by Brenda Grate
Crispin waited for Kennedy to catch up with his notes. Once he was done, he opened his mouth to speak, but Crispin silenced him with a hand raised in the air.
“I’m not finished. Once we’ve laid out our terms, you can have a chance for your rebuttal. Now there’s the matter of spousal support since there’s no need for child support.”
Alan’s mouth dropped open and he turned to his lawyer. Kennedy just put a hand on his arm.
“Mrs. Jenkins dropped out of school in order to maintain the household and care for the children while you were building your company. In order to help support you, she lost a lot of time when she could have been educating herself in order to get a good job.”
“It was just cooking school,” Alan mumbled, a disgruntled look on his face.
Crispin glared at him and Kennedy again put his hand on his arm.
Alan slumped farther in his chair.
Emma didn’t understand what was happening. Alan looked defeated. The change since she’d last met with him and his lawyer could only be described as remarkable. She turned back to Crispin, very curious how much he would ask for in alimony.
“What’s your number, Mr. Miller?” Kennedy asked the question as though he didn’t care in the least what the answer was.
“Well, considering what I read in the financial documents, I believe Mrs. Jenkins is entitled to make at least a third of what you’re making. That puts it at one hundred thousand a year for five years.”
Alan makes three hundred thousand a year? Emma stared at Alan, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. We never saw that kind of money in our home. He could buy his own house in Greece. Why does he need my grandfather’s little run-down place?
Emma felt the pressure on her foot again and realized she had been staring daggers at the top of Alan’s head. His hair was starting to thin on top. It gave her a sense of satisfaction that not all was right in his world.
Crispin arranged his notes while waiting for Kennedy to begin his rebuttal.
“Yes,” Alan said. “I agree.”
Kennedy whipped his head toward Alan. “Let me …”
“No, it’s okay.” He turned to Crispin. “Write up the agreement and I’ll sign it.”
Crispin didn’t wait for either of them to change their minds. He got to his feet and held out a hand to help Emma up. “I will have the agreement couriered over before closing today.”
He and Emma headed for the door. “Gentlemen,” Crispin said with a nod and led Emma down the corridor and out into the bright sunshine.
The sunlight glinted off the glass door and Emma blinked. She rummaged in her bag for her sunglasses, her thoughts careening a mile a minute. She slipped the glasses on and turned to Crispin with a huge smile.
“Thank you,” she said, almost overcome with emotion.
They were halfway to their cars when Crispin said, “Fuck this,” and pulled Emma behind a van and kissed her.
When he came up for air, she grabbed onto his arms to keep her knees from giving out under her. She couldn’t speak, just stared at him.
“Sorry,” Crispin said, looking shamefaced. “I didn’t mean it to go that far. I wanted to congratulate you, but I’ve also wanted to do that for a long time.”
Emma stared into his dark eyes, her thoughts even more of a swirl. She’d just agreed to terms of divorce with her husband of twenty-six years and was already kissing another man. Well, he’d kissed her, but she’d definitely allowed it.
Ashamed, Emma stepped back, giving herself some breathing room. She couldn’t deny the attraction she felt for Crispin, but she also knew she was definitely not ready for another relationship.
Crispin’s face closed down and his eyes darkened.
She’d hurt him. She knew that. But Connie had been telling her for a long time that she had to stop taking responsibility for other people’s lives and worry about herself. Putting herself first was a concept Emma couldn’t seem to grasp. Putting herself first would mean stepping back into Crispin’s embrace, wouldn’t it?
Confused, Emma stumbled toward her car. She pulled her keys out of her bag, then turned back to see Crispin watching her. He hadn’t moved.
“Thank you for what you did today,” Emma said. “I’ll never forget it. And I’ll be able to pay you now.”
“I don’t want your money.”
Emma could barely hear him. “But you help those who can’t afford to pay. I can afford it. I will be generous. You did well in there. Actually, maybe when I come to pay your bill, you can explain to me how you got Alan to capitulate like that. He was not his normal self.”
Crispin stepped closer, but not into intimate range. “I don’t want money, Emma. I just want you to hold up your end of our deal. And yes, I’ll explain over drinks what happened with Alan.”
Emma shook her head. He was a stubborn man. “What’s my end of the deal?”
“Your house. You agreed that if I won the case for you, you would invite me to visit you in Greece at your little house. That’s all I want. I want to see you enjoying your inheritance and I want to spend a little time with you.” Crispin reached out a finger and ran it down her face, following the contours.
She swallowed hard as she imagined the same hand tracing more intimate curves.
Crispin kissed her forehead and left her by the car, wondering if she’d in fact made that agreement with him. Then she thought about being in Greece with him. Her legs started shaking so much, she opened her car and sank into the seat.
Emma leaned her head against the steering wheel and groaned. “What do I do now?”
The sharp rap on the window beside her head jolted her. She grabbed at her chest and whirled. Alan stood there looking rumpled and upset. Emma wondered if it was wise to open her door. Would he be angry?
She turned the key and lowered the window slightly.
“Can I talk to you?” Alan asked.
