Sunrise on Half Moon Bay Page 11

  “I’m so angry,” she whispered.

  “Of course you are,” he said. “Hell, I’m angry for you! Sometimes talking about it helps.”

  “I’m leaning on you. I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t apologize. Tell me about this fantasy practice.”

  She leaned back against her pillows. “In my mind there are a variety of clients with varying issues. Property settlement, estate issues, divorce, lawsuits, business sales or closures. I think I could consult with local tech firms I’ve worked with in the past. It would be so refreshing to help people with things that will make their lives better. Adoption. Prenups. Partnership agreements. Family trusts. Charitable foundations. The neighborhood law office.” She took a sip of her wine. “I could do other things, even that of a criminal nature. Arrests, DUI, custodial interference. Then there’s personal injury claims. It takes a while to build a practice, but there’s no shortage of need for legal services.”

  “Wow. Well, Georgie and I retired from the police department at the same time. We each had twenty-five years in, retired as lieutenants and went together to an existing PI firm. We had worked together as detectives for ten years, so moving to the same PI firm as a team worked for us. What’s your first step? Look for space?”

  “I suppose,” she said. “I’m also looking at existing practices, just to get a feel for things. Small legal practices. Most that I’ve seen so far specialize in either personal injury or divorce or medical malpractice.” She took another sip. “I’d like an office in an old building that maybe was built out of a restored office or house. There should be a kitchen. Best case scenario there would be a fireplace. That would add comfort on those cold, foggy days from November to April. I like old houses and buildings but then, why wouldn’t I—I grew up in Half Moon Bay, one of the oldest towns on the coast.”

  “So, you’ve come to terms with your marriage being over?” he asked.

  “I’m not done grieving, but I don’t want that marriage anymore. The more I think about the last ten years, the more I suspect this woman is merely the most recent affair. Scott had a lot of time on his hands. He could afford to be bored and restless.”

  “If Scott has to go to work, it could be the best thing that ever happened to him,” Logan said.

  “You’re right. He’s only fifty-two, and what he’ll get in a settlement and alimony won’t keep him through old age. Maybe he thinks his new woman will support him.”

  “Not if the woman owns the kayak shack,” Logan said. “Does any part of your fantasy involve things other than work? Your kids will be in college before you know it. What will you do for fun?”

  “Funny you should ask. I’ve been thinking a lot about that because for the last twenty years I’ve been working too hard. I was well compensated. I have no regrets. But I wouldn’t mind a little leisure time and entertainment. I rarely saw a movie because the only things Scott wanted to see either had a gun or a ball in it. The girls and I went to a few chick flicks, but it was rare. I love movies. There just never seemed to be any time. I spent weekends catching up on chores and work from the office.”

  “Building a law practice is not going to be a vacation, but if you want to succeed, you have to find time to do the things you like. What do you like?”

  “I like to spend an entire afternoon on the couch or the chaise outside, reading. I like to garden. That takes commitment, but I’ve done it before. Long ago, sure. I like concerts...”

  “There’s live music in the parks everywhere,” he said. “San Francisco has some great outdoor music all over the place.”

  “You do that?” she asked.

  “I’ve been known to. In fact, I’m looking at a place in Carmel. Small, grossly expensive, old, close to the water. The only downside is tourists. Billions of them.”

  “Why Carmel?”

  “Georgie is in Santa Rosa, north of the city, so I’m determined to find something south. I’ve looked all over the towns below San Francisco. When we get a case, I’ll work mostly in the south and she’ll do fieldwork north of the city. We see each other in the office or work together a couple of days a week. Otherwise we’re in touch via phone or computer. And I like Carmel. Except, you know, all the tourists... What about you?”

  “I’ll stay where I am until I figure out where I’m going to work. And I’m not going to figure that out until the divorce is final. Scott and I might take turns staying with the girls. I mean, we might each get something small and efficient, then take turns in the big house with the kids. That could work, couldn’t it?”

  “Depends on what kind of closure you need.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” she said. “Closure. That’s kind of hard if you have to keep seeing each other, sharing space even if you’re not both there are the same time.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “It could work as a good transition...”

  “Hmm, yes.” And then she thought, transition, closure, focusing on what you have, not what you lost, the next challenge... His common sense about divorce was very helpful. “Really, Logan, I can’t thank you enough.”

  “Any time, Justine. Once you’re in your next life, we’ll get together for a drink or something. I know you’re going to have big things to report. But meanwhile, you have my number. And I have yours.”

  * * *

  Every morning Adele rose early, took her walk, then headed to Banyon Community College with great enthusiasm. She listened raptly to every client coming in the door, and if they didn’t volunteer much, she would take a glance at their intake sheet to see if she could piece together their needs or purpose, even though that wasn’t really her job.

  She began to see repeat clients and welcomed them by name. “Hi, Alexandra. How’s your mom?” Alexandra was a recovering agoraphobic whose mother had MS and was recently admitted to a nursing home.

  “Hey there, Leslie. Any news on your college admission?” Leslie, formerly military and recently homeless, had just applied to community college. She also now had a modest place to live in a community devoted to homeless veterans.

