Childless: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

week left before fall semester starts and they tell me I can’t officially enroll until the balance from my freshman year is paid.”
    More silence.
    “Anyway, I was hoping we could figure out a way to release some of Mom’s money before—”
    “Not gonna happen, Matt.”
    “Look, Ben, I said I’m sorry.”
    “Fine. I accept your apology. But this has nothing to do with what happened between us. Aspen House won’t budge. End of story.”
    “So my money just sits in an account forever?”
    “Not forever. Just until sometime in September.”
    “What happens in September?” Matthew asked.
    “Opinions on the NEXT appeal will be issued.”
    “By Judge Santiago?”
    Ben seemed surprised by Matthew’s recall. “That’s right. Judge Victor Santiago is the presiding judge. I forget the other two judges’ names.”
    “Coates and Howatch,” Matthew reminded him.
    “Right again. I’m impressed.”
    Matthew decided not to tell Ben about the letters he had sent to Judge Santiago’s office. “It’s an important case to me.”
    “I bet it is,” Ben said wryly. “Nothing gets people interested in the law like the risk of losing cold, hard cash.”
    “I’m not just interested because of the money,” Matthew lied. “This case could determine the future of the whole transition industry.”
    “It could. Probably won’t, though. I’m guessing they’ll overturn the ruling against NEXT and everything will go back to normal.”
    “Including my inheritance?”
    “If the Tenth Circuit Court decides in favor of NEXT I’m confident Aspen House will come around. Until then they’re like every other transition clinic in the country, worried about an avalanche of wrongful death lawsuits.”
    Matthew found the whole legal mess confusing. How had a voluntary transition turned into a wrongful death case anyway? Why had a judge ruled against NEXT? Why had the court granted some dead debit’s brother so much money? And what had made that case prompt so much debate in Congress over the president’s Youth Initiative?
    Whatever the reasons, the director of Aspen House had gotten nervous when Ben requested a digital copy of the neutral consent form after Matthew’s mom transitioned. One day Chuck Kohl said he would send it. The next day Aspen House said he was no longer an employee. The request should have enabled Ben to tie up a last-minute detail for Matthew’s inheritance. It had instead generated dozens of delay tactics and one large unpaid student loan.
    “I can’t keep waiting for some court’s edict,” Matthew said tensely. “The semester starts in a few weeks.”
    “I don’t know what to tell you, Matt. Until that case gets resolved I simply can’t release the money.”
    “And if it doesn’t?” Matthew hated to ask. “What happens if they decide against NEXT?”
    “You don’t want to know.”
    “Yes, I do.”
    “If they uphold the decision against NEXT then all bets are off. The state of your mother’s estate will most likely be decided by some judge using criteria on which I won’t even try to speculate.”
    “Wait,” Matthew said. “Are you saying I might not get the money at all?”
    “It’s a possibility. Remote. But possible.”
    Matthew suspected Ben took silent pleasure in the prospect, his voice betraying a hint of smug condemnation. The eighty-one-year-old lawyer had never liked transitions. He mocked the idea that snuffing yourself out just because you’d passed your prime was in any way noble or heroic. A devoutly nonreligious man, Ben never called transitions a sin as Father Richard had. He just resented them for making anyone over seventy-five feel guilty every time he enjoyed dinner at a nice restaurant or took a leisurely vacation. He intended to live as long and comfortably as possible, blissfully callous to the growing economic crisis facing the younger generation.
    He seemed even more callous to Matthew’s personal economic crisis.
    “Selfish jerk,” Matthew said after