Saving the best for last, I’m so glad you had a good time on Sunday with Will. I think, like your mother, you’re happiest when you have a man you can argue with. Did you really think he would be as liberal as you? No one’s as liberal as you and still aspires to political office. You’re unelectable in every state, even Massachusetts.
Love,
Maggie
P.S. I got the part in The Rivals. At the rep. I just got the email. Oh bliss, oh rapture.
MARIA MATHER MEIKLEJOHN
90 Germyn Street
NEW SALEM, NA 06556
December 8, 1999
Dear Sophie,
Jane and I moved out of the St. Cloud Street house on the 1st and are now very cozily ensconced in our apartment on Germyn Street. We took Tito but left Fido. I know Daniel and I skirmished over that, but this place is too small for a dog, and without a proper backyard I’d have to walk him morning and night, which in the clear light of a new day did not seem attractive.
I’m a bit embarrassed about the stationery, the third monogrammed version in less than a year, but it’s so ingrained, having it and using it, that not having it and not using it would be like going outside without underpants. Maybe that’s an exaggeration. But I would feel undressed without it, or at the very least badly dressed, stationerily speaking. I still confess to you.
Which brings me to the real point. Can a divorce lawyer and her client ever be friends? I know I’ve behaved badly in front of you, but then I’ve behaved badly in front of many of my friends—and relations too. I can also behave well. I’m hoping now, with this all settled, I’ll settle too. Maybe we can have a drink sometime. At Golightly’s, for auld lang syne?
Thanks for everything,
P.S. Don’t forget to send the bill. I must owe you money.
You Won’t Believe This, Part II
* * *
From: Sophie Diehl
To: Maggie Pfeiffer
Date: Thu, 9 Dec 1999 19:44:20
Subject: You Won’t Believe This, Part II 12/9/99 7:44 PM
Dear Mags,
I just tried calling you. Where are you? I had a jaw-dropping moment this evening, in Good Foods. I still can’t wrap my mind around it. You won’t believe it. I don’t believe it. But, of course, I do. I was there.
As I was standing in front of the ice cream freezer, trying to decide between Narragansett Dairy’s Compton Salted Caramel or New Salem Nougatine, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I wheeled around, almost expecting Harry. But no. It was Daniel Durkheim, the almost ex-husband of my divorce client. “Hello,” he said. “I thought it was you.” “Oh,” I said. “Hello.” I started to turn back to the freezer. He spoke again: “I was hoping I’d run into you.” He paused, smiling slightly. “Oh,” I said, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to think. How would Emily Post handle this situation? He went on. “I was wondering if you’d like to have a drink sometime?” I must have looked as astonished as I felt. “Are you serious?” I asked. “Of course,” he said, “why wouldn’t I be?” “Well,” I said, taking a deep breath, “you’re the man who forever ruined Golightly’s for me. Why would I want to have a drink with you?” He flushed scarlet, then turned and walked away.
I will never ever understand men, not as long as I live. I bought both ice creams and am now, as I sit in front of the computer, eating alternately out of the two cartons. Next up, I’m going to make myself a stiff gin and tonic and watch at least three episodes of Tinker Tailor. I worship Alec Guinness.
Love,
Sophie
P.S. Yesterday Will and I went to see Mansfield Park. When I told him earlier in the day I wanted to see it, he had no idea what it was. I was so taken aback. “Haven’t you read Jane Austen?” I asked. Shamefacedly (well, sort of, he doesn’t shame easily), he admitted he hadn’t. “Not even Pride and Prejudice?” I asked. He shook his head. “How can that be?” His response: “I wasn’t an English major.” I was aghast. “What has that to do with it? Didn’t they make you read any novels at Penn? Didn’t they have gen ed courses?” He went on the offensive. “You haven’t read any David Foster Wallace,” he said. “He’s the greatest writer of his, our generation.” I told him I had tried but came a cropper. “He’s like Bellow,” I said. “So many words.” He gave me a kiss. “I’ll give the old girl a try,” he said. And he’s doing that. He just called to say he picked up a copy of P&P. In a spirit of reciprocal good sportsmanship, I am reading one of DFW’s essays, “Neither Adult Nor Entertainment,” about the porn Oscars. It’s very good, funny too. All the women are called “starlets” and the men “woodmen.” Who else would think to write about this, besides, of course, Hunter Thompson?