  “Rosalee, you look fantastic!” She was dressed in business attire she’d gotten from a charity that specialized in office appropriate hand-me-downs for women in need of such clothing.

  “Today is my interview dress rehearsal,” Rosalee said, smiling.

  After ten days on the job, Addie felt as if her life had become an adventure. She was getting to know the clients, employees and volunteers, looking forward to each day’s lunch hour as the time she spent getting to know her new friends. Fran was divorced and the mother of teenagers. Her ex-husband moved home to his native New Jersey and rarely saw his son and daughter. Addie didn’t know why she was surprised, but she was pleased that Fran had a boyfriend. He was a cop, also divorced, and she talked about him with great pride, especially when mentioning how good he was with his kids as well as hers. Ross had an ex-husband and a couple of grown kids; she had raised them primarily on her own, finishing her college degree after they were born. But Felicity took the cake. She was thirty-five, slight of build and kind of fragile looking but brighter than sunshine. She was a social worker and had been with the center for five years. Adele learned that Felicity, so bubbly and happy and positive, had lost her young husband and five-year-old son in a small plane crash six years ago. Ross had whispered this to Adele. It caused Adele to look at Felicity with caution, wondering how one survived something like that, wondering what was buried beneath the surface.

  Adele started her job ten days ago, making do with clothes she already had but they were hanging off her frame, so she went to the mall for some new, smaller outfits. Walking and the routine of working had even more of a slimming effect, and while she noticed it in the feel of her clothes, there were just so many things on her mind, she didn’t know which change to give all the credit to. Everything in her life was different. She was working, she had frie
nds, she’d lost weight, she was exercising and feeling healthier and her life, all of it, felt brand-new.

  She was thinking about how good it felt to take control of her life when Justine walked into her office unannounced.

  “Hi,” she said, walking right up to the desk.

  “Justine! What are you doing here?” Adele asked, standing.

  “I wanted to see this for myself,” she said, smiling. “You, working in an office.” Then she looked Adele up and down. “My God! Look at you!” She kept her volume down but her enthusiasm was evident. “Oh my God, you said you lost a few pounds! I think you lost fifty! You look fabulous!”

  “Thanks,” she said. But then she took a closer look at Justine. Her sister was wasting away. “You’ve lost a little weight...”

  “Not too much,” she said, shaking her head. “You know. The famous divorce diet. I could spare it.”

  Really, she couldn’t. Justine was thin as a whip before learning of Scott’s affair. Learning of it because Adele told her.

  “Let me tell my boss I’m breaking for lunch. This may take a few minutes. I have to find someone to man the desk.”

  “No worries, Addie. We don’t have to have lunch. I just wanted to stop by and say hello. I’ll just let you get back to work and—”

  “No, we’re going to take lunch. It’s okay. I eat in every day so this is a good idea. One minute.”

  Rather than bothering Fran, she went to Ross. “My sister dropped by just to see me working, and I’d like to take her to lunch. She’s going through a divorce, and she looks like she’s wasting away. Can you cover me for an hour?”

  Ross made a face, but not because she was put upon. “I gained thirty pounds with my divorce. See? I told you life is not fair.”

  “I promise to be back in an hour or less.”

  “You take your time, Adele. You’ve been putting in some long days, helping me.”

  When she went back to the reception area, Justine was gone. She grabbed her purse out of the desk drawer and stepped outside to find her sister waiting in the hall. With tears in her eyes. Addie had never witnessed that before. “There you are! I was half afraid you’d bolted! What on earth is the matter?”

  “I’m sorry,” Justine said. “I’m a little overwhelmed by how wonderful you look!” She dug around in her handbag for a nonexistent tissue. Addie finally gave her one. “That’s the price I pay for not coming to see you in so long.”

  “We were both so busy,” Addie said. “Come on. Let me feed you.”

  “I’m really not that hungry,” Justine said.

  “Are you going to let a divorce kill you? You have to eat!”

  “It turns out you don’t have to eat very much,” she said. “But a quiet place to talk would be nice.”

  Chapter Seven

  Addie directed them to a nearby pub. It was just off campus, so it was crowded.

  “I think it’s just stress,” Justine said, referring to her weight loss. “I’ve been running myself ragged, getting everything in order for the divorce, taking the girls to counseling and just trying to be there for them, anticipating one or both having a crisis.”

  “And they’re okay?” Addie asked.

  “We’ve had a few emotional moments but they’re largely stable. It’s as if nothing is happening because to them it doesn’t feel as if much has changed.”

  “How can that be?”

  “Well, Scott and I have an oath not to say anything terrible about each other. They know Scott is in love with another woman, even though he won’t admit it. All he will admit to is that they have a lot in common and they enjoy the same things, that they get along and have become very close.”

  “Come on! You don’t walk away from a thirty-year marriage and two kids because you have a new friend! Do the girls think you accept this?” Adele asked.

  “No,” she said. “No, they know how much this hurts me. But I’ve told them they will always have two parents. We will both do our best to be good parents in spite of the fact that we’re not going to be married.”

