Aftermath

by Ann McMan

  Maddie and Syd exchanged glances.

  “Well, honey,” Syd began. “We maybe can do better than that. Your daddy is actually coming home very soon.”

  Henry’s eyes grew wide. “He is? Will he come here to live with us?”

  Syd looked at Maddie, who took the nonverbal handoff.

  “Sport, the reason that your daddy is coming home sooner than we thought is because there was an accident, and he got hurt. He’s coming home so he can be in a hospital where they can take good care of him until he can be with you again.”

  Henry looked confused. “Is he at your hospital? Can we go see him?”

  “No, honey. He’s in an Army hospital near Baltimore. But, yes, we can go and see him in a little while, after he’s had a chance to rest and get stronger.”

  “Can’t he come here so you can take care of him?”

  Maddie ran a hand through his dark hair. “I wish he could, Henry. But right now, your daddy needs special doctors who are soldiers, too. They will take very good care of him, and soon, he’ll be able to go home. “

  “How did he get hurt?”

  “There was an explosion, and the truck your daddy was riding in got blown-up.”

  “Like the Camaro?” he asked.

  “Well. No. Not exactly like that. This happened because the truck ran over a bomb along the roadside.”

  Henry looked confused. “Why would somebody blow up a car on purpose?”

  Maddie shook her head. “I wish I could explain that to you, sport. But sometimes, when countries are at war, people do things that don’t seem to make very much sense, and people get hurt.”

  “Is he gonna be okay?”

  Maddie nodded. “Yes, he is. Your daddy is very lucky. But his left leg was badly hurt, so they had to take part of it off,” she shifted in her seat to show Henry her own leg, “from here down.”

  Henry’s eyes grew wide. “Did that hurt?”

  “I’m sure it hurt a lot. But your daddy is very strong, and he had very good doctors taking care of him.”

  “Like you?” he asked.

  “Just like her—only soldiers,” Syd added. “And, honey, your daddy will get a substitute leg that will work almost as well as the one he lost in the accident.”

  “Can I see it?”

  Syd nodded. “When his doctors tell us that it’s okay for us to go and visit.”

  “When can we do that?”

  “We’re not sure, honey. But hopefully very soon.”

  “Can Gramma go, too?”

  Syd looked at Maddie.

  “I wish she could, Henry,” Maddie said. “But Gramma needs special care, so she can’t make long trips like this. When we go see your daddy, we’re going to have to take an airplane.”

  Henry was excited now. “We’re getting to take two trips in the airplane?”

  He knew about the trip to Baltimore to pick up Celine.

  Maddie nodded. “We sure are. But I think that when we go see your daddy, we might all ride on a big airplane, so Syd can go, too.”

  Henry looked at Syd’s left leg, propped up in its purple cast. “You’re just like daddy. I bet you will have a lot to talk about.”

  Maddie and Syd looked at each other.

  He collected his drawings. “Can I go show these to Uncle David?”

  Maddie nodded.

  Henry started out of the kitchen at his customary breakneck speed. He seemed to do everything fast—especially growing up.

  “Walk, buddy,” Maddie called after him.

  She looked back at Syd and sighed.

  “From the mouths of babes,” Syd said.

  “No kidding,” Maddie agreed. She reached a hand across the table, and Syd met her halfway.

  “That went a lot better than it could have,” Syd said.

  “I know. We’re lucky. He’s a pretty resilient kid.”

  “I guess we don’t suck too badly as surrogate parents.”

  Maddie smiled at her. “I don’t think we suck at all.”

  Syd tightened her hold on Maddie’s hand. “Why do I think that the hardest part of this is yet to come?”

  “For him, or for us?”

  Syd shrugged and met her eyes. “Yes?”

  Maddie leaned across the table and kissed her. “I guess Henry isn’t the only babe dispensing wisdom around here.”

  Chapter 11

  “HOW DO YOU want to handle this?”

  Syd looked across the desk at her new attorney. Michelle Westin was a pretty woman. With her short, stylish hair and hazel eyes, she looked more like a twenty-something sorority sister than a hard-nosed trial lawyer. But Michael said she had the best reputation in southwest Virginia, and she was also licensed to practice in North Carolina. Syd was lucky just to get the appointment. They were meeting in her Wytheville satellite office, where she kept hours twice a month.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Syd replied. “What are my options?”

  Michelle lowered the stack of papers from Jeff’s lawyers. “Essentially, you have three. One: you can reconcile.”