P.P.S. Joe came through. David gave me a $25,000 raise (not a bonus!) for turning down Farrow Allerton. Joe said David was at first stunned. Who goes recruiting raw associates? Then he got alarmed. Good. He first offered to raise me $10,000. Joe told him to get serious. The negotiations went two more rounds. Joe is the best. The next day, David asked me why I didn’t come to him myself. I’d prepared for that, not wanting to look craven. I quoted the old saying that any person who represents herself has a fool for a client. David raised an eyebrow, then congratulated me. He’s the next best.
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
TIME SHEET
Attorney Work Product
Client: Maria Mather Meiklejohn
Attorney: Anne Sophie Diehl
Date: December 10, 1999
Rate: $150/hour
Date Item Hour(s)
6/3/99 Letter to RK on Restraining Order 1
6/9/99 Review of 4M’s Will
Consultation with Proctor Hand* 2
6/18/99 Consultation with MMM
RE: Child Evaluation; 4M’s Trust 2
7/7/99 Conference with DED, RK at RK Office 2
7/9/99 Review of 4M’s Trust 1
Email to MMM, summing up 1
Letter to MMM on Trust, MV property 3
7/16/99 Draft of Revised Settlement Offer 3
7/21/99 Letter to RK on 4M’s Trust 1
Rules on Necessary, Emergency Invasions 3
Revised Settlement Offer to DED, RK 2
9/7/99 Review of Child Evaluation 2
10/5/99 Review of New Offer from S&B 2
10/7/99 Consultation with MMM on New Offer 1
Draft of Counteroffer 3
10/11/99 Letter to S&B with Counteroffer 2
10/20/99 Review of Narragansett Divorce Code 3
10/21/99 Draft of Separation Agreement 4
Consultation with Felix Landau* 2
10/27/99 Signing Agreement at S&B 2
Total Hours 42
Bill $6,300
* Proctor Hand and Felix Landau will charge $150/hour for 2 hours of consultation each in accord with the Fee Agreement.
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
BILL FOR SERVICES
Attorney Work Product
Client: Maria Mather Meiklejohn
Rate: $150/hour
Period: 6/3/99 to 10/27/99
Date: December 10, 1999
Attorney: Anne Sophie Diehl
42 Hours $6,300
Attorney: Proctor Hand
2 Hours $300
Attorney: Felix Landau
2 Hours $300
Secretarial Support: 30 hours at $40.00/hour $1,200
Reproduction Costs, Postage, Messenger: $400
Subtotal: $8,500
Previous Bill: $5,700
Total: $14,200
Retainer Paid: $12,000
Total Due: $2,200
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET
NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555
(393) 876-5678
MEMORANDUM
Attorney Work Pr
oduct
From: Sophie Diehl
To: David Greaves
RE: Maria Meiklejohn/Daniel Durkheim
Last Shot Across the Bow !?!?
Date: December 17, 1999
Attachments:
I just got off the phone with Mia Meiklejohn. In the move, the movers took an ancient 17” cathode-ray black-and-white television that sat on the kitchen counter. It was supposed to stay with Dr. Durkheim at the St. Cloud Street house; he protested, formally, through Mamie Booth. Ms. Meiklejohn called him to tell him he was the most pathetic person she knew but, sure, if he wanted it, he could get it when he next took Jane out to dinner. I asked her not to kick it in. She promised.
New Year’s
* * *
From: Sophie Diehl
To: Maggie Pfeiffer
Date: Sun, 19 Dec 1999 19:28:48
Subject: New Year’s 12/19/99 7:28 PM
Dear Mags,
I’m so glad you and Matt can come for New Year’s. Will is taking charge. I am sous-chefing, which is a real test of our relationship. He is a tyrant in the kitchen. His older sisters toughened him up and made him a feminist, but there’s no escaping he’s the family baby and his mother dotes. Can you imagine a Jewish Mother who is also an Italian Mother? He explained (instead of apologizing) when I complained about his kitchen bullying: “I can’t do anything about it. You’ve met my younger sister. Well, my older sister is Stella squared. Mom made each of us cook one meal a week, and I became very belligerent in the kitchen (and highly skilled) because they were so critical. An 8-year-old doesn’t exactly have a wide repertoire.” I suppose I’m feeling with him in the kitchen the way Francoise feels with me all the time.
