Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 57043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“I didn't have any vehicles in my name,” she says. “He might have other properties, but if he does, I don't know anything about them.”
“We can look into it.” The lawyer writes something down on a notepad. “It's important to me that you decide on a course of action that's best for you. If your first priority is to dissolve the marriage and start setting up a life that's unconnected to your ex, then that might ultimately mean walking away from discussions about the property.”
“Because he'll want to fight,” my mom says softly.
“Unfortunately, it's a tactic that's often used in contentious divorces,” the lawyer says. There's real sympathy in her eyes. I believe her when she says it's unfortunate. I have to think she's seen situations like my mom's before. “Some people are more interested in punishing the other party than they are in moving on from the case.”
Anger swells up in my chest. It's hot and overwhelming. For some reason, it's worse that the lawyer is describing this in such professional terms. I know it's her job to stay calm and distance herself from the emotions of the case so that she can make objective decisions, but I want her to be angrier about this, too.
“She was a stay-at-home mom for years. And she stayed at home because he wanted her to,” I press.
“I understand, and I will do everything I can to make sure your mother receives alimony, but it is up to the discretion of the judge,” she warns. “And it will take time.”
“So she’s just screwed until…when?” I ask, defeated and angry. “No money to live on while fighting a man who’s going to use the legal system to abuse her more.”
“Renee,” my mom says, disapproving.
“That's what you mean,” I tell the lawyer. “That's what abusers do.”
“That's what I mean, yes,” the lawyer says. “Though in the context of the case, we won't make much headway trying to frame his behavior that way.”
“We don't have to frame it as anything—that's what it was.”
Ms. Cane raises a hand. “I completely agree. But in a divorce settlement, the judge won't be looking to award any properties as a penalty for his behavior. The worst-case scenario is that it becomes a situation where both parties spend a significant amount of time trying to get judgment on the events that occurred, not dissolving the marriage. A criminal case would be entirely separate.”
I lean back in my chair, the fight going out of me. My mom has never been willing to press charges. So without that evidence it may go nowhere.
That's essentially what the lawyer is saying right now.
“Okay,” I say. “I'm sorry. It upsets me sometimes, thinking about…” I wave my hand and sit up straighter. “I'm fine. Sorry about that.”
The discussion goes on for a few more minutes and it boils down to the most likely outcome, which is that my mom walks away from her marriage with nothing, and her ex-husband gets everything.
But she'd be done with him.
We go out into the cold after the meeting, my mom puts her arms around me.
“I'm okay,” I say, hugging her back. “And you're going to be okay, too.”
“I'm the one who’s supposed to be telling you that,” she says with a quiet laugh that sounds far too sad. The bitter cold whips across our faces as we head to her car, but I don’t get in.
“I have to go home; I have work tonight,” I tell her, and she nods in understanding although her expression changes to something I don’t understand at first.
“We'll find you a job. Aunt Laura will know some places where you can work that won't take all your energy, and you can start putting money away.”
“That's right,” my mom says, her voice shaking a little. “I'm going to figure this out, don’t you worry,” she tells me, a little more optimistic.
“Yes, you will.” I hug her tighter.
“Will you come home for Christmas?” my mom asks without letting go of me. “To your aunt's, I mean?”
I nod against her shoulder. “I'll be there, Mom. I promise.”
Griffin
I get one text from Renee midway through the morning and I'm relieved to see her name on my phone. More than relieved.
Renee: Back home fine. I'll be in for my shift tonight
She didn't seem upset about whatever appointment she had, but she didn't seem happy about it, either. Concerned, I think, but sometimes it seemed like she was concerned about what I'd think and other times I couldn't tell at all.
The more I think about this morning, the more I know there’s something she’s not telling me. I try not to think that it’s us or me that she has an issue with. But something is just off and I don’t like that she’s not telling me.
I hover over my phone for a minute or two thinking about what I want to say. I want to reassure her that I'm fine with how the morning went, and that I'd take her to another movie at the drive-in in a heartbeat. At the same time, I want her to know that I know something’s going on and she can tell me.