“Mother, you’re stalling.”
“Your father has decided he needs to find himself and has filed for a divorce.” The words stumbled over each other in her rush to get it said.
“What? A divorce after twenty-five years of marriage? How can he? Surely you didn’t agree to it.”
“It doesn’t matter whether I agree or not. He filed. I was served the papers.”
“When did all this happen?”
“He told me at our anniversary dinner.” Angela shut her eyes to try to stem the pain. Stay angry! “I’m sorry, Gwynn. I had no idea.” The sounds of her daughter crying shattered her heart all over again.
“B-but, oh, Mom, I can’t talk right now. I’ll call you later.”
Angela laid her phone down and stared at the portrait above the fireplace. The perfect family or so everyone said. Should she call Jack and tell him what had happened? Nope. He wanted to find himself, he could go looking without her help. She was not going to be the buffer any longer. Gwynn and Charles were going to be hurt. She’d help them pick up the pieces if she could, but not him. Right now she could be totally furious with him and disgusted beyond belief. Something she’d read about men in midlife who did this very thing said they often realized their mistakes down the road and wanted to come back. But some bridges could not be restored after being burned.
He said he’d taken everything he wanted to keep and to do with the rest as she willed. His high school trophies went in the trash. She thought a moment and moved them to the giveaway box. Someone could take the engraved plates off and reuse them.
She’d lined up boxes in each room, labeled them KEEP, DONATE, and DUMP. She’d made a box for each of the kids, too. Those would go in storage until they could pick them up or pay for the shipping, should they decide to. There were no boxes labeled JACK. She left enough books, photos, and figurines on the bookshelves to be attractive. The goal for every room.
Charles called the next night. “Dad won’t talk to me.”
“Oh, really? Any idea why?”
“Probably because I yelled at him.”
“You talked with Gwynn?”
“Yes. What are you going to do?”
“I am getting the house ready to sell, trying to move some real estate, and in between, thinking what I want to do with the rest of my life.”
“Would it help if I came back?”
Angela heaved a sigh. “Much as I would love to see you, the physical labor here is keeping me sane. Once the house sells, which I think will happen rather quickly, I’m going to look for an apartment and move. But everything will be boxed by then so the house is showroom ready. Stuff will go in storage, but I am being rather brutal in the sorting. After all, empty nesters downsize a lot of the time. I’m looking at it that way for right now.”
“Do you know what Dad is going to do?”
“Nope. He took all he said he wanted.” The fact that he’d taken no furniture made her wonder if he moved in with someone else. So far, Sandy and the kids had not asked if there was another woman. She was surprised at their lack of interest.
“I’ll come if you want.”
“Thank you. I know you would. How’s Gwynnie doing?”
“Alternates between anger and tears. Mom, he never calls either one of us.”
“I’m sorry.” What more could she say? She didn’t hear from him much either.
“Mom, do you have enough equity in the house to give you some cushion?”
“All depends on what we can get out of it. Not enough to buy another place since we have to split it. Don’t worry, okay? I’ll be fine.” Charles had always been the worrier in the family. He liked things planned out, in order, no surprises.
“You’ll let me know if you need some help? I mean, we can send you some money…”
“Thank you for the offer, but really I’m okay.” Or at least I will be if I can get some properties sold.
“What happened with that shopping center?”
“Fell through, the major investor pulled out. It’s a long and boring story.”
“Sorry.”
“Thanks for calling, Charles, I’ll keep you posted.” After they hung up she allowed herself to relax into the chair, but when her mind took off again, she heaved herself to her feet and continued with the sorting. Good thing she’d gotten rid of a lot when she was doing the big Angela makeover. From happy little homemaker to successful career woman. And she’d done it. She could do this.
The next day she got an e-mail from Jack. “Schedule the repairs and send me the bills.”
She blinked and read it again. “Okay, I will do that.” She called a man from their church who had helped them before, read him the list, and agreed that Saturday would be a good time. One more thing down. She thought a moment and called him back.
“Sam, you have a trailer for hauling things, don’t you?” At his yes, she added, “Good, I have some boxes that need to go to storage, a lot of boxes.” At his “no problem,” she made a note to check into a storage unit in the morning. Downsizing was going to become her standard reply when asked why she was selling the house.
That night she slept better than in weeks. Perhaps it was because the kids now knew and she didn’t have to worry about keeping secrets any longer.
Her good news in the morning: the couple loved the Rosedale house and had put the money down. It was going into escrow, and she had a couple who were supremely happy. Closing was scheduled within twenty-one days, a record. After jumping through all the hoops, she closed on a short sale, and two new clients walked in cold looking for a house. She listed one new property, the cute little bungalow of clients in a divorce situation wanting out now. All in all a promising and productive day.
She and Jack met at the attorney’s office, agreed on a fifty-fifty split on everything, including the outstanding bills, and signed the papers. “I do not have any money to pay attorney fees,” she said at the close of the meeting, staring at Jack.
“I’ll pay them.”