He’s planning to make a fish stew, though not a bouillabaisse. “Nothing French,” he said, in a preemptive strike against any criticism I might make. I will do dessert. I’m dying to try a galett e. He thinks that’s too chaste, after fish. He wants chocolate. All this negotiation. I think I have a real boyfriend.
Shrinking is going … After our third session, Ms. Phelps said, “Your editing function seems to be on the fritz—I’m not talking about here, in this room, but out in the world. You know, you don’t have to say everything you think.” I’d say her diagnosis was dead on. Will says the same thing. So does Maman, so do you, David, the Judge. I just never really heard it clearly before she said it.
I’m almost happy.
Don’t bring anything. Just yourselves. Maman and Jake sent a mixed case of wine and champagne to celebrate the New Year’s. I think they know something’s going on.
xoxo,
Sophie
From the desk of Sophie Diehl
December 20
Dear Mia,
I’d like to meet for a drink, but not Golightly’s. Let’s do it in the new year and start with a clean slate. How about Frank’s Bar and Grill? It’s no better than it should be.
This is all I can manage in the way of monogrammed stationery right now. My mother, who’s always used it, is threatening to get me some for Christmas, as a sign I’ve grown up.
Are you ready for the new millennium? I’m hopeful.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year,
Sophie
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET, NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555 (393) 876-5678
December 31, 1999
Stephanie,
Keep an eye out for Catherine Strand, a postdoc in Daniel’s lab and the first author on a recent paper in “Pediatric Oncology.” She’s a blond WASP with a trust fund, the Durkheim trifecta.
Mia
P.S. He did it with you; he’ll do it to you.
From the desk of Sophie Diehl
1/4/00
Final decree to issue 1/25/00
Send note to Mia Meiklejohn
TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI
222 CHURCH STREET, NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555 (393) 876-5678
* * *
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Like Jane Durkheim, I know my luck. Special thanks go to five women, the sine qua nons of this novel: my daughter, the writer Maggie Pouncey, for her readiness to read every iteration of the manuscript and her unflagging confidence in it; the novelist Karen Thompson Walker, for her early reading of the final draft, which encouraged me to look for an agent; my agent, Kathy Robbins, for her editorial skills, her gift for negotiation, her discretion, and her friendship; my editor, Lindsay Sagnette, for her commitment to the novel, which gave it life and put me in such good literary company; and publisher Molly Stern, for her belief in the novel, which allowed me to imagine a different third act, and for her talented design team.
Others, too, have helped me along the way. My thanks to: my son-in-law, Matt Miller, for his unblinking assurance that the book would be published; my stepsons, Christian Pouncey, Max Denby, and Tommy Denby, and my daughter-in-law, Victoria Pouncey, for their generous notion of family; Katherine DiLeo of the Robbins Office, for her staunch defense of Sophie when she behaved badly; Jane Booth, Becky Okrent, Nancy Dunbar, Barbara Fisher, Joanne McGrath, Carol Sanger, Jean Howard, Niki Parisier, and Jill Cutler, for their advice and stories; and Joanna and Jonathan Cole, for their bedrock support.
I want to acknowledge a particular debt to Carl Hovde, who died in 2009. I appropriated a line from a letter he wrote when he was dean of Columbia College (1968–72) and ascribed it in the novel to Judge Anne Howard; it is the line about fencing unicorns and foddering wolves. I know the line because I typed the letter. I was Carl’s secretary. Carl tossed off lines like that effortlessly.
The odds against this novel getting finished, not to say published, were long. I came to fiction late in life; I adopted an irregular genre, Epistolary 2.0; for many years I worked on it only intermittently. Early in our relationship, my husband, David Denby, read a very raw draft. He gave me criticism I wasn’t interested in hearing, let alone accepting. Years later, I realized he had made good points. David took me seriously and made me take myself seriously. He gave me the freedom and room to write.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Susan Rieger was educated at Mount Holyoke College and Columbia Law School. She was a residential college dean at Yale and an associate provost at Columbia, and she has taught law to undergraduates at Mount Holyoke, Hampshire, Columbia, and Yale. She has written frequently about the law, her articles appearing in publications including the Berkshire Eagle, the Hartford Courant, the Boston Globe, and the New York Times. This is her first novel. She lives with her husband, the New Yorker critic David Denby, in New York.
The Divorce Papers: A Novel Page 36