She had a million things on her to-do list, but she chucked the cardboard cup and took a brisk walk down the main street. She needed to uncoil that tight knot in her gut. She’d awakened so fresh and rested, but Lacey could tax anyone’s patience.
She was familiar with the area, of course, but she saw it this morning through fresh eyes. The grocer was putting out his fresh fruits and vegetables and wished her a good morning. The café across the street had people lining up for breakfast. The bookstore was just opening its doors, as was the real estate office and bank. The bank was now her new bank and one of the tellers who was walking in gave her a wave.
Lauren walked for about a mile, then walked back to Starbucks to fetch her car. By the time she got home she was feeling better. Lacey was another reality she was going to have to accept. Despite the fact that Lacey knew only too well how hard Brad was to please, to get along with, she had managed to wrap him around her little finger. Cassie was right, Lacey was his favorite. He bought her spur-of-the-moment gifts he didn’t get Cassie. Not small gifts—a four-hundred-dollar purse, designer shoes they saw in a window and he said, “What the hell, huh?” Anything Lacey wanted, Brad would give her. It was entirely possible that the future belonged to Lacey and Brad as a family. Lauren excluded. Cassie excluded.
It stung. But it was a reality she’d been aware of for a long time.
Cassie, on the other hand, probably wouldn’t trade anything to keep a relationship with her father. She had already been clear, she wouldn’t throw her mother under the bus. Cassie’s eyes had been wide open since she was about seven.
So, this was where she’d failed. She shouldn’t have stayed with Brad so long. The first time the backs of her upper arms were shocked with small bruises from his nasty little pinches, she should have left him. In her naive attempts to fix her marriage or keep the meanness invisible for her daughters, she’d failed and in the end may have lost one of them. In fact she’d let one of them become spoiled and self-absorbed, while the other was all too aware of the abuse in their family. She worried that she’d failed all around. She hoped it wasn’t too late for them to heal.
She hurried to Beth’s to load up the things she had left at their house. Despite the darkness of her troubles, she felt a burden lifted. She was finally starting over. Beth wanted her to sit down for coffee and breakfast but Lauren had already eaten and just couldn’t be still—she had so much to do. She declined with a smile.
“Boy, you must be feeling kind of confident,” Beth said. “Didn’t he unleash any of his dominance on you?”
“I didn’t listen,” she said. “He’s going to make me suffer as much as he can. So what else is new? I defied him. He’s pissed. How surprised am I?” And she actually laughed. “Stop by when you have time. You know the way.”
Her phone was buzzing before she got home. The bedroom furniture would arrive within the hour. Another buzz announced the two large area rugs for the living room and master bedroom were ready to be delivered. The dining room and bar stools were en route. And she was suddenly very busy. She was sorting through new purchases from pillows to kitchen towels. The bedroom furniture arrived ahead of the area rugs—she’d figure that out later. Maybe Chip would help her move furniture.
An electrician came by to check some of the outlets that weren’t working properly. The landlord stopped in to see how she liked some of the painting they’d done. It was nonstop.
There were three angry texts from Brad. They served me at the office! said one. Who’s going to pick up my paperwork from the transcription service? And, her favorite, Let’s have dinner and talk this over! She responded calmly to each. I told you, I don’t know and No, in that order.
Then midafternoon when she was up to her eyeballs in boxes, recently delivered furniture and other items, and starting to wilt from the work of getting settled, Beau walked in the door that had been left standing open. He was carrying a toolbox.
“Hey,” he said, looking around. “Looks like you have a lot to do.”
She was never so happy to see anyone in her life. He’d come to install the safety locks and cameras. She wanted to hug him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Beau helped Lauren rearrange her bedroom furniture to accommodate the area rug. He reinforced her locks, made sure the windows had locks and installed the doorbell camera, which had an app on her phone to show who was at the door. He even helped her put her linens on her bed and all the while, they talked. It was exactly what she needed. While Beth and Chip were as supportive as they could be, they were always treading so carefully, clearly fearful that she’d cave in and go back as she had before. There was something about Beau’s empathy that was better—he didn’t tread carefully. You will be judged and you will feel guilty. Boom.
She spent the rest of the week and through the weekend getting settled. It wasn’t too complicated—she didn’t have that much. She spent some money on odds and ends like baskets, candles, pictures, stacking tables—the personal touches that would make the house hers. And Beau dropped by several times. By the end of the week he said, “I’d call or text but I don’t have your phone number.” She decided it was probably safe to give it to him since she never hesitated to open her door to him.
