by Robyn Carr
She started to ask herself, would she see him? She hadn’t dated anyone since she met Scott in college. Was she ready for that?
* * *
The house was pretty quiet in the morning, the girls still tucked away in their rooms. Justine rushed through a few chores, tidying up, cleaning her bathroom and changing her sheets. Scott didn’t use the master bedroom when he spent time at the house, and she wondered how long it had been since the sheets and towels in the guest room and bath had been laundered. Since laundry had always been her job, she suspected not at all.
She had a third cup of coffee, browsed the news, dressed for the day. By the time she came out to the family room, Amber was up.
“Wow, you look cute,” Amber said.
“I’m going to Carmel for the afternoon. I’m meeting a friend. A guy I worked with a while back.”
Amber’s mouth hung open. “Is this like a...date?”
“Just friends, actually. I don’t have much interest in dating.”
“Who is he?”
“His name is Logan. He’s a private investigator I’ve used. My office uses them routinely. And he’s also divorced, though much longer than me.”
“But I guess you will date,” Amber said tentatively.
“I haven’t given it any thought till this minute. You know what I’ve given a lot of thought to? You and Olivia going to college. I think your college funds are enough to cover everything, but I’m prepared to have to add or use some of my retirement fund or borrow. And I hope when you guys graduate we can celebrate with a trip or something. And you know what else? I want to spend more time with your aunt Addie. It’s like we’re finally getting close enough in age to have a real friendship.”
“Addie is brand-new,” Amber said.
“I know. And I want to be brand-new, too.”
* * *
Justine parked at the edge of the restaurant lot and found Logan standing near the entrance. He wore jeans, a collared shirt and topsiders, no socks. He was in amazing shape, and she assumed it had to do with his years of being a police officer; by his physique, he probably worked out regularly. At forty-eight with a full head of hair and tanned arms and face, he would be drawing looks from the women all afternoon.
When she approached him, he surprised her by pulling her close for a friendly hug. “Good to see you, Justine. How are you doing?”
“I’m doing great,” she said. “In fact, I can’t believe how well I’m doing. Six weeks ago I didn’t think there was any hope I’d feel this good about my life. I mean, it creeps up on me sometimes, but I’m okay.”
“Good,” he said. And he took her hand. “Let’s take on this town.”
The street was closed off, with people crowding the sidewalks. In addition to the stores and shops, there were several booths erected in the middle of the street that led to the ocean. They passed a wood art booth, a couple of large booths filled with paintings and sculptures, a booth selling hummus in a wide variety of flavors, one featuring wraps and shawls and even a leather goods display. Several food booths sold corn dogs, slushies, taffy, cotton candy, ice cream, flavored popcorn and chocolates. They poked around, checking out the wares, and made their way all the way down the hill to the beach. It was such a beautiful June day, the beach was crowded with people from kids to grandparents as well as lots of dogs.
With the time they spent looking at art and crafts and other offerings, it took them two hours to get to the beach. From there, Logan pointed out a restaurant with a large patio and suggested a glass of wine and maybe a snack. They settled into chairs with a view of the Pacific and ordered.
“What’s on your agenda this week?” he asked.
“Well, I don’t have any appointments yet, so first thing in the morning I’m going to get on the computer, see if I can locate any more small practices in the area that I can visit. I’m staying in my friend’s guest room tonight, but I’ll check in with the girls and find out what they have going on and then plot my day. You?”
“I’m working on a couple of cases. Both involve surveillance. A couple of us are tag teaming. One young woman’s wealthy parents are trying to determine if their daughter is involved in some nefarious behavior with bad people and drugs. Another we’re investigating is a businessman who no longer trusts his partner. The first is almost a wrap. Nefarious behavior never takes a holiday. She is in a mess. The second will take longer but is more interesting.”
“Wow,” she said. “Every day must be a fun day!”
He laughed. “Depends on your idea of fun. I admit, I like solving puzzles. And we’re busy all the time.”
“As I will be, if I am fortunate enough to begin to build a new practice.”
“I know this isn’t exactly what you planned,” he said. “But this must be an exciting time.”
“It’s more terrifying than exciting. I have to admit, I’m struggling with the added responsibility. I’ve taken on the bills, my own savings and retirement, the girls’ expenses...”
“Aren’t you getting child support?”
“Sort of. I’m deducting a small support payment for the girls from what I’ve agreed to pay Scott. And I’m keeping careful track of the bills—if he wants alimony and half the house, he has to pay half the household bills.”
“He’s getting support?”
She nodded. “For five years. But it’s not a fixed amount. Child support is a fixed amount, but the support I have to pay Scott is half of what I earn. I left my job last week. There will probably be nothing for a while.”
Logan sat forward in his chair. “Will that come as a surprise?”
“To him? Undoubtedly. Though I did tell him I meant to make a change and that I didn’t want to work for a large company anymore.” She stared at the ocean. “I’ve been with the same company since I passed the bar. I’ve always had a decent paycheck. I think Scott just assumes it will always be that way. This is the first time I’ve been out of work since college.”
