Page 48 of The Perfect Divorce

I hear my purse unzip and rezip. “Bye, Mom. Love you,” she says before she leaves the house.

I return my attention to Eleanor. Her wilted lips are firmly pressed together, and I can hear her teeth—actually dentures—grinding as she clenches her jaw, moving it back and forth.

“Who’s the father?” she asks.

“My husband.”

Eleanor scowls. “Did youevereven love my son?”

“Of course, I did,” I say. “But he’s been gone a long time.”

“No, he hasn’t. It’s only been a little over a year.” She narrows her eyes and shakes her head in disgust.

“You know what I mean, Eleanor.”

“No, I don’t know what you mean, Sarah. Adam wanted nothing more than to be a father, and you withheld that from him. Besides, what kind of name is Summer anyway? It’s not even a name. It’s a season.”

I don’t answer her because she wouldn’t understand, and I wouldn’t explain it to her either. Giving my daughter the name Summer was my gift to Kelly Summers, a way to honor her and her unborn child. After all, she was just a casualty in my war against Adam, and it was Kelly who freed me from him. I’m forever indebted to her for her sacrifice, although she didn’t have a choice in it. Wrong place, wrong time, as they say. And that wrong place was my husband’s dick, and that wrong time was the duration of our marriage. Bob never put two and two together, never even questioned it. I told him summer was my favorite season, and that was the reason for the name.

“Was that everything you came here for, Eleanor?”

“No,” she says, lifting her chin. Her bony hand disappears into her oversized designer bag and reemerges with a manila envelope clutched in it. “I thought I’d do you the courtesy before it was official.”

I squint as she extends it to me. “What’s this?”

She smirks. “Open it.”

I don’t want to give her the satisfaction, but I bend the clasp, lift the flap, and pull out a small stack of papers, quickly scanning them. “You’re suing me for defamation?” I say, meeting her gleeful gaze.

She nods. “That’s right. You made false statements about my mental state, which is detrimental to the civil lawsuit I’m bringing against the Prince William County Sheriff’s Office. I would have sued you for legal malpractice in Adam’s case, but lucky for you, the statute of limitations lapsed.”

“You know you can’t legally serve me. You’re a party in the lawsuit,” I say, cocking my head.

“I know.” Eleanor rises from her seat and picks up her purse, gripping the handles. “You’ll be properly served soon enough. I just wanted to give you the courtesy of knowing what’s to come.” She turns on her heel and starts toward the front door, signaling that her work here is done.

“I think you just wanted to revel in it,” I say.

Eleanor pauses, briefly glancing over her shoulder. “That too.” She smirks again.

I don’t say anything back, because I know if I do, she’ll just keep talking. The front door slams, punctuating her exit, and I sigh out of annoyance, flinging the papers onto the kitchen table. I’ll let her have the last word because it’s all she has left in this world.

TWENTY-SEVEN

BOB MILLER

Walking through downtown Manassas at night reminds me just how little the town has to offer, especially compared to DC. But what DC has in nightlife, restaurants, entertainment, and everything else you would expect from the seventh-largest metro area in the country, Manassas makes up for in other areas. It’s quiet, peaceful, safe (for some), and one can easily find solitude. The sound of my own footsteps echoes off the brick façades, and I can even hear the buzz of the few streetlamps illuminating the closed shops. The ring of my phone startles me. I fumble with my pocket to finally retrieve it.Brad Watsonis splayed across the screen.

“Hey, Brad,” I answer as I dip into a nearby alley and lean against the side of a building.

“How ya hangin’ in there, Bob?”

“How do you think I’m doing? My wife is divorcing me and trying to take my daughter, and the woman I had an affair with has vanished into thin air.” I flail my free hand, even though he can’t see it.

“Look, I know this isn’t easy but you just gotta stay cool. Losing your shit isn’t going to help you get custody of Summer. I need your mind sharp, okay?”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“True, but you also know I’m right.”