“Look, Carmen, I’m trying to make a point. The work I did at the firm is fair game. And the retirement plan and all. But my outside investments are something that I earned fair and square on my own. Frankly, if I hadn’t had to take care of you and the baby, I might have been able to do even more. I could be leading a hedge fund by now.”
“And what about me? Did it ever occur to you what I might have achieved had I not raised our daughter? And supported you every day of your career?”
“I’m not going to budge on this.”
“That’s enough,” interrupted Carmen’s attorney. “I agree with Carmen. This is quite simple. Give my client half, or I expect the IRS might take an interest in your expanded portfolio.”
Mark narrowed his eyes and spat at Carmen, “You’ve really turned into an ungrateful bitch.”
There he is, thought Carmen. Finally. The real Mark.
“Mark, after this meeting I hope that we never see each other again. Good luck on your own. You look pretty tired already. Does your new woman not like to sit home and take care of you?” Mark’s eyes flashed, and Carmen knew she had hit a sore point. “And while we are on the subject, please don’t give yourself credit for being such a stand-up guy. If you just would have told me the truth all those years ago, my life might have been different. It doesn’t matter now. I wouldn’t trade what I have with Avery for anything. And who knows, I might be the one who ends up with a hedge fund in the end. But don’t for a second think you’re the good guy here.”
Mark looked like he was going to respond, but he stopped when he saw his attorney shake his head.
His attorney said, “There is no more to discuss here. We agree to half. We will circulate revised papers later in the week and will get this wrapped up before the year is over.”
Mark’s attorney threw his papers in his briefcase and snapped it up as he stood. The men exited as quickly as they had entered.
Carmen’s attorney turned to her and said, “Congratulations. You did well. What’s next for you?”
“A Christmas party. And a really good kiss on New Year’s Eve.”
“When you are ready to do the prenup, call me. You’re a wealthy woman now. Don’t fuck it up.”
No chance of that, thought Carmen. She had no interest in getting married again. She was going to finish her education and get a job.
MARTHA
Martha was at her kitchen table organizing all the documents they would be required to disclose for their mortgage loan.
The banker had noted that she didn’t really need to be on the loan since she had no income and wasn’t relevant to the loan calculation. Way to make a mom feel valued, she thought. Perhaps someday, when the time is right, I’ll be able to fill in that blank next to “wife’s income.” It was funny, now that she felt like Robert was on her side, she didn’t feel the urgency to rush back to work. Maybe that had been all she had really wanted. His validation. The choice.
She heard Robert come in the back door and walked over to meet him with a hug.
She stopped when she saw him. “Robert, you look like someone just killed your dog! Are you feeling all right?”
“Not really. It was a frustrating day,” Robert said as he shuffled to the kitchen to find a snack.
“I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?” Martha asked as she trailed him cautiously, considering what might be wrong.
“Not really. There was a family who was planning on adopting a girl from China. She needed a life-saving surgery. Needs, I mean. Anyway, I did a lot of consulting with the doctors in China, and we had a plan in place to treat her once she came over in the summer. I found out today that the adoptive parents decided to back out. They said they were worried about the cost of her care. It’s just really frustrating because I know I can save this girl if I can just get my hands on her.”
“I’m sorry. That’s awful. I’m sure someone else will step in and adopt her.”
“I doubt it. Not in time. It’s a pretty fast process to adopt special needs children, but there isn’t much of an appetite for their adoption. You would be amazed at the number of children waiting to come here for medical care.”
“I’m sorry, that is really sad. I had no idea.” Martha decided she should leave him in peace to enjoy his snack and started to leave the kitchen.
“Do you want to see her picture?” Robert asked as Martha turned to leave. Martha paused, and he took a picture out of his breast pocket. “I took it out of the file, which I really shouldn’t have. I’m not sure why I did it. I think I’m turning into an old sap.”
Robert handed Martha a small picture of a baby girl. Martha took it in. The little girl had wide, intelligent eyes, and her mouth was curling into a laugh as if she knew a wonderful secret and wasn’t telling.
“How old?” she asked.
“About nine months.”
Nine months. The same age Lucy would have been. Martha felt her heart skip a beat.
“Robert, let’s take her,” she gushed, the words spilling out of her before she could stop them.
Robert threw up his hands and said, “Honey, please slow down. I know this is sad, but you have no idea how difficult the process is. And don’t forget that she might not make it. You aren’t ready to go through that again.”
Martha stood quietly, holding the picture.
“This is our baby, Robert. We are meant to be together, can’t you feel it? Why would you bring this picture home? You’ve never done that before. It means something. It has to. Please, please, just let me look into it,” Martha said urgently.
“What about going back to work? I thought that was the plan,” Robert replied.
“Robert, there was so much I loved about practicing medicine. And maybe I’ll go back to it someday. But I went back after Bobby more because I thought it was what I was supposed to do. You know, to please my parents and because I had done all the work for the degree. But my heart wasn’t completely into it, if I’m being honest. It’s true that I do want to do more in the world, but I don’t have it all figured out yet. And I’m finally starting to be okay with that. It’s enough for me right now that you are willing to make changes so that I can grow. But it doesn’t have to be medicine. It doesn’t have to be paid. Am I making any sense?”