The waitress brought them drinks and a plate of artichoke dip and bread. Logan lifted his glass to her. “Here’s to your new life.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Talking to you has helped, Logan. Thank you for making yourself available.”
“I’ve enjoyed it, too. Tell me more about your girls and what they’ll be doing this summer.”
“Well, they both have part-time jobs. Amber will go to cheerleading camp in August—fortunately it was half paid for before school was out. I’ve suggested she look for a part-time job she can manage during the school year, and she said she’ll look around. I told her I won’t have as much spending money for her during her senior year, so she’d better. Olivia has some steady babysitting lined up and is going with the family of her young wards for their vacation in July. She’s a miser. She’ll be okay. Amber thinks she wants to be a fashion designer or an actress or a home decor designer—we’ll see. Olivia wants to be a librarian. That goal hasn’t changed since she was a little tot and sat on the librarian’s lap during story time.”
They talked through a second glass of wine and some stuffed mushrooms. The sun was just starting to descend over the ocean, and Justine realized her phone hadn’t chimed with an incoming call or text the entire afternoon. She pulled it out of her purse and looked at it just to be sure.
“Someone looking for you?” Logan asked.
“Nah. I have no curfew tonight. I’ll check in with the girls on my way to my friend’s house.”
“This has to be getting old,” he said. “Staying at someone else’s house on Scott’s nights.”
“It won’t last forever,” she said. “For now, I’m making sure Scott has every chance to be an involved—” She went silent before finishing her sentence and was looking down the hill toward the beach. Then she flat-out stared.
Scott was right there with his mistress, strolling across the beach. She was small o
f stature, much shorter than Justine. She wore tight white capris, a short T-shirt that showed her belly and she had tattoos down one arm. Her hair was streaked or colored white-blond, and spiky. Justine longed for binoculars. She couldn’t really make out the details of her face, except that she had a long, pointy nose. They held hands and strolled like lovers.
“Oh-oh,” Logan said.
“This is my first time seeing her,” Justine said.
“There’s not much to see,” Logan said.
“There are some amazing tattoos to see,” Justine pointed out. “I have to admit she’s not what I expected. But she does have a good figure. At least from here she looks like a solid little thing.”
“Justine, you’re beautiful,” he said. “And brilliant.”
“And somehow, not enough...”
“That’s grief talking,” he said. “And at the end of the day, you’ll be better off than he will be.”
“But will I be better off than her?” she asked.
“Now that I can’t tell you,” Logan said. “But what I do know after all I’ve been able to learn about them, is your ex-husband is very stupid.”
“Seeing them, like that... It’s a little shocking. But it doesn’t make me want him back. Shouldn’t I want him? I gave him everything I had for thirty years!”
“I don’t know,” Logan said. “Maybe you’re happy you aren’t going to give him thirty more?”
“I’m still a little afraid of being alone...”
“Justine, you’re not alone,” he said. “I just bought you wine and artichoke dip! Man, you really work a guy hard!” And then he grinned at her.
She laughed and decided she liked him enough to kiss him later. If he asked.
They walked slowly up the hill to the parking lot and, good to his word, he held her hand. It was odd how that gave her so much confidence. The old Justine wouldn’t have so much as touched the hand of another man, and would probably be looking over her shoulder to see if her husband was in the vicinity. She was thoroughly comfortable, liked the touch; her ex-husband’s feelings never once crossing her mind.
Then he was there, right in front of her.
“Justine,” Scott said. “What are you doing here?”
She jumped in surprise when she was face-to-face with him. She looked left and saw the woman at his side, then swiveled her eyes back to Scott. “I’m taking in the art walk.” She looked at him closely. “That’s a nasty bruise.” A big purple bruise on his cheek had blackened his eye, and there was a small cut on his lip.
“I was helping out at the kayak shack and whacked myself right in the head,” he said. He cleared his throat. “Aren’t you going to introduce us? This is Cat.”
She thought about saying a hundred mean things. She noticed the woman did not smile. In fact, she wore a very superior expression, almost a sneer. But why wouldn’t she. She won. And Scott was the prize?
“No,” she said. “There’s no need. We’re not going to be friendly. Next time you see me, just keep walking.”
“Rude,” Cat said.
“Want me to tell you what’s rude?” Justine said. “I’ll tell you what’s rude! Sleeping with another woman’s—”
Logan pulled her away. He slid an arm around her waist to hold her close against his side and walked with her toward her car. “Not that I can’t appreciate a good fight, but I’m going to save you from jail time,” he said.
“Did you see how smug she was? I should’ve punched her.”
“I think she’s had practice,” Logan said.
“I shouldn’t have spoken,” Justine said. “I should have just walked away. If I ever run into her again, I’ll just turn my back.”
“Good idea,” he said. “Because she enjoyed that little temper you had.”
“How do you know that?”
“Her expression. I’ve been reading expressions for a long time. She’s got a mean streak.”