“Go ahead.”
Since when does he ask my permission for anything?
“Not here. Your boyfriend might come back. Meet me at the Tim Hortons on Dundas and Bay Street in ten minutes.” Without giving her a chance to answer, he walked away.
Now that’s like him, Emma fumed.
She considered pointing her car toward home and climbing into a bubble bath. She remembered she’d just purchased a nice bottle of red wine and she felt very deserving at that moment. Then curiosity won out. She really wanted to know what was going on with Alan.
Instead of driving toward home, Emma turned toward Dundas Street. The thought of a glass of wine and a bath bolstered her. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long with Alan. At least she’d have some interesting things to tell Connie later. Maybe she’d make some cookies and invite Connie over for a movie.
She tapped the hands-free button on her steering wheel and said, “Call Connie.”
Chapter 19
Emma pulled into the Tim Hortons parking lot and found a spot a few down from Alan’s Saab.
She strengthened her resolve as she stepped inside the restaurant, determined not to let him push her around this time. It had gone on far too long. More than thankful for what Crispin had accomplished today, she wouldn’t let Alan undo her good mood.
Alan had chosen a table at the back near the restrooms.
Whenever Alan felt something in their family was getting out of his control, he would schedule a “talk.” They would either meet for dinner at a restaurant of his choice—one where Emma wouldn’t be able to raise her voice or express her displeasure over his opinions—or it would be a walk in the park. The park walks were for the easy issues, ones Alan didn’t care so much about. The difficult ones he saved for a restaurant. They’d never met in a Tim Hortons, though.
She sat in the stool across from him.
“So, what did you want to talk about? I have a lot to do today.” Emma knew if she didn’t state her boundaries at the outset, Alan would run roughshod over her. Despite that, she knew he probably still would.
“Would yo
u like a coffee?”
Emma narrowed her eyes at him, tempted to ask who he really was. “I came here to talk, not for coffee. I’d never come here otherwise. You know that.”
Alan stared at her, a concerned look on his face. “What’s happened with you, Emma? You’ve changed.”
“You had something to do with that. I used to be a lot more trusting.”
Alan visibly winced. “I know and I’m sorry.”
Emma sat back in her chair, flabbergasted. “Did you just apologize to me?”
“You know I did.”
Emma shook her head at him. “What’s going on with you? First you agree without even an argument to my lawyer’s settlement, then you apologize to me. Are you feeling okay?”
Alan looked down at the table and fiddled with his coffee cup. He took a long swallow, set it back down, and finally looked up.
“Actually, that’s why I asked you to meet me here today.”
Emma studied him. In that second, she knew she wasn’t going to like his news. She didn’t know how she knew, but it was as if her future flashed before her in that moment.
Bracing herself she asked, “What is it?”
He pursed his lips together and seemed to struggle to keep his emotions in check.
Is he going to cry? Alan never cries.
“I’m dying, Emma.”
Emma gasped and grabbed for his hand. It felt cold and clammy.
“Oh, Alan.” Tears filled her eyes and began to spill down her cheeks. It didn’t matter they were in the middle of a nasty divorce. The news brought them both back to the realities of life and death and the years they’d shared together, along with the children they’d brought into the world.
“When did you find out?”
He looked pale but healthy, which considering his news, made sense. Whatever it was, it hadn’t progressed far, so maybe there was hope.
“It’s cancer.” Alan looked like he was drowning and he clung to her hand as if it was the only thing left connecting him to earth. “It’s throughout my body. The doctor told me I have six months, maybe less. He called me yesterday morning.”
Emma gave his hand a squeeze and pulled away. “You look well. How do you feel? Could the doctor have made a mistake?”
Alan’s fingers twitched like he would reach for her hand, but then they stilled. He had to know the sympathy she showed was a time-out and nothing more.
“No, I’m sure it’s not a mistake. I’d gone to see him for a checkup the week before. His assistant called to tell me the news.”
Emma frowned. “A checkup?”
He nodded.
“And they told you cancer?”
He nodded again.
“Without further tests? Have you met an oncologist?”
“Not yet. I have to book an appointment. But I was told I needed to accept it and learn to live with it. It’s too late for chemo.”
“And they told you this over the phone?”
He nodded.
“Alan, you’re smarter than that. They don’t do that sort of thing over the phone.” She wondered why she was schooling him, her nurturing instinct kicking in.
“What, you think my doctor’s lying to me?”
“I didn’t say that. Just get another opinion.”
Why Alan wouldn’t think of all this on his own was a testament to how distraught he had to be.
“Emma,” Alan whispered, a tear in his eye. “Will you come back to me?”
Her heart skipped a beat and then went double-time to catch up.
“What?”
“It’ll only be six months, maybe less. I know I don’t have the right to ask you to care for me while I’m sick, but I made a mistake of leaving you. I want to spend my last days with the woman I’ve always loved.”
Emma was afraid he would get on his knees and beg so she hurried to answer.
“Alan, we’re getting a divorce. You have a new, and I might add, pregnant girlfriend. What about her?”
