Previously…

The lawyer’s letter ended with a reminder that I supply any revisions within two weeks. Upon agreement, he advised he would either send a paralegal with the paperwork or if I preferred, he or I would contact Tina to arrange a meeting to go over the terms.

I dreaded this encounter, as it would indeed confirm the finality of it all. At the same time, I looked forward to it. I wanted to see her for more than the stilted five minutes usually in the presence of our friends that had become customary.

But would she come?

___


Whereas, after mature consideration and judgment, it will be in their own respective best interests to enter into this Separation Agreement and Property Settlement; and

Whereas, each party will read this Agreement, fully understand the terms, conditions and provisions; said agreement will be revised until each party deems such to be fair, just, and equitable; and

Whereas, Ms. Porter has secured representation from this firm, Ms. Kennard is free to seek independent legal counsel from an attorney of her respective choice;

Mr. Maxwell paused, addressed me directly, “Ms. Kennard, please note should you agree, for expediency, you may choose to retain representation from a member of this firm given Ms. Porter has agreed to make any and all concessions thereby eliminating any conflict of interest. All terms are subject to your revision including decisions on all property, monetary amounts and methods of disbursement as detailed in the Amendments Section.”

So I had control over revisions and amendments. That’s incredibly generous. Momentarily, I feel all-powerful. If only I could amend the affair, could I revise that and erase it from reality? Regrettably no. I’m quickly bereft of this feeling of omnipotence.

My head started to hurt after the next ten minutes of the lawyer spouting legal jargon and terms of the agreement. After a while everything was just a jumble of words selectively heard yet entirely ominous:

Initial payout…cashier’s check or bank account established under your name…Residence…Tangible personal property located at residence …Automobiles…Debts…Waivers…Parties to divide between themselves, to their mutual satisfaction… Intangible personal property…Transfers of property…Binding effect…


I stole a glance over at Bette but she’s seemingly engrossed in the paperwork in front of her. She was so despondent when we met in the foyer at the appointed hour. When I agreed to meet her, I half expected her to try to restate her case and be witness to a repeat performance of her pleadings and monotonous aria of apologies.

Instead, I got exactly what she described when we talked last week. Instead, we’re here, in a law office going over who gets what. She did as promised though; she tried to keep things light between us.

“Just so you know, I won’t ask you to forgive me today. Don’t say I’m as obtuse as I usually am – took me a while but I’ve detected the pattern!” We both managed to smile at her attempt at levity. “Thank you for coming. Let’s get through this together ok?”

I smiled in response and asked her how she was. Fine she said, then urged on by the occasion she continued sharing she’d been better. I echoed her sentiment when she inquired about my current state. I’m sure the sadness in her eyes was mirrored in mine.

Secretly a part of me longed for the apologetic Bette, a confirmation of her still needing and wanting me. That she still fought for us. What a diametric battle raging within me – I needed the distance as I grieved over us fueled by the excruciating pain, anger and quiet desperation yet I also wanted her to continue her wary approach for my attention.

We continued into the building and were calmly ushered into the conference room. It was warmly decorated. A smaller circular table left of a rectangular one that crowded the room. We chose the smaller table and sat across each other while the receptionist advised us Mr. Maxwell was joining us shortly just as he walked in signaling the start of this endeavor.

Inaudibly, I sigh with regret. I missed her face. Her presence. Her smell. I missed us. After seven years together that’s natural I’m sure. I just never expected to be here.

It all started when Alice told me Bette had called for me while I was out with Helena last week.

She and I have been dating for about three weeks. Well we’ve known each other about three months before that – since she visited the Center announcing the grant award. Her professional interest was now, clearly coupled with a personal one.

How could I help it – I was flattered. She was clearly interested. However, I didn’t want to commence a relationship, casual or otherwise so soon after the breakup. Well I’m not sure if almost nine months still qualifies as ‘soon after’. We spent time together on a few projects at the Center and became friends. How cliché, we were friends first…isn’t almost everyone?

Initially the prospect was a distraction from my loneliness. But over a short period my attraction has grown. I’m still a bit confused. I don’t know if I’m ready. She’s so attentive and charming, much like Bette was especially when we first got together; that marked behavior continued during most of our seven-year entanglement although not so much the latter years. Then again, maybe that applied to me too.

I digress. . .out with Helena I mentioned earlier.

We attended a premiere and promptly thereafter, she surprised me with a late dinner at an obviously exclusive restaurant by the pier. Everything was so easy, all arrangements made. I was extremely relaxed and enjoyed the night thoroughly. The leisurely evening was filled with light conversation and companionable silence. The only discomfort, at least for me, at the dinner’s conclusion as she silently asked where to proceed.

“Thank you so much for this night. I enjoyed myself immensely. Would you mind if you dropped me off at Alice’s?” I laugh nervously continuing, “I’m embarrassed to say I’m a bit tired.”