The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [146]
This can’t be happening, Ben thought as he sprinted from the Metro station to his house. Maybe Eric heard the story wrong. Rounding the corner of his block, Ben stepped on a sheet of ice, which sent his body skidding and his right hip smashing into the frozen pavement. Ignoring the pain as he stumbled to his feet, he resumed his mad dash toward the house. He threw open the front door, ran inside, and saw Ober sitting on the sofa. Still dressed in his navy suit, with his tie loosened, Ober glared directly at the television, refusing to acknowledge Ben’s entrance.
“I came as soon as I heard,” Ben said, dropping his coat on the floor. “How’re you doing? Are you okay?” Pausing, but getting no response, Ben tried again. “C’mon, Ober, talk to me. I’m here to help.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Ober said, his voice quiet and spiritless. “I helped you. My boss found out. I got fired.”
Crossing over to the couch, Ben took a seat next to his friend. “Ober, you know I never meant—”
“I know you didn’t mean for this to happen,” Ober said as his shoulders sagged in defeat.
“I swear, I thought Rick was bluffing. I never thought he’d actually do it, and I thought—”
“It doesn’t matter what you thought,” Ober interrupted, his voice still barely above a whisper. “I lost my job. That’s all that really matters.”
Ben stared up at Eric’s painting, unable to face his roommate. Searching for the perfect reason, the perfect explanation, and the perfect apology, he was silent. In an argument, Ben was never at a loss for words. But when it came to apologies, he was awful. Finally, he came up with “I’m sorry.”
Ober’s eyes welled with tears. He covered his face with his hands.
“I’m so sorry,” Ben said, putting a hand on Ober’s shoulder. “I can’t apologize enough for this.”
“My life is ruined….”
“It’s not ruined,” Ben insisted, struggling to get Ober’s attention. “You’ll get a new job. A better job.”
“No, I won’t,” Ober sobbed. “It took me five months to find that job. How am I going to get a new one?”
“We’ll help you find a new one,” Ben said. “It really isn’t as bad as you think. Between the five of us, we can—”
“That’s not even true,” Ober interrupted, wiping his eyes. “You know I’m not like you guys. I wasn’t a straight-A student. I’m not a genius. I’m a moron.”
“Don’t start with that. You’re as bright as any one of us.”
“No, I’m not,” Ober said, his voice still hushed. “You said it and it was true: I’m really not.”
“You are.”
“No, I’m not,” Ober said. “This’s the sixth job I’ve been fired from. It’ll take me months to find another job. And it’ll be worse than the last one. My life is just like our board-game company—one big bust.”
“Ober, don’t be so rough on yourself,” Ben said, his hand still on Ober’s shoulder. “Life doesn’t revolve around SAT scores and grade-point averages. Once you start looking, a sharp personality will carry you just as far. And if you have anything, you have that.”
“I don’t even have that,” Ober said, pulling away from Ben. “I’m not bright; I’m not resourceful; I don’t work well under pressure. Why do you think I can’t hold down a job? I’ve been failing at this one for months—they would’ve fired me soon anyway. This whole thing with Rick just sped up the process.”
“That’s not true,” Ben said.
“How do you know what’s true?” Ober asked, his eyes once again filling with tears. “You weren’t there. You’ve never seen me at work. Half the time, I don’t even know what I’m doing there.”
“You were an administrative assistant,” Ben interrupted. “That was a good job.”
“It was a below-average job,” Ober said, wiping the tears from his face with the back of his hand. “And the only reason I had it was because I investigated a death threat that I wrote. If it wasn’t for that, I’d still be answering phones.” Catching his breath, he looked into Ben’s eyes. “Why did this have to happen?”
Surprised by Ober’s emotional collapse, Ben almost didn’t recognize the friend he’d known since grade school. But as Ober became more hysterical, Ben instinctively