Chapter 2

Deet showed Herbert Milhauser and Eric through the house on Guenther Street.  "It's always been in the family," he said proudly for many of the historic homes gone through several changes of ownership.  "The family fortune went through a series of setbacks because of fluctuations in the economy and my parents turned it into a bed and breakfast when I was a kid. We lived in the old servant quarters on the third floor.  I had to close it when they died because I was working and couldn't run it.  Most of the place is closed off now since there's only old Wolfgang any myself living here."

Herbert Milhauser closed his eyes and imagined his wife's reaction had she seen the Graschel home. Every room was filled with antique furniture, hand crafted in Europe and worth a fortune.  Beneath the dustcovers were dressers topped with crocheted doilies no modern machines could begin to duplicate.  Quilts, made with loving hands, covered the wood-frame beds. Porcelain chamber pots and brass spittoons were discretely placed.  Handmade lace curtains hung in the windows.  He decided that if Dieter ever wanted to replace any of the furnishings he'd ask if Betty could be given first chance at bidding on the old antiques. He figured he owed her for the years she had put up with him working almost eighty hours a week and tried to help, where he could, with the antique store she had just opened.

Eric didn't view things like Milhauser did.  He was a child, agreeing to live with a father he'd never known but liked instantly.  "Which one is your bedroom?" he asked Deet.

"I still like my old room on the top floor," Deet replied.  "The view from the windows is nice and all my old stuff is there, teddy bears and school pennants.  But I don't live there now.  Getting up the stairs is hard for Wolf so I sleep in a room that used to be the parlor.  You can choose your own room."

The tour continued with Milhauser noting that there were several modern conveniences.  Each of the six bedrooms on the second floor had a bathroom.  Two of them, more suites than single rooms, opened onto balconies on either side of the back of the house.

Manuel joined them partly because Deet invited him, partly because he didn't trust any attorney who wasn't with his own small law firm.  He had one partner, one associate, a paralegal, and two secretaries.  He knew the Graschel house as well as Deet because he'd spent many boyhood hours playing there with his friend.  "The view is nice," he said as he crossed one of the suites and opened the door to the balcony.  "It's not spectacular now because it's the middle of November, but come early summer it's going to be.  Deet's grandmother planted a couple of magnolia trees and his mother the confederate jasmine.  I remember summer nights when we camped out in the back yard.  We could smell the magnolias and jasmine."

Milhauser joined him on the balcony and had to admit he enjoyed the view.  The boathouse was clearly visible.  The trees were bare but the grass was still green and several of the rose bushes were in bloom. He'd been in San Antonio less than a year and was already happy that he'd taken the transfer from the firm in Indianapolis when they bought the smaller firm in Texas.  The senior partners had seen NAFTA as a blessing and wanted representation in Texas.  San Antonio had been chosen because it housed a Mexican Consulate and he, Herbert Milhauser, had chosen Spanish as his foreign language in high school and college.  He was fluent in both the verbal and written language and was a certified interpreter.  He liked the people, and he liked the young attorney representing Deet.  He understood the mild hostility from Manuel because he had almost decided to give up the long hours and pressure of being a law partner in a high-power firm until this position was offered to him.  He decided he wanted to be friends with the handsome young Hispanic attorney.

The tour continued to the third floor and Milhauser watched Eric as the boy wandered around Deet's old bedroom, touching everything from the battered old engine of an HO electric train set to the University of Texas pennants on the wall.  Scruffy teddy bears that had seen better days were propped against the pillows on the bed and toy soldiers lined the edge of a bookcase containing an assortment of books that included boy detectives, race horses, the odd Dickens and Twain, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Deet saved the first floor as the last and the group moved through an immense dining room and kitchen, library that contained everything from Shakespeare to Grisham, ancient Greek mythology, anthropology and archaeology, astronomy, the history of Texas and Mexico, and Native American works. Herbert Milhauser felt his fingers itch at the prospect of one day having access to that library because at one time, as a very young law student, he had wanted to champion the Native Americans and right centuries of wrongdoing.

"Well, Eric, I guess I know all I need to do is let the home office know that you're in good hands," Milhauser finally told Eric.  "What do you think?"

Eric still wasn't at all sure of adults.  "You gotta be my lawyer, right?" he asked.  "So if I call you and say I don't like it here you're supposed to

`do what's best for me'?"

"Right," Milhauser replied.  "Look, son, like I told you earlier, I'm on your side.  It's not just my job; it's what I want to do.  I want you safe and happy.  I think you will be with your dad.  Here's my business card.  You can call me anytime."

"Does this mean that you are offering to serve as Eric's attorney?" Manuel asked.

"Only if the boy wishes to retain me," Milhauser answered.

"Then I think the two of us should make arrangements to meet formally and work out contingencies for him and set up an equitable trust fund -- in the event that your client ever decides he doesn't want to live with my client.  Once we have the basics worked out we can set up an appointment with family court."

Oh yes, Milhauser was going to like Manuel Fuentes and the two left in deep conversation of writs and briefs.  And as long as Eric was his client, any work Milhauser did for him would be pro bono regardless of how much money the senior Graschel had.

"So, did you decide on a room?" Deet asked after the two attorneys left.

"Do I hafta tonight?" the boy asked.

Deet chuckled.  "No.  It's a big house and I kind of rushed everyone through it.  Would you rather wait until tomorrow?"

"I think so," Eric answered.  "Really?  I get to choose any room at all?  Like, could I have your old room?"

"If you want.  You can sleep there tonight if that's what you'd like."

Eric thought a few minutes and finally said, "I'd like to pick a room after you go to sleep."

Deet froze at the thought but he understood. Eric had been abused by one family member and, even though he was willing to give this a try, he was frightened.

"Tell you what," he said, "I'll call Manuel's wife and see if their son Jorge can spend the night. He's your age.  You can sleep in any room and he'll be there for you.  I've known him since he was born. Right now he has a crush on a girl named Aurelia, which is a little young to have crushes I think, but nobody cares what I think because I'm over forty and bordering on being an old man."  Deet didn't really consider himself old but he remembered that thirty can appear very old to a boy barely in his teens.

"I think I'd like that," Eric replied and Deet was instantly on the phone to Consuela, telling her that Manuel would explain everything.

"What would you like to do the rest of the day?" Deet asked.

"I dunno," Eric replied, suddenly a little unsure of his situation.

"We might go shopping," Deet said.  "You need clothes.  I guess I should see about getting you enrolled in school, but it's close to mid-term so maybe I'll get you a tutor until the next semester. Do you know how to use a computer?  You can use mine until you decide on your own room and then I'll buy you one.  I hope you don't mind if I set up parental controls on it.  The world is full of sick people who put things on the internet that kids shouldn't see. And we can see about that bicycle for you today.  The pony will have to wait until later.  I'll call my friend John and ask him if there are any auctions in the Bandera area soon and then we'll go and pick one. It's almost noon, would you like something to eat?"

"I think I'm a little hungry," Eric admitted.

"Have you ever had tacos?"

"I don't think so," Eric said.

"Well then, sit yourself down and watch a master taco maker at work," Deet told him as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out flour tortillas and barbacoa.  
 

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