She glares at me, like Roger Marks being an asshole ismyfault.
“So morbid,” Molly groans. “Anyway, we have to go.”
“When will you have her back, Seth?” Mrs. Marks asks.
Molly barks out a laugh. “Enough, Mom!”
“It was absolutely lovely to see you, Mrs. Marks,” I say. “But Molly’s right. We’re running a little late, and you know how Roberta’s is at brunch.”
“Have fun,” she says, clearly hoping we won’t.
She stands in the driveway glowering as Molly and I get into the car.
“Jesus,” Molly says under her breath. “Sorry about that. You’d think she’d never seen apersonbefore.”
“Good to know she still hates me,” I say through my smile.
“It’s not you. She hates all lawyers. You know, because of what happened with my dad.”
She clears her throat, suddenly seeming uncomfortable. “You kind of dodged a bullet though. Ever since she got a boyfriend she’s been obsessed with me dating. Usually if any man comes within four feet of her washed-up spinster daughter she’s offering to pay for an engagement ring before she even gets his name.”
“Youaren’ta washed-up spinster.”
She pulls down the passenger-side mirror to inspect her face. “I suppose I’m a moderately well-preserved spinster.”
I reach over and snap the mirror shut. “Come on, Molly. You’re beautiful.”
She seems surprised.
“I live in a city of twenty-year-old sylphs and people spending all their money attempting to pass for twenty-year-old sylphs,” she says. “I’m an old maid comparatively.”
“Then maybe you should leave that devil city,” I say. “Go somewhere where your good looks are appreciated.”
“Where, like Chicago?”
I blush at the realization she thought I was suggesting she move to my city. (Not that I would mind if she did.)
“Nothing wrong with Chicago,” I say. “You could be near Dezzie.”
She smiles. “It would be nice to be near Dezzie. And closer to Alyssa. I sometimes feel very far away on the West Coast.”
“Would you really move?”
“Well, now that everything’s gone virtual it would be easier. But I do like LA. I’ve been there so long that it feels like home.”
This is completely understandable, but I won’t lie that I wish she was itching to move.
“Would you ever leave Chicago?” she asks.
“Maybe. If I had a good reason. I’m a member of the New York State bar. And I guess it wouldn’t be that hard to qualify somewhere else.” Like California, I don’t add.
“Wouldn’t it be difficult to leave your firm?”
Suddenly I wonder if we are talking aboutus,without directly talking about it. The potential viability of our relationship. So I give it serious thought.
“I have a good reputation as an attorney in Chicago, and that brings in a lot of business. But I’ve been thinking lately that I might want a change. I could make a lateral move and build up a practice somewhere else, or maybe start my own firm. People get divorced all across the globe.”
“Yeah, at an alarming rate. Makes me wonder why anyone gets married.”
