“Well now,” he said, a little humor in his voice. “Looking for someone to run them by?”
“Yes, exactly. But first, our settlement so far. Scott will get half. And there’s the house, which has a healthy equity. The only things that are untouchable are the college funds. We’ll remain co-owners of the house, each paying half the mortgage. And there’s alimony. I’ve agreed to pay Scott half of what I earn for five years.”
“I know you’re going to get to the risky part pretty soon...”
“I’m thinking of starting a private practice. A neighborhood law practice. I would make very little money for at least the first couple of years, but I can live off my savings.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Assuming you’re a good lawyer, that doesn’t sound all that risky. Sounds like you’d just have to budget carefully for a while.”
“Scott wouldn’t be getting much alimony.”
“Awww... Didn’t you say he has a degree? Is there some reason he can’t get a job?”
“Yes, they don’t need a stay-at-home parent anymore. They’re self-sufficient. They’ve been in school the last ten years! Not that they haven’t been in need of available parents, but I’ve participated in that almost as much as Scott. And yet...” Her voice trailed away.
“Justine...?”
“Sorry,” she said, sniffing.
“Okay, take your time. Are you breaking down?”
“No! No! It’s just that... I don’t know how to do it, Logan. Even though I was doing it, I wasn’t doing it alone. There was always one more adult on the team. Backup, you know?”
“I know,” he said. “And there’s a loud, tearing sound when they rip themselves out of your life. It’s the betrayal, Justine. You have to take it slow. One step at a time. It’s easier when you have food and sleep to keep you going.”
“I know,” she said.
“So, the divorce diet. How much have you lost?”
“Oh, just eight pounds,” she said. “I can spare it. But I’m not used to this confusion... I walk into the grocery store and don’t know where things are even though I’ve been shopping there for years. I don’t know what to buy. No one has given me a list. And I’ve changed all my credit cards, but I’m still popping up on Scott’s accounts or his name is still haunting mine. I’m used to being much more organized. I’ve always had a memory like a steel trap. Lately my mind is mush.”
“It doesn’t help when a vision of your husband with another woman pops into your mind. What a thought, huh?”
“You sound like you can relate,” she said.
“Yeah, try to imagine the visions I was getting. That was a long time ago now. Listen, it’s a process. I remember mailing my tax return to my mother. That was pretty embarrassing, but I regained my clear thinking and common sense over time.”
“I’m so angry,” she whispered.
“Of course you are,” he said. “Hell, I’m angry for you! Sometimes talking about it helps.”
“I’m leaning on you. I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t apologize. Tell me about this fantasy practice.”
She leaned back against her pillows. “In my mind there are a variety of clients with varying issues. Property settlement, estate issues, divorce, lawsuits, business sales or closures. I think I could consult with local tech firms I’ve worked with in the past. It would be so refreshing to help people with things that will make their lives better. Adoption. Prenups. Partnership agreements. Family trusts. Charitable foundations. The neighborhood law office.” She took a sip of her wine. “I could do other things, even that of a criminal nature. Arrests, DUI, custodial interference. Then there’s personal injury claims. It takes a while to build a practice, but there’s no shortage of need for legal services.”
“Wow. Well, Georgie and I retired from the police department at the same time. We each had twenty-five years in, retired as lieutenants and went together to an existing PI firm. We had worked together as detectives for ten years, so moving to the same PI firm as a team worked for us. What’s your first step? Look for space?”
“I suppose,” she said. “I’m also looking at existing practices, just to get a feel for things. Small legal practices. Most that I’ve seen so far specialize in either personal injury or divorce or medical malpractice.” She took another sip. “I’d like an office in an old building that maybe was built out of a restored office or house. There should be a kitchen. Best case scenario there would be a fireplace. That would add comfort on those cold, foggy days from November to April. I like old houses and buildings but then, why wouldn’t I—I grew up in Half Moon Bay, one of the oldest towns on the coast.”
“So, you’ve come to terms with your marriage being over?” he asked.
“I’m not done grieving, but I don’t want that marriage anymore. The more I think about the last ten years, the more I suspect this woman is merely the most recent affair. Scott had a lot of time on his hands. He could afford to be bored and restless.”
“If Scott has to go to work, it could be the best thing that ever happened to him,” Logan said.