“Yes, you are, and I’m happy that you are figuring out what you need, truly,” said Robert, “but please be careful not to get too carried away on this adoption idea. Be logical. There is a reason for all the process steps. It’s a serious commitment and one with no guarantees.”
But his words were falling on deaf ears. Martha was already picturing how the crib would look in that house on Cumberland. She would give her baby girl the best room on the corner of the east side of the house where the sun rose.
SARA
Sara had made her way through security and was in possession of several useless but entertaining magazines. She was sitting at the gate in the most private corner she could find while waiting for her flight back to Chicago. She figured she had time to check in at home. She hoped Scott had finished all the tasks in the tracker. There was nothing worse than coming home to a messy house after a daylong flight.
She opened Google Drive and navigated quickly to her task tracker spreadsheet and went straight to the good part—the holiday planning section.
Task – Make cookies and distribute to all teachers. Try to do at least six varieties. And find the nice ribbon to wrap them with.
Scott’s Notes: Done. I bought them at Sendik’s. They had a whole section. And they were prewrapped (nicely—don’t worry).
“Nothing like that personal touch, honey,” Sara typed right under his note. She rolled her eyes and went to the next item.
Task – Wrap all the presents. They are all in the alcove under the stairs.
Scott’s Notes: If by “wrap,” you mean shove in gift bags, we’re done! Why does anyone bother to use wrapping paper? What a colossal waste of time.
“Really, Scott,” she typed, “no
w the kids probably already know exactly what they’re going to get. They just had to peek in the gift bag.”
Task – Christmas cards. I put the five pictures of the kids I like best in a folder on the desktop of the family computer. Just plop them into something you like on Shutterfly and get them ordered. I know you prefer the ones that mention Christmas, but I really think it’s more inclusive to just go with “Happy Holidays,” especially because I want to hand them out at work. If you can print labels, too, that would be really helpful. And buy stamps.
Scott’s Notes: The card plus postage is over a thousand dollars! We could buy a new bigger screen TV for the living room for that! I made a quick e-card—that will do.
“Fine,” she typed. “I think everyone just looks at them for ten seconds and throws them away. But will we regret it? Hmmm.”
Task – Buy stocking stuffers. I try to do “something to read, something to wear, something to eat” every year. If you need book ideas, e-mail me. And not too much candy. They already eat too much.
Scott’s Notes: Sara, I’m just doing candy, it’s so much easier and the kids will like it better anyway. It’s Christmas—lighten up.
At this one, Sara teared up somewhat unexpectedly as her hands hovered over the keyboard. It was bad enough to have to hand some of these special traditions to Scott. But now he was undoing them. She had picked a special book for their stockings every year since Tommy was born twelve years ago. She remembered the very first book she had chosen, the classic Moo, Baa, La La La! by Sandra Boynton. She could still recite it by heart. She loved the last bit—“It’s quiet now, what do you say?” It made Tommy giggle every time. She would have to fix this one when she got home. What was wrong with Scott? She didn’t type a comment to that one and instead read on.
Task – Wash wedding china and crystal and polish silver. I want to get out all the good stuff for Christmas Eve dinner with your parents. I know it’s a pain, but it makes things so special. Also, either wash and iron linen tablecloth or take to cleaners.
Scott’s Notes: NFW. Let’s watch football and have a normal meal like the rest of America. Also, I hope you know that there are like fifty other things I have always done around the house that you don’t have on your tracker. Man stuff, I guess. I thought about adding them, but I have better things to do with my time.
Sara typed, “Scott, I love getting the wedding china and silver out every year for Christmas dinner. Don’t you remember how much fun we had picking it all out when we were engaged? At least, I thought we were having fun! Honestly, what else are you doing at home all day while the kids are in school? Get ’er done!”
The airport announcer called out the time, ten p.m. in Delhi, which would make it late Friday morning back home. Sara decided she would give Scott a call.
Someone picked up on the first ring, but it wasn’t Scott.
It was their neighbor Amy.
“Hey, Sara, namaste,” Amy said.
“Amy, the India jokes aren’t funny yet. You have no idea. Hey, what are you doing at our house? I hope Scott has invited you over to show him how to polish silver.”
“Um, no. Although thanks for reminding me. We were thinking about doing an open house over the break, and I really should set aside some time to get the silver ready.”
“Where is Scott, Amy?” she asked suspiciously.
Amy paused and then said carefully, “Sara, it’s no big deal, don’t worry. He had to take one of the boys over to the hospital.”
“What?” demanded Sara with surprise, feeling her chest tighten with worry.
“Nathan is fine. He fell on the playground and broke his arm. It wasn’t a really bad break. He’s fine, I promise. I’m here with Mikey. I’m going to pick up your other kids and take care of things tonight.” Amy paused and then continued in a more serious voice. “Look, Sara, Scott was going to call you, but he decided it would be better not to make you worry while you have to sit on the flight. And what can you do from Delhi anyway?”
Indeed, there’s nothing I can do, thought Sara miserably.