  “I can’t imagine,” Adele said. “What about her?”

  “The woman?” Justine asked. “That’s where I draw the line. I’m not welcoming her into my family. I might have no control, but... I don’t want her around my kids if I can help it. I don’t know how she landed Scott. I don’t know if he’s just an idiot or if she’s amazingly manipulative. It doesn’t matter, does it? He is throwing away everything we’ve built for a woman with a failing business, no assets and a bad track record in relationships. So, I made a term of divorce that we’ll split the equity in the house if she never sets foot in it. Never, ever. If she does, he relinquishes his half of the equity. He didn’t contest it. He signed off on our settlement.”

  “How will you know?” Addie asked.

  Justine smiled. “Cameras. In the most unusual places. I don’t trust him the smallest bit. He will lose the house.”

  Adele was quiet for a moment. “Let’s order some lunch. Look at your menu.”

  Justine opened it and gave it a glance. “I’m not all that hungry...”

  “But you have to eat something. You’re just too thin right now. For the first time in my life, I’m worried about you.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. Justine found it impossible to say that food just didn’t agree with her, that she was having trouble keeping it down. Admitting that made her feel weak. “Maybe a little soup or something,” she said.

  “Are you just not eating?” Addie asked. “I understand, you’ve been through a terrible shock, but you can’t let yourself get sick. You have to eat. I have to see you eat.”

  “I’ll eat,” Justine said.

  “Scott should have trouble eating,” Adele said. “The bastard.”

  Justine studied the menu. “Scott is gone,” Justine said. “I don’t know the man who has taken his place. This one is emotionally vacant, except when he talks about just wanting to be happy. I thought he was happy. I supported his desire to indulge his outdoorsy pastimes, and he encouraged and praised my work. Then something happened, but it happened so slowly I didn’t see it. I thought we’d merged into a new kind of love, one not pressured by constant need and desperate passion. And that was okay with me, as long as I had my best friend and confidant and partner. And some affection—I needed that. Some touching and holding. That Scott needed it a lot less than he used to never concerned me.” She sighed deeply. “I’ve been going through our banking records. The cheating has been going on a while.” The waitress came to the table. “I’ll have a cup of chicken tortilla soup,” Justine said.

  “Would you like bread with that?” the waitress asked.

  “No,” Justine said. “Thank you.”

  “Bring her bread,” Addie said. “For me, can you please bring me a lettuce, tomato and avocado salad with a scoop of tuna salad or grilled chicken strips? No bread. A little ranch dressing on the side. And a diet soda. Justine, do you want something to drink?”

  “The same. Diet cola.”

  “Talk to me,” Adele said once the waitress left. “Tell me where your head is.”

  “We’ve talked every few days for weeks,” Justine said.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t see you. Clearly we’ve been skimming the surface in our talks. Is it completely over with Scott? Is there no hope?”

  “Addie, I’m afraid to try again, and Scott doesn’t want to. I’ve asked him countless times. He thinks this might be for the best. He wants to divide the assets and part ways. We haven’t actually separated because he claims to have nowhere to go and I don’t know what I’m going to do next—I’m thinking about what I want. We’re going to share the house and parenting duties for a few more weeks, at least. It will take some scheduling finesse. And a spine of steel...” Justine dabbed at her mouth, though she hadn’t been eating. “At first I thought maybe I coul
d save the marriage if he at least wanted to, but then I looked at the bank statements. He’s been taking hundreds and hundreds of dollars out of a debit machine every month. For what? Cash at the hotel? Dinner in a nice restaurant? Her car payments or something else she needed? I’d ask him, but there’s no chance I’ll get a straight honest answer. Hundreds, Addie. Thousands! Small withdrawls every two or three days for a couple of years. He’s been lying and cheating and creating a narrative in which it’s my fault for putting in long hours. That’s probably the most painful thing. I’m hearing from friends, you know. Friends who have talked to Scott. He’s telling a story of a cold, overly busy, neglectful wife who put her career first, didn’t participate in family activities, ignored him. I’m so angry with him I want to kill him. He’s used me and played the field. I don’t know what he sees in her.” Their drinks came. Justine lifted hers. “But she has kayaks. You know how Scott loves toys.”

  “And activities,” Addie said.

  “He’s telling everyone our split is my fault, but he knew exactly what he wanted. Cash. He didn’t ask for half the pictures or books or special things we’d gotten as wedding gifts. Just money. Money and half the value of the house.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What I said I would do from the start—give him what he wants right up to half. He liked the zeroes. There are a few caveats—as long as we’re joint tenants, he has to pay his half of the mortgage or lose his half of the house. He signed off. I’ll be legally divorced in a matter of weeks. In fact, any minute. And then he’s not getting another thing from me, not even a smile.”

  Their lunches arrived. Addie buttered some bread and slid it over to Justine. She cut up her tomato and avocado slices, dipped her fork in the dressing and then stabbed a bit of chicken.

  Justine smiled. “You look amazing,” she said. “Addie, I’ve neglected you. We were both raised as only children, but you hung in there with Mom through the dark years, when she barely communicated.”