She watched him. The kids were right, he was hiding something. He must want out mighty bad if he agreed to all this without a fight over anything. Maybe she should have asked for more. She turned to the attorney. “So what is the next step?”
“I’ll prepare the paperwork for you both.”
“How long until the house is ready for the market?” Jack asked.
“I plan to list it next week, why?”
“For how much?”
“I’m going for top dollar. Ralph is listing it and we are looking at comps to see how the market is for a house like ours.” Ours for not much longer. The end of a life, or at least a marriage.
“Will you have it appraised?”
“If you want to pay for it.”
“I think we should.”
We? Since when was there a we? You’ve not done one iota to make this happen. We! At the rate her jaw was clamping, she knew she better get out of there. “I’ll schedule it and send you the bill. Still at your office?”
“Yes.”
No thank you, kiss my foot, or anything. Jack Bishop, you are certainly not the man I married. When did you change? All the way down the elevator and to her car, she thought about Jack. He’d not made direct eye contact with her at any time in the meeting. The urge to do something, anything, to punch a hole in his boat, into his dream for finding himself, made her clench the steering wheel with both hands and shake it. Just get through this; sound advice but something sure was bothering her. He was being too agreeable.
There, all done. Angela walked through the house that was hers yet in deed only. A decorator could not have done a better job, but then showcasing came easily to her. She’d helped a couple of her clients do the same thing and they always got top dollar. Even the front door had been repainted. Inside and out, all was ready.
When her phone played Pachelbel’s Canon, she checked the screen. Jack. “Hello.” She almost added, Now what?
“I want to buy you out.”
&nb
sp; “What? You said…”
“I know what I said, but I’ve changed my mind. I want all the furniture, everything just the way it is now.”
“Are you insane?”
“I’ll add another five thousand to your half for all the work you’ve done and another five for the furnishings.”
“You want me to pull it off the market?”
“Yes, is that so hard to understand?”
“If I were you, I would not get sarcastic.” After he mumbled something, she continued, “Let me get this straight, you want all the furnishings, not just the furniture. Curtains, everything.”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I walked through it yesterday while you were at work. I want it left just like that.”
She clamped her jaw. “You kept a key.”
“Yes. I want to move in soon, within two weeks. Can you be out by then?”
“Slow down. Five thousand is not enough for the furnishings. Make it ten since you want everything that is in the house right now. What about some of the things in storage?” She looked around the room, then through the living room. “I will take my personal things and that includes some of the furnishings you saw, like pictures, my mother’s china…I need to furnish an apartment, you know.” She knew she was thinking on her feet and her feet were tired, along with the rest of her.
“So?”
“So, I will take this off the market. Then you and I and my lawyer will talk tomorrow and iron out the small stuff. You have agreed to ten for the furnishings and five extra on my half of the house value. And you will pay me five thousand tomorrow as surety and the remainder when I turn over the keys.” Where are you going to get the money, buster? I have no idea, but that is your problem, not mine.
He stuttered on a reply, cleared his throat, and said, “I agree.”
“Fine. My lawyer will draw up some papers tomorrow to make sure all is legal. When I move out, we will clear my name off the title. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“I am.”
She sat in her chair after the conversation, mulling it over. Talk about a strange conversation from a man who said he couldn’t afford to buy her out. What had transpired in the few weeks since that conversation? This wasn’t the time of year for a bonus. Her part of their mutual debt would be around twenty-five hundred. And they would not have to pay real estate fees; looked like she was coming out with more than she thought possible. Her father would have said, “God is providing.” Much as she’d been distancing herself from her heavenly Father…She shook her head. Mercy was all she could think. What great mercy.
All accounts had to be changed, and she would no longer be banking where he worked, that was for sure. A thought lightning bolted her. He better not be taking money out of their remaining joint account to pay her. She’d not put any more money into that account since he moved out, not that she had much to put in. Angela rubbed her forehead. This was all too bizarre for words.
After the phone call canceling the sale of the house, in which she dodged questions, she put out the lights and headed up the stairs, her little notebook with lists in her hand. For some strange reason she felt like her whole world was flipping and spinning out of control. Her phone announced a text. Meet me at the bank and we’ll go through the safety deposit box and clear up our accounts. Two p.m.
She texted back. Ten, I’m busy in the afternoon.
See what I can do.
And if you can’t, I’ll take care of it all myself. Like I have been for years. Jack, you have trained me well. You jerk.
Chapter Ten
You want me to do what?” Judith sat gaping at her cousin.
Melody’s smile turned into a chuckle, possibly even a giggle. They’d had a history of giggling when they were little girls, but giggles had vanished for Judith years ago. About the time the two families quit getting together. “Just do as I tell you, it’s not hard.”
Judith shook her head as she picked up the pile of quilt pieces. It looked haphazard; not like something that could be salvaged, let alone made beautiful. “This is not beginner work.”
“I hate to be the one to break the news, but you are not a beginner.” The two had sewing machines set up on the dining room table and patterns, books, and fabric scattered all over the place. Even the room looked haphazard. Melody held up the pieces for step one. “Just do as I do and you’ll be fine.”
