“Part of me wants to fly to L.A and kick his ass.” Kyle admitted.
“Part of me wants to watch.” I chuckled.
“What happens next?”
“Well technically the waiting period started as soon as the divorce papers were given to him, but if he doesn’t contest the divorce then in six months it will be done. If he does contest it, we will battle it out during those six months, but he can request an extension of the waiting period. Penelope said he wants couples therapy to be a condition of the separation…” I concluded.
“Can they make you do that?” Kyle looked pissed.
“I’m not sure, but I hope not because California is a no fault state…”
“How are you going to hide that you’re eight months pregnant?” Kyle’s eyes were wide as he stared at my flat stomach, “you’re going to be fucking huge.”
“Thanks.” I scoffed and then deflated with a sigh, “I don’t know… honestly… I’m probably going to have to tell him before then… I hadn’t really thought it out fully because until this morning the pregnancy thing didn’t feel ‘real’ yet.”
I flipped through the pages of the book I was holding absent-mindedly. “I am terrified that they’ll make me wait until the baby is born and then start the six months over. Not to mention, I have no idea what Ben is going to do about a baby… will he try to use the baby to make me stay? Will he want to split custody? Will he be a weekend dad but then have our kid around his mistresses? Will he be one of those ‘social media dads’ who only show up for credit?” I started to spiral into my list of concerns, and Kyle reached out gently to grab my knee.
“Breathe.” He said quietly. “He can’t force you to stay with him and he can’t take the baby from you. We have the resources to fight the bastard every step of the way.”
“I never wanted to fight him…” I whispered. “I wanted to grow old with him.” I felt a sob bubble out of me and leaned against Kyle as the tears fell. A few seconds later, our mother appeared in the doorway with a sad look on her face.
“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop but…” she crossed the room and knelt in front of me, “I’m so sorry that he threw away the future you planned, but I promise you that his mistakes will mean that an even brighter future is waiting for you… and wewill be right there with you.” She grabbed and wrapped her arms around both Kyle and me, “Dad and I are going to move closer to the new pharmacy… at least part of the year.” She pulled back and sniffled, “We will be close by for anything you need and to watch our grandbaby grow.” Her watery smile was full of hope.
“I love you guys.” I whispered and let myself find comfort in their protective embrace, and when a gentle warmth eased the ache in my heart... I knew that Gram had sent us some of her love.
26-Ben
Melanie wasn’t taking my calls.
The first few times I tried to call Kyle, he had started to rip into me from the moment he answered and refused to give her the phone. I was a little surprised by how much his anger hurt.
He was my oldest friend.
I never doubted that he’d take his sister’s side, but part of me had thought he’d at least HEAR my side. Decades worth of friendship just gone, without so much as a conversation. I didn’t even want to know how mad her parents were. They’d become surrogate parents to me over the years, since my own had been such failures.
It had been three days since that horrible phone call with the lawyer, and I knew that my letter from Barb was due to arrive today. Frank was still trying to convince me to just sign the papers and beg Melanie to let bygones be bygones… but I was still struggling with the idea of a life without her in it. A part of me was hoping that these letters would have the answer for me, and the other part was terrified to see what was in them.
The house felt too large and too empty without Melanie in it. When we bought this place, we had planned on filling at least two of the spare rooms with children, but as the years went on, I was enjoying my lifestyle too much to imagine changing it by becoming a father. I knew that even if I was a cheating husband, I’d never settle for being anything less than the kind of father Kyle and Mel had grown up with. We'd made choices and changes that reflected our desire to build a family someday. The backyard had been carefully renovated to be completely flat so that it would be safe for clumsy little feet. Last year, after I had turned down Melanie’s request to start a family for the third time, I finally put a hot tub in the backyard for her, one that, apparently, she had removed after catching Angela and I in it.
Angela had been calling me relentlessly, all week, and Frank eventually had to threaten to get a no-contact order on her if she didn’t chill the fuck out. I didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with her shit on top of everything else right now. Plus, she had deluded herself into believing we were going to end up together, like we’d been destined lovers in some tragic love story rather than the adulterous sinners we really were. I knew I’d need to call her back as soon as I decided what to do about the divorce papers, otherwise she would likely show up on my doorstep and make this already volatile situation a million times worse.
Ms. Richards had set up another appointment with me for this afternoon. She said that she wanted to see me afterI read the letter from Barb, just in case it wasn’t good. I had no idea howshe planned on helping me if that was true, but either way, I knew I needed to log the hours if I was going to use going to therapy as part of my defense. Logically, it made sense that someone would need a session after reading the last words a loved one had left for them.
I wandered into the living room and picked up the blanket that my wife had left behind. It was our movie night blanket, and until a few months ago, we’d spent at least one Friday night a month cuddled up together under it.
When did I stop prioritizing our marriage traditions?
When you decided to fuck someone who was able to be a daily distraction, moron.
Even the forensic accountant said that over the past few months, I’d gotten sloppy with purchases. Stupidly, I had let Angela be in charge of booking our reservations, and apparently her own gifts, and she’d used the joint bank account instead of the one I usually used. Which was even more ammunition for Mel’s lawyer to use against me in court. He also warned us that the paper trail for my fraudulent movements was easily traced, and much to Frank’s horror, some of it could be linked to him too. He’d been a whiny prick about it ever since. “I won’t go to jail for your ego,” he had shouted at me and then hung up.
No one is going to jail. He’ll get over it.
Frank had told Barb's lawyer, some older woman back in North Dakota, to deliver the letter to his office. He was worried that I’d do something stupid if left to my own devices. He had allbut threatened to lock me up in his basement to keep me from giving him any more headaches.
When my phone dinged, I knew it was him without even looking.
Frank: It’s here.