She learned that he supported the family and paid all the monthly bills; Pamela paid her charge accounts and only occasionally picked up family expenses or paid for clothes or athletic supplies for her sons, but since they filed a joint tax return, he was well aware of how nice her paycheck was and that she had her own savings account.
“That doesn’t seem fair,” Lauren said.
“I caught on within a few years,” he said. “That’s how she was able to take breaks from the marriage, rent nice space and travel. So I started an equity account in the business for savings and started college funds for the boys. I’m not trying to hide anything, but I’d like to level the playing field because she’s going to want half the house and half my business.”
“Your business?” Lauren asked, aghast.
“Divorce is a rough game, Lauren. And I made quite a few mistakes along the way. For one thing, I should’ve filed the last time she left. I should’ve done it right away, before she was tired of her vacation. If my guess is right, she wouldn’t have flinched. She was occupied and wanted to be free of me.”
“And I should have divorced Brad when the girls were small.”
“But you didn’t,” he said.
“He said he’d take them away from me. He said, ‘Lauren, you’ll never make it. I have money and you don’t. I can fight you every step of the way until I starve you out and get the girls.’” She shrugged. “I believed him. I was young. I was married to a man who got everything he wanted. And then there’s that other little thing...”
He furrowed his eyebrows in question.
“I didn’t want the girls to grow up the way Beth and I did.” She blushed in embarrassment. “We weren’t unhappy, I don’t know what I was thinking. Our mother and grandparents loved us, did their best by us. It was hard, though. Barely seeing Honey because she worked at least two jobs, not having enough money to join clubs or teams. I thought, Brad couldn’t provide love and kindness, but he could provide.” She sighed. “I was a fool and I made a deal with the devil.”
These were the kind of truths they shared. Lauren wondered what kind of deeply personal things Beau was keeping to himself because she was barely scratching the surface when sharing with him. She was telling her new friend only those things she was comfortable making public.
Lauren was seeing that divorce was an emotional mine field. Brad was calling and texting her several times a day, alternating between harassing her, sweetly cajoling her to stop this madness or demanding she take care of his errands. She stopped responding but his messages and texts were well preserved on her phone.
She went back to work the following week and told her supervisor and most of her colleagues how the move had gone and that she was living not too far from the plant. She was surprised by the kind reception. She hadn’t expected them to be sympathetic. Bea, the division director and her immediate supervisor, asked her if she had a good lawyer and said, “If there’s anything I can do to support you, let me know.”
She thought it would be a good idea to contact Sylvie Emerson. They planned for a Sunday brunch, just the two of them, at Sylvie’s beautiful home on Nob Hill. “Andy will be playing golf, so he won’t bother us!”
Lauren hoped he wasn’t playing with Brad.
She took a leafy red geranium in a pretty pot and she settled with Sylvie at a table on the patio, surrounded by plants, shrubs and flowers. It wasn’t a large yard, it being a city home, but it was beautifully landscaped with lots of outdoor furniture and a brick fireplace. Lauren assumed they did quite a bit of entertaining here.
After a cup of coffee and a little fruit cup, Lauren broke it to her. “I have something to tell you,” she said. “It’s official now. Brad and I will be divorcing.”
Startled, Sylvie gasped. “Oh my God,” she said. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Lauren said. “Sylvie, I was the one to file for divorce. I have to be honest with you—this is not premature. But I understand that Andy and Brad are good friends and if that means you wouldn’t be comfortable as my friend, I completely understand. I would never put you in the middle of it. It’s messy.”
“Not be my friend because of a messy divorce? Bullshit. I’ve known Brad for fifteen years and I consider him more of a business associate of Andy’s than a close friend. He’s been helpful with medical matters. Brad would move mountains to get any of our family or friends a speedy appointment or referral and we appreciate that. Of course, we’re grateful for anything he’ll do for the foundation. But Lauren, we’re not friends. Brad does favors for Andy, Andy takes Brad to his club or includes him with a group of friends when they take the boat out. It’s a business relationship. Not like our relationship, which is not business. This is personal. If you need anything at all, anything, I hope you’ll come to me at once! And I didn’t get where I am today being afraid of a mess here and there.”