“Famous last words.” Judith stretched her neck to each side, pulled her shoulders back, and huffed out a breath she did not realize she’d been holding. Step by step, one by one, they put together pieces of fabric that looked so—well, so random. The resulting quilt blocks were gorgeous. This was more pleasant than she was about to admit. Time not only flew by but the piles of in-progress and finished blocks grew, too.
“Amazing what we can accomplish when we work as a team like this.” Melody had a trail of quilt pieces reaching clear to the floor and piling up, not taking time to cut threads until she finished. When she handed the train to Judith, Judith took it to the ironing board, along with scissors, and clipped and pressed seams.
“Do you have a quilt frame?”
“No, and my quilting machine is in for repair. I don’t quilt by hand much any longer; it’s more fun on the machine.”
“Let alone faster.”
That night after supper while they sat in front of the crackling fireplace, Judith cross-stitching and Melody working on the needlepoint Judith’s mother had started, Anselm looked up from the book he was reading. “My belly is calling for coffee or tea and dessert.”
“Let me finish this row.”
“I’ll get it. Coffee or tea?” When both women answered tea, he shrugged and headed for the kitchen.
“To continue our conversation…”
“Which one?”
“The one about what do you want to do with the rest of your life?”
“Interesting, isn’t it? Here I am nearly forty-eight years of age and I really have no plans.”
“What about dreams?” Melody shook her head as Judith shrugged. “Nope, not good enough. Way back you dreamed of college and becoming either an anthropologist or an archaeologist.”
“I didn’t get to go to school long enough to make up my mind, either.”
“So what is stopping you from doing it now, if those things still interest you?”
Judith laid her hoop in her lap. “You really think I could?” She had to clear her throat. Did she dare even think of such a thing? Slowly she shook her head. “I really can’t afford to go to college now. I need to get a job of some kind, but I don’t have any kind of résumé. Who would hire a forty-seven-year-old single woman with no documentable skills?”
“Hogwash, to quote my father.”
“Hogwash to which problem?”
“The work résumé for one. Sure, you’d have to put one together, but…”
“And I have no college degree. No piece of paper to show I went to school.”
“No, you don’t. But…” Melody paused. “We need to start with lists. But before that, if money were no object, what would you do?”
“You said dream and this is way beyond belief. I’d live on a lake somewhere and go back to school.” She tipped her head against the cushioned chair back and let her eyes close. “A lake where I could see the sunrise or the sunset, hear the loons call, and I’d have a dog beside me. And chickens. I still remember that short time when Momma kept chickens. I would drive to the campus every day or…”
“Or some of your classes you could take online, if you wanted to get a job. But with money no object, you wouldn’t need to worry about that.”
“Yeah, well, in dreams you can do anything.” Nothing like real life, the life I am living. “Besides, I’d love the classroom, the discussions, the people, even the homework; you know, the academic atmosphere. I have always loved learning, and that is one thing where my father and I agreed. He made sure I learned a lot.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Mel
ody muttered into her yarns.
“Ah, a bit of sarcasm there?”
“Not difficult to find some when you talk about Uncle Sebastian.”
“Hard to believe but he did have a good side, too. Shame that the bad so overwhelmed the good during his last years.” She sniffed, then reached for a tissue, and after blowing her nose, she heaved a sigh and nodded. “So, dear cousin, you did get me dreaming. I’m surprised at what came out. Shame the money thing is so real and anti-dreaming.”
“You know that both our mothers believed the same thing, where there is a will, there is a way. They raised us on that adage.”
“I think mine got buried in reality.”
“But that reality is over and your new life is beginning, or rather, has already begun.” Melody leaned forward. “You can always live here and go to college. We seem to have a plethora of schools within driving distance.”
“But no lake with loons.” A smile tickled Judith’s mouth as she mentioned that part of her dream, the dreams she didn’t know she had.
“You want to eat at the table or where you are?” Anselm held a tray with teapot and cups.
“What are we having?”
“Ice cream on those brownies you made and hot fudge sauce.”
Judith groaned. “I sure hope you have chopped nuts and whipped cream to put on that sundae.”
“Sorry, just plain.” He paused with the tray. “Well?”
“Right here.” Melody inhaled. “You made Constant Comment tea! What a sweetheart you are.” She moved her project off the coffee table so he could set the tray down. “Anselm, my sweet, you spoil me rotten.”
The next day on their way to the quilting and needlecraft show, Melody asked her again. “Did you think about school and your dreams?”
“I did and I followed your orders to start with lists.” Judith patted her leather purse. “All in here. You know, I’ve never been to a show like this.”
“What a shame. Someday I want to attend the biggest of the big in Puyallup, Washington. I have friends who have gone, and they say that this one is good but that one is incredible.” She followed the signs into the parking lot of the convention center. “I brought my fold-up cart along and my credit card. You will find notions and all kinds of things here that you don’t find anywhere else. Wait until you see the vendors. Talk about creativity.” After they parked, she retrieved her fold-up cart from the trunk and handed Judith a bottle of water. “You did bring another bag, didn’t you?”
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