“You’re right. He’s only fifty-two, and what he’ll get in a settlement and alimony won’t keep him through old age. Maybe he thinks his new woman will support him.”
“Not if the woman owns the kayak shack,” Logan said. “Does any part of your fantasy involve things other than work? Your kids will be in college before you know it. What will you do for fun?”
“Funny you should ask. I’ve been thinking a lot about that because for the last twenty years I’ve been working too hard. I was well compensated. I have no regrets. But I wouldn’t mind a little leisure time and entertainment. I rarely saw a movie because the only things Scott wanted to see either had a gun or a ball in it. The girls and I went to a few chick flicks, but it was rare. I love movies. There just never seemed to be any time. I spent weekends catching up on chores and work from the office.”
“Building a law practice is not going to be a vacation, but if you want to succeed, you have to find time to do the things you like. What do you like?”
“I like to spend an entire afternoon on the couch or the chaise outside, reading. I like to garden. That takes commitment, but I’ve done it before. Long ago, sure. I like concerts...”
“There’s live music in the parks everywhere,” he said. “San Francisco has some great outdoor music all over the place.”
“You do that?” she asked.
“I’ve been known to. In fact, I’m looking at a place in Carmel. Small, grossly expensive, old, close to the water. The only downside is tourists. Billions of them.”
“Why Carmel?”
“Georgie is in Santa Rosa, north of the city, so I’m determined to find something south. I’ve looked all over the towns below San Francisco. When we get a case, I’ll work mostly in the south and she’ll do fieldwork north of the city. We see each other in the office or work together a couple of days a week. Otherwise we’re in touch via phone or computer. And I like Carmel. Except, you know, all the tourists... What about you?”
“I’ll stay where I am until I figure out where I’m going to work. And I’m not going to figure that out until the divorce is final. Scott and I might take turns staying with the girls. I mean, we might each get something small and efficient, then take turns in the big house with the kids. That could work, couldn’t it?”
“Depends on what kind of closure you need.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she said. “Closure. That’s kind of hard if you have to keep seeing each other, sharing space even if you’re not both there are the same time.”
“Exactly,” he said. “It could work as a good transition...”
“Hmm, yes.” And then she thought, transition, closure, focusing on what you have, not what you lost, the next challenge... His common sense about divorce was very helpful. “Really, Logan, I can’t thank you enough.”
“Any time, Justine. Once you’re in your next life, we’ll get together for a drink or something. I know you’re going to have big things to report. But meanwhile, you have my number. And I have yours.”
* * *
Every morning Adele rose early, took her walk, then headed to Banyon Community College with great enthusiasm. She listened raptly to every client coming in the door, and if they didn’t volunteer much, she would take a glance at their intake sheet to see if she could piece together their needs or purpose, even though that wasn’t really her job.
She began to see repeat clients and welcomed them by name. “Hi, Alexandra. How’s your mom?” Alexandra was a recovering agoraphobic whose mother had MS and was recently admitted to a nursing home.
“Hey there, Leslie. Any news on your college admission?” Leslie, formerly military and recently homeless, had just applied to community college. She also now had a modest place to live in a community devoted to homeless veterans.
“Rosalee, you look fantastic!” She was dressed in business attire she’d gotten from a charity that specialized in office appropriate hand-me-downs for women in need of such clothing.
“Today is my interview dress rehearsal,” Rosalee said, smiling.
After ten days on the job, Addie felt as if her life had become an adventure. She was getting to know the clients, employees and volunteers, looking forward to each day’s lunch hour as the time she spent getting to know her new friends. Fran was divorced and the mother of teenagers. Her ex-husband moved home to his native New Jersey and rarely saw his son and daughter. Addie didn’t know why she was surprised, but she was pleased that Fran had a boyfriend. He was a cop, also divorced, and she talked about him with great pride, especially when mentioning how good he was with his kids as well as hers. Ross had an ex-husband and a couple of grown kids; she had raised them primarily on her own, finishing her college degree after they were born. But Felicity took the cake. She was thirty-five, slight of build and kind of fragile looking but brighter than sunshine. She was a social worker and had been with the center for five years. Adele learned that Felicity, so bubbly and happy and positive, had lost her young husband and five-year-old son in a small plane crash six years ago. Ross had whispered this to Adele. It caused Adele to look at Felicity with caution, wondering how one survived something like that, wondering what was buried beneath the surface.