“She’ll be fine. I’ll leave money for the baby. I don’t want to spend my last few months with her.”
“But you wanted to spend your healthy days with her?” Emma could feel the anger rising inside. Could he be lying?
“I made a mistake, Emma. That’s what I’m saying.”
“It took you getting terminally ill to realize it.”
“I guess some of us are more stupid than others.” Alan grabbed his coffee and took a healthy swallow. After setting it down, he said, “Please, give me another chance.”
Emma couldn’t take the look on his face any longer. She got up and grabbed her bag off the back of the chair. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
“Please, don’t leave …”
He trailed off, but Emma imagined he could have continued with “… me alone.” Alan never liked being alone. Now he was alone with his fear and Emma hated to admit it, but it looked good on him.
“Emma?” Alan stood beside the table and held out a hand to her.
“I’ll call you, okay?” She pushed her purse strap higher on her shoulder, took one last look at Alan’s beseeching face, and walked out.
She needed to find Crispin and find out if her suspicions were true. Her heart hoped they weren’t, but if he’d done what she thought he had, there was no chance for them.
That’s what bothered her the most.
Chapter 20
Bubbles rose to Connie’s chin as she sank deeper into the water. It had been a long day at the restaurant. She’d left only minutes before her legs would have collapsed under her. Rick had pushed her toward the door with a discreet kiss on the back of her neck that still lingered as though he’d tattooed it there. Connie had given him a grateful smile and escaped the messy kitchen piled with dishes. Usually they were able to keep up with everything but today was July 1, Canada Day, and it seemed everyone had decided to eat out at the same time.
Stubble tickled her toes as she ran a foot up her leg. She needed to shave, probably had needed to for a week, but she never seemed to find the time to care for the womanly things that other women seemed to do in their sleep.
Maybe it was time for a holiday. She thought about Emma’s offer of a ticket to Greece and smiled, seeing bright blue-green water, white houses on the hills and delicious Greek food. She had just moved from imagining eating in a taverna to planning their menu when the doorbell chimed.
Connie squeezed her eyes shut, hoping whoever it was would go away. It chimed again. She sat up, water sloshing over the edge and soaking into the pink bath mat.
There was only one person who would come to her house at nine in the evening and ring the doorbell a second time. And that was only in an emergency.
Connie grabbed her pink robe off the back of the bathroom door and wrapped it around her dripping body.
She quickly dried off her feet on the mat and headed for the door.
“Thanks, Con,” Emma said with a grateful smile as she took the mug of hot tea and settled into Connie’s living room.
“So, you think Crispin told Alan that he’s dying of cancer so he would sign off on the divorce agreement? Don’t you think that’s a bit extreme?”
“Yes, it’s extreme, although you don’t know how hard Alan is to deal with. Maybe Crispin thought it was the only way to make sure I’d at least get a fair deal. He had good intentions.”
Connie snorted. “Just because you want to get in the guy’s pants doesn’t mean you can excuse this.”
Emma nearly choked on her tea. “I don’t want to get in his pants.” She paused. “Okay, so I’m attracted to him, but I’m also seriously angry that he would do something like this.”
“Do you know for sure he did it?” Connie set her mug on the coffee table and leaned back in her comfortable chair, tucking her legs under her. She twisted her long hair into a bun and snapped the elastic from her wrist around it.
“Does a doctor’s assistant phone someone to tell them they’re dying of cancer?”
“Not that I�
�ve heard of, no, but Alan’s doctor could be an asshole. Considering who Alan is, he might have chosen someone like himself.”
“That’s not funny.” The warm cinnamon and apple flavor of her tea soothed her ragged nerves. Ever since she’d met with Alan, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Crispin and how she was going to confront him. He hadn’t been answering his phone, so she’d been stewing. She wanted to talk to him and get it over with, but there was no satisfaction forthcoming. At least not until morning.
“When are you leaving for your trip?” Connie asked. “I was thinking I’d take you up on the offer of the other ticket if Brad doesn’t.”
Emma felt lost for words.
“Look, you’ve already been allowing yourself to stress far too much over all this. Let’s talk about something happy, okay?”
Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay,” she said. “Are you serious about coming with me?”
“Absolutely. I need a change. And if Jen is coming, then I think you also need a mediator.”
“I’m sure we’ll get along fine, although I know we’d both love to have you along.”
Connie laughed and picked up her tea. She took a sip and studied Emma over the top of the mug. “Has something changed since the last time I saw you two together?”
The way Jen treated her had been a sore spot for a long time, especially in light of how Jen adored Connie. As much as she loved her friend, it had always been difficult to see her own daughter prefer someone else almost from birth.
“No, nothing has changed,” Emma mumbled. “But I’m changing things. I want my daughter to respect me.”
“She does. Much more than you know. She just needs you to stand up to her once in a while.”
“And I’m going to. Maybe you could give us a week alone and then join us?”
Connie smiled. “I think that’s a great idea. When do you leave?”
“Our tickets are for Friday.”
“That’s in two days,” Connie yelped. “Are you packed? What are you doing here? You should be packing.”