should move in until they fix everything.”
I parked the station wagon in the garage, loaded a couple of boxes into my old hatchback, and came inside. Helen had a pot of chili going. I could feel Liz watching me as I got the sour cream out and started grating some cheddar. She put a hand on my arm.
“You should go.”
“Braun said no spending the night. He didn’t say anything about dinner.”
“He said it has to be clear to the court that we intend to divorce.”
“The court’s not here,” I said, and suggested a compromise: the minute there was a lawsuit, I wouldn’t so much as set foot in the house.
In the end, she didn’t seem to want to kick me out any more than I wanted to leave. I stayed for dinner and helped with the dishes, then the four of us played Parcheesi in front of a fire. It wasn’t so different from any other time Helen had visited except that Sara kept looking at the clock and insisted on sitting on my lap for the whole game.
When it was bedtime, I tucked her in and said I’d see her in the morning.
“But you won’t be here.”
“Not when you wake up.”
She started crying, abject sadness and need, asking me in between sobs to rub her back until she fell asleep. It took her almost an hour to settle down, but I was in no hurry. I sat there on the edge of the bed, trying to make out her face in the moonlight, thinking of all the times she’d called me in the night to take her to the bathroom or rescue a stuffed animal that had fallen on the floor.
It wasn’t like we’d never spent a night apart, though. She’d spent weekends at Helen’s; I’d traveled for work. This is nothing, I told myself.
But of course it didn’t feel like nothing.
I was on my way out when Liz stopped me at the back door to ask how I was doing for money. She’d guessed how few hours I’d been billing since the accident.
“I can give you cash,” she said, “but only under the table.”
I told her no thanks, I was fine, and said I’d call in the morning, after I met with Tawana’s attorney.
She shook her head. “You never called the lawyer I found, did you? You said you would.”
“Our assets are being separated,” I said. “Just like you wanted. If I get sued now, it’s my business.”
Helen cleared her throat. She was sitting on the patio with a cigarette and a glass of sherry. She said she didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she didn’t see why we were so worried about getting sued. “It sounds like it was the guy’s own fault.”
“It was,” I said, “which is why there won’t be a lawsuit.”
“Not that we can take the chance,” Liz said.
“How long you do you want me to stay?” Helen said.
I told her the statute of limitations was two years.
Liz wasn’t amused. “Just until I can find some help, Mom.”
Helen lit another cigarette. She said she’d stay as long as we needed her.
Five minutes later, I was parked in front of the apartment building, staring at the red dot on the back of my hand. It was almost ten o’clock. Ten and a half hours to go before I picked Sara up for school. There was still unpacking to do, and I was falling further behind in my work, but I couldn’t stand the idea of being alone in the apartment.
I wouldn’t have minded a beer and some company, but most of my friends were back in Ohio and Kentucky. The people I knew in New Jersey were clients, neighbors, parents of kids in Sara’s class—no one I could really talk to. I thought about calling my parents to tell them what was going on, then decided to wait, hoping I’d be back home before they ever found out.
I started the car again, thinking I might get some groceries, but eventually I found myself pulling up across the street from Derek’s Custom Auto Body. I was surprised to see lights on at that hour. The Suburban guy was in the showroom, restocking shelves from open boxes on the floor. The sign on the door read CLOSED . I realized the place must be his—only an owner works that
I parked the station wagon in the garage, loaded a couple of boxes into my old hatchback, and came inside. Helen had a pot of chili going. I could feel Liz watching me as I got the sour cream out and started grating some cheddar. She put a hand on my arm.
“You should go.”
“Braun said no spending the night. He didn’t say anything about dinner.”
“He said it has to be clear to the court that we intend to divorce.”
“The court’s not here,” I said, and suggested a compromise: the minute there was a lawsuit, I wouldn’t so much as set foot in the house.
In the end, she didn’t seem to want to kick me out any more than I wanted to leave. I stayed for dinner and helped with the dishes, then the four of us played Parcheesi in front of a fire. It wasn’t so different from any other time Helen had visited except that Sara kept looking at the clock and insisted on sitting on my lap for the whole game.
When it was bedtime, I tucked her in and said I’d see her in the morning.
“But you won’t be here.”
“Not when you wake up.”
She started crying, abject sadness and need, asking me in between sobs to rub her back until she fell asleep. It took her almost an hour to settle down, but I was in no hurry. I sat there on the edge of the bed, trying to make out her face in the moonlight, thinking of all the times she’d called me in the night to take her to the bathroom or rescue a stuffed animal that had fallen on the floor.
It wasn’t like we’d never spent a night apart, though. She’d spent weekends at Helen’s; I’d traveled for work. This is nothing, I told myself.
But of course it didn’t feel like nothing.
I was on my way out when Liz stopped me at the back door to ask how I was doing for money. She’d guessed how few hours I’d been billing since the accident.
“I can give you cash,” she said, “but only under the table.”
I told her no thanks, I was fine, and said I’d call in the morning, after I met with Tawana’s attorney.
She shook her head. “You never called the lawyer I found, did you? You said you would.”
“Our assets are being separated,” I said. “Just like you wanted. If I get sued now, it’s my business.”
Helen cleared her throat. She was sitting on the patio with a cigarette and a glass of sherry. She said she didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she didn’t see why we were so worried about getting sued. “It sounds like it was the guy’s own fault.”
“It was,” I said, “which is why there won’t be a lawsuit.”
“Not that we can take the chance,” Liz said.
“How long you do you want me to stay?” Helen said.
I told her the statute of limitations was two years.
Liz wasn’t amused. “Just until I can find some help, Mom.”
Helen lit another cigarette. She said she’d stay as long as we needed her.
Five minutes later, I was parked in front of the apartment building, staring at the red dot on the back of my hand. It was almost ten o’clock. Ten and a half hours to go before I picked Sara up for school. There was still unpacking to do, and I was falling further behind in my work, but I couldn’t stand the idea of being alone in the apartment.
I wouldn’t have minded a beer and some company, but most of my friends were back in Ohio and Kentucky. The people I knew in New Jersey were clients, neighbors, parents of kids in Sara’s class—no one I could really talk to. I thought about calling my parents to tell them what was going on, then decided to wait, hoping I’d be back home before they ever found out.
I started the car again, thinking I might get some groceries, but eventually I found myself pulling up across the street from Derek’s Custom Auto Body. I was surprised to see lights on at that hour. The Suburban guy was in the showroom, restocking shelves from open boxes on the floor. The sign on the door read CLOSED . I realized the place must be his—only an owner works that
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