  Syd shook her head.

  “Didn’t think so,” Michelle said. “Two: you can request mediation.”

  “What does that really mean?” Syd asked.

  “It means that you both agree to sit down for an undetermined number of sessions with a third-party mediator who will try to help you resolve your differences amicably.”

  “I thought we had already done that.”

  Michelle nodded. “It seems that your husband has changed his mind.”

  Syd sighed. “What’s the third option?”

  Michelle sat back in her chair. “We face him in court before a judge, provide compelling evidence of his infidelity, and hope that you walk away with a divorce decree.”

  Syd closed her eyes. When she opened them, Michelle was quietly watching her. She was slowly rotating a paper clip between her thumb and forefinger.

  “Why is he doing this?” Syd asked. She really meant it as a rhetorical question.

  Michelle shrugged. “You tell me.”

  Syd looked at her in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  “You were within weeks of a final decree, and he changed his mind. He must have had a reason. Have you had any contact with him?”

  Syd shook her head. “No. None.”

  “Has anything in your personal life changed? Anything he could have discovered and taken exception to?”

  Syd didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. “What I do with my personal life is none of his business.”

  “Unfortunately, it is his business as long as you’re still his wife.”

  Syd opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it.

  Michelle sighed. “Look, Syd. This is going to go a lot better if all the cards are on the table.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Michelle seemed to shift gears. “You said that your husband is from a family of means. Is that correct?”

  Syd nodded.

  “And you also said that you signed a pre-nup agreement before your marriage—is that also accurate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does your husband have any kind of trust fund?”

  “Yes.” Syd grew uneasy as she got the drift of Michelle’s questions.

  Michelle sighed. “I really don’t think it’s too hard to connect the dots here, do you?”

  Syd felt embarrassed and vaguely light-headed. How could she be so stupid? “But that’s ridiculous. I’m not after his money. And even if I were, the pre-nup would take care of that, wouldn’t it?”

  “It doesn’t matter what you’re after, Syd. It only matters how the State of North Carolina chooses to divide what it regards as community property. And as for the pre-nup—I won’t be able to make any kind of assessment there until I can see a copy of it. You didn’t, by chance, bring one with you today, did you?”

  Syd shook her head. “I don’t even have one, as far as I’m aware.”

>   “Then I’ll have to request a copy from,” she sifted through the pages of the letter, “Mr. Graber. Until then, we’ll just have to plan for the worst and hope for the best.”

  “But this doesn’t make any sense. Why would he suddenly decide to make an issue out of this? Why wouldn’t he just ask me not to make any claim on his precious inheritance? I’ve never wanted his money.”

  Michelle watched her in silence for a moment. “As I said, something must have changed his mind.” She continued to rotate the paper clip. “Any thoughts about what that might be?”

  Syd stared back at her. She felt uncomfortable—like she’d just walked into a job interview with something stuck in her teeth. She began to get a sense of what it might be like to face this woman in a courtroom. It was clear that Michelle had something specific in mind.

  Enough was enough.

  “Why don’t you just go ahead and ask me about whatever it is that’s plainly dangling here between us?” she said.

  Michelle seemed to dial back her aggressive stare. She dropped her paper clip. “I’m not your antagonist, Syd.”

  “Really? Then why do I feel like I’m turning on a spit over here?”

  Michelle smiled. “Okay. Fair enough.” She leaned forward in her chair. “Tell me about your relationship with Dr. Stevenson.”

  “With—” Syd began. “How do you know about that?”

  “I’d venture to guess that the entire county knows about that, Syd.”

  Syd looked at her in amazement. “You don’t seriously think that Jeff . . .”

  “Wealthy family. Trust fund. Philandering husband defends his behavior by alleging that his wife left him for another woman.” Michelle shrugged. “In my profession, we call that a blue plate special.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I didn’t even know Maddie when I left Jeff to move up here.”

  “Were there other women before Dr. Stevenson?”

  Syd could feel herself blush. “Of course not.”

  “Can you prove that?”

  Syd was speechless.

  Silence fell between them like the curtain that drops between acts of an opera.

  “Do you see now what we might be up against if we face him in court?” Michelle asked in a more congenial tone.

  Syd nodded.

  “I’m sorry to be so hard on you, but you need to know where this might all be headed.”

  Syd slowly shook her head. “I just don’t get it. Why would he want to do this?”

  “People do all kinds of things when they’re hurt and angry. He may just want to stop you from ruining his reputation.”