“Do you think she’d do something bad? To me or my girls?”
“Not directly,” he said. “That expression, that one uttered word? I think she likes the upper hand. She didn’t flinch at meeting you, even after she’s done her part to destroy your marriage. Possibly she has no conscience. Best to stay away from her.”
“Scott wants her to meet the girls.”
He stopped walking. He looked down at her. “If you have any influence, I’d give it a year before you do something like that. Can you convince your girls to put that off?”
“They don’t want to meet her.”
“Better still.”
“Whew, I’m very glad you were there to drag me away. I was going to throw her down.”
He laughed softly. “I felt that energy coming off you.” He arrived at her car. He turned her around, pressed her up against the car. “Don’t look for him,” he said. “Just remember, he’s gone and you’re a single woman. Just don’t look. Look here,” he said, giving his head a nod, focusing on her eyes. “Tell me if you had a good time.”
“All but two minutes,” she said. “Yes, I had a very good time. Good conversation, nice walk through town, delightful and relaxing view with wine...”
“I had a good time, too,” he said. “If fact, I think there are going to be more good times.” He leaned toward her and put a brief and soft kiss on her lips. “No, don’t look around to see if he’s there. We’re fine. We’re not cheating on anyone.”
“That’s a strange feeling, right there,” she said.
“It might take some getting used to,” he said. “You’re not one of a pair anymore.”
“I’m not,” she said, leaning toward him for another kiss. Just a short but meaningful kiss. “Is it all right if I call you later?”
“You call anytime you feel like it,” he said. “If you don’t call me, I’ll probably call you. I love talking to you.”
“It was kind of an awkward day, after all,” she said. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Nah, it had to happen. I’m glad I was with you. Now that’s one more thing you don’t have to worry about. You’re going to run into them. You’re up to the challenge. You can do it without violence.”
“It was close, though.”
* * *
Justine’s friend was out for the evening and had left her a note on the kitchen counter. Justine phoned the girls, made sure they were settled in for the night. Amber said that Scott had called and said he’d be there by ten; Justine didn’t mention having seen him in Carmel. She simply said, “I’ll call you in the morning. Then I’m going to go job hunting again.”
If there was anything good about running into Scott and Cat, it was learning that she would not perish from seeing them together. And while it had been tempting to punch her in the throat, she hadn’t. She had perfected seeing Scott in passing and never lost her cool because they were co-parenting. She didn’t scream at him that he was nothing more than betraying scum, a liar, a cheat, a waste of air. Tears no longer rose in her eyes. She didn’t long for him. In fact, she began to see his flaws more clearly. His hair was not just touched with gray, it must be graying rapidly and thinning fast because he was using some kind of cheap coloring that stained his scalp. He had a weak chin, his nose was crooked and his teeth should be whitened.
He was very fit, she’d give him that. How else should he be since all he did was play? But being fit couldn’t keep your face and neck from sagging. In fact, all that time in the sun was not helping the aging process. But all that was just the rigors of aging, and she would have looked on his flaws with affection, willing to grow old with him. She would have gone to the end, of that she was sure. She never questioned whether or not she was deeply in love. She never asked herself if she was in love enough. She only asked herself how much longer they had if they stayed relatively healthy.
That was no longer possible. There was no more for them now.<
br />
But if she was going to run into him and his mistress in Carmel on a sunny Sunday afternoon, she could run into them anywhere, anytime. Avoiding Half Moon Bay was no longer an issue.
Spending the day with Adele had put her in a nostalgic frame of mind. She longed for the comfort of a small beach town. She’d love to get up early and walk to the beach with her sister, exercising before work. She wanted work that was satisfying and a lifestyle that was healthy. When she stopped for groceries after work, she’d rather walk to Bronski’s than fight for a parking space at Super Foods. In fact, wouldn’t it be great to walk to work?
With that in mind, she went to the law offices of Sam Gillespie, Esquire. He was located in what passed for the business district of Half Moon Bay, nestled between a photographer’s studio and a bookstore. Down the block was a beauty shop and day spa. On the other side was a sandwich shop and bank. Also on the block were a secondhand clothing store, a hemp goods store, a UPS store. There was a bakery, a fast food restaurant, a barber shop and a place called The Beach Club, displaying board shorts and flip-flops in the window.
Just looking up and down the street, feeling the desire to browse, to look into the shops, chat with the owners or sales people, confirmed what she was looking for—a quieter, less rushed lifestyle. Room to breathe. A life where all she had to worry about was food, shelter and the ability to take care of and educate her girls. Could she do that, knowing Scott and his mistress were just down the street?
She went into the office; a buzzer sounded, bringing a man from the back.
“Can I help you?”
“I wonder if Mr. Gillespie is in?”
“I’m Sam Gillespie,” he said.
She stretched out her hand. “Justine Somersby, attorney. It’s come to my attention you’re looking for an associate, and I’d love to hear more about the position and your practice when you have the time. I can make an appointment, if you like.”