Miranda's War by Howard; Foster

go?”
    â€œIt was very contentious. Karl has taken leave of his senses. He’s calling an emergency town meeting, or threatened to.”
    â€œOh I see, you’re trying to inform me of the latest bombardment like it’s a routine event, like the gardener not showing up. Well it’s not. And I’m not going to sit here week after week while you wreak havoc with the town. It’s giving me an ulcer.”
    â€œHe’s giving me one too.”
    â€œYou love it when things heat up. I don’t. And I’m not going to spar anymore.”
    Archer reached for his phone and made a call, leaving a voicemail while Miranda glared.
    â€œTed, it’s Archer. Call me ASAP. We’re having a problem with Miranda’s service on the Conservation Commission. She says Karl Anderson, the Chairman, is calling an emergency town meeting to stop her plan to sell the Pierce Estate. This is getting out of hand, and I want to know what to do about it.”
    â€œYou didn’t have to do that. I’m not doing anything illegal,” Miranda said.
    â€œThat’s what you say.”
    â€œYou won’t give me the benefit of the doubt?”
    â€œWe both know that this is personal. You’re baiting him.”
    â€œSo you’re siding with him?”
    â€œYou can’t help yourself. You want to convince the town of Lincoln that you’re smarter than him, and you want to do it at an emergency town meeting. And we both know what you’re capable of in a situation like that.”
    Archer sat back in his chair smugly, arms crossed across his chest, and waited for her to let loose with polysyllabic insults. She restrained herself and walked upstairs to the den, the only room with a TV, and watched sailing races on ESPN with Asa for an hour, then put him to bed. Then she went into her auxiliary bedroom and closed the door. A few minutes later she heard Archer come upstairs.
    â€œWe have an appointment with Ted at 10:30 tomorrow,” he said from the hallway.
    After Archer was in their bedroom suite with the door closed, she went down to her study and spent three hours researching the ethical issues surrounding the attorney-client relationship.
    In the morning Miranda made breakfast, steel-cut oatmeal and carrot juice, as usual. Archer and the boys sat at the kitchen table; she could not bring herself to look at him and sat on a bar stool behind the island.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Cody asked her.
    â€œI’m thinking. Finish up.”
    â€œI suppose I’ll be seeing you at 10:30, right?” asked Archer as he grabbed his briefcase.
    â€œI’ll be there.”
    â€œFine, see you then.”
    Miranda drove downtown after the rush-hour traffic had died down, stopping at Rebecca’s on the way.
    She quickly got to the point. “Karl Anderson resigned from the bench and went back to teaching,” Miranda said. “It means he can’t stand conflict.”
    â€œThat’s why we lost the Back Bay,” Rebecca replied. “There were times we could have raised hell about the students and the high taxes and the city letting B.U. build dorms on Bay State Road. We didn’t. Nobody had the stomach for it.”
    â€œThey hadn’t served in war?”
    â€œYou’re damn right,” said Rebecca. “We’ve got it too easy in this country. Everybody expects things to be handed to them: benefits, subsidies, rights.”
    â€œIs Archer going to leave me?”
    â€œNo. He loves you. You’re the only woman who can keep up with him intellectually. You’ve got some sort of power over him. Maybe it’s in the bedroom.”
    Miranda laughed.
    â€œHe’s taking me in to see Ted McFarland, his lawyer, for God’s sake. This could be the beginning of the divorce for all I know.”
    â€œHe doesn’t have the guts to divorce you.”
    Miranda left and drove on to One New England Center, the downtown office