  “How?” she asked. “By ruining mine?”

  “No,” Michelle said quietly. “Not yours.”

  Syd stared at her in disbelief.

  Oh, my god.

  “ARE YOU GOING to tell me what she said?”

  Maddie was watching Syd fold clothes. She was seated at the kitchen table, and tidy stacks of darks and lights stood tall around her like obelisks. Since the boys had moved in, laundry had taken on a whole new meaning. Just pairing socks was now an enterprise that required focus and concentration. Syd was adamant about taking on this role since her casted leg rendered her incapable of performing many other routine housekeeping tasks.

  She pulled a pink and gray argyle sock from a pile of solids and held it up.

  “Is this yours?” she asked, sweetly.

  “Hardly,” Maddie replied.

  Syd tossed it back into the laundry basket on the floor next to her chair, where it became part of a growing pile.

  “How is it possible for David to have so many socks without mates?”

  Maddie shrugged. “I think that’s a question for Carl Sagan.”

  “Well, next time we run into him, let’s remember to ask.”

  Syd continued to sort socks.

  Maddie watched her in silence for another minute. “Sweetheart?”

  Syd looked up at her.

  “Tell me about your meeting with Michelle Westin.”

  Syd took a deep breath, and expelled it slowly. “Do I have to?”

  “You might as well. I came home early to find out, and eventually you’ll run out of socks.” She sighed. “You should also know that I’m determined to sit here until you do.”

  Syd pushed her jumbled pile of laundry away and turned to her. “How do you always do that?”

  Maddie frowned. “How do I always do what?”

  “How do you always make me forget what I’m pissed off about?”

  “Oh, that,” Maddie said. “I’m afraid I can’t share that with you. You don’t have the proper clearance.”

  “I don’t?”

  Maddie looked her over. “Nope. Not seeing it.”

  Syd leaned toward her. “Maybe you need to look closer?”

  Maddie raised an eyebrow. “Is that an invitation?”

  Syd bent forward and kissed her. “What do you think?”

  Maddie sighed. “I think it’s nearly three o’clock in the afternoon, and you’re trying to distract me.”

  Syd looped her arms around Maddie’s neck. “How am I doing?”

  “Normally, you wouldn’t have to ask me that question.”

  “I know.” Syd kissed her again. “Why is today different?”

  Maddie took hold of her arms and gently lowered them. “Because it’s clear that we need to talk about whatever it is you’re trying to avoid.”

  Syd leaned her forehead against Maddie’s. “I know. I’m sorry to be such a pain in the ass.”

  “You’re about the furthest thing in the world from being a pain in my ass.”

  “I wish that were true.”

  “It is true.”

  Syd sat back and looked at her sadly. “Not for long. Michelle thinks that Jeff is going to drag our relationship through the mud, alleging that it’s my real motivation for seeking a divorce, and besmirch your reputation in the process.”

  Maddie was silent for a moment. “Is that all?”

  Syd gave her an incredulous look. “Isn’t that enough?”

  Maddie shrugged. “I don’t see how he could expect to gain anything by doing that.”

  “Darling, I think you’re missing the part where Jeff publicly outs you as the other woman in this ludicrous little costume drama.”

  Maddie laughed. “Honey . . . this would hardly be breaking news. We’ve been living together for the better part of two years now.”

  Syd stared at her in amazement. “But surely you don’t want something lurid like this being broadcast in the local media?”

  “It wouldn’t be in the local media, Syd. If this goes to trial, it’ll be back in North Carolina. And, frankly, I don’t give a rat’s ass about who knows what, where you and I are concerned. We don’t exactly hide the nature of our relationship right now, and I don’t see any reason to have to start.”

  “What about your practice?”

  Maddie shrugged. “My practice won’t suffer much. And if it does, it does. We go on.”

  “And what about my job? Are you forgetting that I’m a public school teacher?”

  “No,” Maddie shook her head. “I’m not forgetting that. I’ll admit that we might have to do some fancy footwork there.”

  “And what about Henry?”

  “Henry will be just fine—as long as we keep a watchful eye on the contents of Astrid’s toy box.”

  Syd laughed. “You’re dramatically over-simplifying this.”

  “I know.”

  “But I love you for that.”

  “I know that, too.”

  Syd rolled her eyes. “You know . . . I’d really like to kick his cheating, pampered ass for this.”

  “Me, too,” Maddie agreed. “But since we can’t, we need to do the next best thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  Maddie smiled. “We let Michelle do it for us.”