“Thanks for saving us, Amy. I really appreciate it.” Sara tried to control herself and keep the worry out of her voice—as well as the touch of anger at Amy’s dismissal of Nathan’s injury as “fine.” That would not be the word she would have used if it were her kid.
“Anytime. You can always give me a call when you need help. Scott too. Frankly, he should have asked me for help on the cookie thing. He bought the teachers those store-bought ones from Sendik’s! The other mommies are never going to let you guys live that one down,” she pointed out with a laugh.
“Guess we wiffed on that one.” Sara laughed, cringing a little inside but also feeling like she should be defending Scott. What was wrong with store-bought cookies? “Bye, Amy. Thanks again.”
Sara pressed “end” and put her face in her hands. She didn’t want the other passengers to see her cry. She had been there for every hospital trip. She knew what to do and what to say to make her kids feel better. Did Scott even know which one of Nathan’s loveys to bring with them to the hospital? She doubted it. Scott would handle everything just fine, but there are some times when only a mom will do, full stop.
These were the kind of days that made Sara really want her old job back. As it was, the COO expected at least four trips to India just this year alone. She thought it might break her. On the plus side, they had some serious cash coming in the door. She would take the family to Disney, she decided. That would make things right. Or at least easier to swallow, for all of them.
HEATHER
Text from Heather Hall to Elizabeth Smith
OK, I get it. You guys are ignoring me. Are the girls jealous or something? And you, Elizabeth, are you siding with them? Maybe someone else is jealous too. I’m actually kind of too busy to care. Let me know when you guys get over yourselves. H
ELIZABETH
It was finally Saturday night. Elizabeth had made it to the weekend in one piece, but barely.
Earlier in the day, after reading Heather’s latest pathetic attempt to reach out to them, she had turned to the merger documents one last time and fired them back to the other side in New York. She knew that they would be coming right back to her tomorrow morning, sitting in her e-mail bright and early. Those New York guys loved to work all night and then hit you first thing the next day, just because they could. That’s one way to bill three thousand hours a year, she mused to herself. And she knew their client was paying through the nose for it. Did they care? she wondered.
In any case, Saturday evening was going to belong to her. Her and William, that is. They had left George with William’s mom and dad and driven down to Carmen’s place for the evening. Carmen had invited Elizabeth, Martha, and Sara to have a little after-party and spend the night as well.
Martha had already begged off. She had apparently had her offer on the Cumberland house accepted and was in a frenzy of planning for renovations. Well, that was her excuse anyway. Elizabeth was pretty sure that she still just didn’t want to be around them after their fight in September. Or maybe she was still sad about Lucy. Elizabeth thought she’d come around, but if she wanted space, she would get it. So it was down to Carmen, Elizabeth, and Sara. William and Scott were taking one of the cars back together and leaving the other vehicle for the girls.
Elizabeth was looking forward to her chance to blow off a little steam.
As she and William pulled up to Carmen’s gorgeous lake house, Elizabeth was embarrassed to realize that this was her first time visiting. It was true that Carmen hadn’t been living there long, but Elizabeth should have gotten down there earlier. Her excuses were equally plentiful and pitiful. Just another casualty of law firm life, she thought.
Carmen had gone all out on the decorations. Elizabeth could see from outside the house that they had decorated at least three trees inside. And someone must have spent hours outside stringing lights. The party was already going strong. Laughter and music floated through the
air as the lights and ornaments twinkled inside and out. Avery’s friends must have been in charge of the music because it sounded like a downtown Chicago club in there. She wondered if Carmen was going to get a call from her neighbors.
As they walked up the blue stone steps to the front door, Carmen came bursting out to give Elizabeth a hug. Elizabeth was struck by how beautiful Carmen looked. It wasn’t what she was wearing, although the tight red cocktail dress made her look closer to thirty than forty. Carmen had a new, relaxed glow that Elizabeth hadn’t seen since, well, college. Her friend was happy for the first time in a very long time, she realized. As Paul came out to join Carmen, she could guess why.
“Carmen, you must have paid a fortune to have this place decorated,” Elizabeth said as she hugged Carmen back.
“Actually, no, Avery and I did most of the interior, and Paul did the outside work.”
“Wow. I’m impressed. William’s a great holiday decorator, but I don’t think I could get him to put up this many lights.”
“It was my pleasure,” said Paul. “Hey, William, good to meet you, let’s get you a drink.”
As Paul led William away to the bar, Elizabeth took in Paul’s vanishing figure and whispered to Carmen, “Holy cow, girl. He’s a serious hottie.”
“I know.” Carmen giggled like a twenty-year-old. “But Elizabeth, that’s not even close to the best part. He wants to spend time with me. Like a lot of time. He spent two days straight stringing lights. You know how much time Mark put into this house? None. Zero. I finally found a man who wants to make my home nicer. My home. I keep squeezing myself to make sure it’s all real.”
“And how is he in bed?”
“Even better than he is at stringing lights,” replied Carmen with a knowing smile.
“Honey, no one deserves it more than you. Now let’s go get a drink. After the week I’ve had, I’m in desperate need of a strong one.”
All the Right Mistakes Page 15
