can’t tell you how much the pro bono thing means to me. You know that. But I still can’t do this right now.’

‘Honey. This isn’t an ask. This is a “you gotta do this for me now”. I’m travelling for three days and before I take off I need to know that this is handled.’

‘This is really so important?’

‘Yes, beautiful.’ He laid on the charm with a soft voice. ‘It is. I love you. Please. I’m going to owe you huge.’

I decided I would make a quick stop at home after picking Gracie up, perhaps without anyone even noticing I’d left the office. ‘Hurry up. What is the password?’

No answer.

‘Phillip, I will do this for you, but I am very rushed too. What is the password for your home computer?! Couldn’t you have thought of this this morning?’

‘I was distracted this morning. By Dylan of course.’

Tapping my pen on a notepad, I sighed. ‘You were telling me the password …’

‘Uh …’

‘Phillip! What is the password?’

‘The password is Beaver.’

‘What? You’re kidding.’

No answer.

‘Phillip, your password is Beaver? That is so lame. Is this on your work computers too? In a stuffy law firm like yours? What happens if your IT guy has to get into your account?’

‘Why should I care about an IT guy?’

‘Phillip, I can’t believe you want me to type in B-E-A-V-E-R.’

‘Yes. I’m sorry. It’s a private password. I’m the only person who knows it and now unfortunately for me you do too. I’m a horn-dog, so shoot me. Now go into my office when you get home and type B-E-A-V-E-R into my computer. Get the new safe code, it’s hidden in a document titled “Kids’ Activities”, it’s 48-62-something …’

‘And then what?’

‘On my desk, in the in-box, under some bank stuff, or just on a pile to the right on top of the desk you’ll see a folder marked Ridgefield. I need you to put it in the safe.’

‘Why?’

‘Carolina.’

‘Carolina what?’

‘First it’s the nail scissors. Then she puts a pile of newspapers to be thrown out on top of my desk as she’s dusting, then by accident, she grabs important folders, then she throws everything out. I lose everything. And I can’t risk losing this.’

‘Phillip, please. You’re being crazy neurotic. I’ll call her up and tell her not to touch your desk.’

‘Every day I tell her not to touch my nail scissors or my collar stays or my favourite Mont Blanc pen, and every day I can’t find any of them. She doesn’t listen.’

‘You know that husbands are more work than children, don’t you?’ My body was now splayed over my desk like a banana peel.

‘I never would be asking you this, but in this age, you never know.’

‘You never know what?’

‘Never know anything! It’s the information age! Everything is stolen from people’s trash, their mailboxes, their computers.’ Phillip was now in calm, lawyerly I-know-everything-there-is-to-know-on-the-planet mode. ‘I come from three generations of lawyers, and I am trained and versed in making prudent decisions. This is a prudent precaution and I’m going to Newark airport, no way to stop on the East Side. I want to leave knowing this is taken care of.’

‘Why can’t I just do it tonight when I get home?’

He’d lost his patience. ‘For the last time, I beg you, please stop questioning me. It’d be so much easier for me today, if, for once, just this once, you could just do as you are told.’

I harrumphed and went straight home, where I didn’t exactly do as I was told.

CHAPTER FOUR Everyone Knows That (#ulink_8df7dc04-acf9-5178-8d33-2b4d8c157877)

It was pouring in New York at noon the next day.

‘Oui?’ The maître d’ stuck his enormous French nose through a crack in the thick, chocolate-brown lacquered doors.