shouldn’t be doing this divorce. Then swear it will never happen again and it will be behind you. From everything you’ve ever said about David, he’s already moved on.
You should invite David to lunch with your mother. I’d like to see those two together—the gods of your life squaring off. Maybe they’ll spontaneously combust in each other’s presence.
The cast party will be at the Rink. Bring your mother—or not. Maybe not. Drama students tend to misbehave dramatically. There might be some things going on that she should be shielded from—for your sake, not hers. It’s an insider’s party. And I don’t think you want to introduce her to Harry quite yet.
I can’t say I’d recommend marriage across the board—having seen some pretty rotten ones—but being married to Matt is better than anything I can think of, anything I can imagine. He’s wonderful. He not only puts up with me—and I know I’m a piece of work—he loves me the way I am. I’m crazy about him. Caveat: he is not perfect, but I never have wanted to shoot him more than once a week. That may change; after all, we’re still newlyweds.
I’m so tired. I couldn’t remember my lines tonight. I’ve heard that some NY people will be in the audience on Friday, including Juliet Taylor, Woody Allen’s casting agent. Talk about stomach problems. I haven’t eaten in two days.
Courage, ma chere.
Love,
Maggie
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
MEMORANDUM
Attorney Work Product
From:
Sophie Diehl
To:
David Greaves
RE:
Mrs. Maria Durkheim: New Information About the Marriage
Date:
April 6, 1999
Attachments:
Letter
I am writing this on the fly. I’ve got a ton of things to get done by the end of the day, but I thought you should be informed of some late-breaking developments in the Durkheim divorce. I shall try to be orderly.
Vronsky made his appearance! Late yesterday afternoon, about 5 p.m., a visibly distraught Mia Durkheim appeared in my office, clutching a letter. She said she needed for me to read it right then, in her presence. Of course, I did. I’ve enclosed the letter with this memo. I was reassuring and told her not to worry; we’d pull out all the stops and protect her and her interests. I told her that divorces get ugly at times—she had to expect that—and that threats, veiled or open, were part of the negotiating process. I did my best to calm her down and send her home in a moderately composed state of mind.
Did I say the right things? I believed them when I said them. Do you think Dr. Durkheim would actually follow through? Or is she panicking needlessly? She had been up the night before writing the letter and only fell asleep after Jane left for school this morning. When she woke up at 4:30, she decided she had to speak with me immediately. She looked so different from the way she had at the interview: older, haggard, depressed, sad, anxious. I felt so bad for her. I hate divorces.
She lied to me during the intake interview, or rather, she left out things she should have told me. I should have known; I never believe my criminal clients—they’re always innocent—but she seemed so sane and so frank. I don’t think her confession changes anything (does it?), but I’m glad she came clean. I don’t like surprises. Do I need to wait for the other shoe to drop? Will there be more confessions, more surprises?
MARIA DURKHEIM
404 ST. CLOUD STREET
NEW SALEM, NA 06556
April 5, 1999
Anne Sophie Diehl
Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski
222 Church Street
New Salem, NA 06555
Dear Sophie:
I was not altogether straight with you at our interview, and now that you are officially my lawyer, I think I have to come clean. My sin is one of omission. I didn’t lie to you; I just left something out that probably bears on the case. You asked me if there was another woman in Danny’s life, but not if there was another man in mine (were you being kind? or discreet? or did you think I
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