Part 22 (1/2)

”So did you do this just to spite me for saying you wouldn't?” he asked.

”What? No!” I scoffed. He stared at me. ”Okay, yes. That had a little bit to do with it.”

”I'm sorry I said that,” he told me. ”And all of the other mean, horrible -”

”Incredibly hurtful, yet accurate?” I added.

”Yeah, those things I said. I didn't mean them,” he promised. ”Well, I meant it when I said I love you. But the rest was just my being an a.s.s. Could we go back to the way things were before? I don't care if we don't put a label on it. We were happy and that's all that -”

”Let's just take things slow, okay?” I asked. ”We'll start with you reading that.”

”Well, I'm looking forward to it,” he said. ”So does Laurie find love with a brooding, far more handsome man in the end?” He blanched. ”Wait, did you make the house eat him, too?”

”You're just going to have to read and find out for yourself.”

27 * BIah, BIah, Blahdy Blah.

I'd like to say that my newsletter ruined Mike's life, that his clients were so disgusted with his extracurricular activities that they abandoned him. But if anything, the newsletter and the ensuing drama gave the firm more cachet, like having your taxes done by the cast of Melrose Place.

The employees in the lobby of Terwilliger and a.s.sociates froze when I walked in. A couple of clients were sitting on the couch, their jaws unhinged and a gleeful antic.i.p.ation s.h.i.+ning in their eyes. Libby Hackett, Beebee's younger, blonder replacement, widened her eyes to an even more doe-like state when I approached the desk. Dexter and Dave, the junior a.s.sociates, snapped out of their stupor first, dropping their coffee mugs on the floor with a clatter and scrambling for the video function on their cell phones. I smiled sweetly, which seemed to frighten the receptionist even more.

”I need to see Mr. Terwilliger, please,” I said.

”I'm supposed to call the cops if you show up,” Libby whispered.

”Would you mind giving me a five-minute head start?” I whispered back.

She let loose a nervous laugh. ”Okay.”

”You know I'm kidding, right?” I told her.

She shook her head. ”No, I don't.”

”Libby, honey, if you feel you need to call the cops, you go right ahead. I won't hold it against you.”

”Really?” She sighed in relief. ”Thanks.”

”No problem. I'll just pop into Mr. Terwilliger's office before the sirens get close, okay?”

Libby nodded. Behind me, I heard Dexter and Dave follow me into the hallway. Over my shoulder, I saw them holding up their phones.

”Mike,” I said, knocking on the frame of his door, something I'd never bothered with before.

Beebee was in his office, demanding his opinion on fabric swatches. The b.i.t.c.hy part of me wanted to tell her that they were all hideous, but the whole point of this visit was emotional growth and that wasn't a good start. (But seriously, they were all b.u.t.t ugly. We're talking a lot of pink. Mike was going to be living inside of a Pepto-Bismol bottle.) Somehow, that made it easier when Beebee sprang up off the couch and yelled for Libby. Mike looked up and, for a moment, it looked like he forgot we weren't married. His first instinct was to smile. Then I'm sure he remembered, just as soon as he saw the thunderous look on Beebee's face. I could tell by the flinching.

”Don't make me call my lawyer,” he said, sounding tired.

”Oh, I'm not going to do anything; sit down,” I commanded. Mike looked unsure. ”Sit down.”

I turned to Beebee, who was sending a poisonous glare Mike's way. ”I just want to tell you that I hope you're everything he deserves and more.”

”What do you mean by that?” Beebee demanded.

”If you think about it for a while, you'll figure it out,” I told her, winking. ”Would you mind if I spoke to Mike alone, please?”

”Like h.e.l.l!” she cried.

”Beebee, please.” Mike said.

”No, Mike.” She glowered at him. ”We've talked about this.”

”Beebee,” he pleaded.

”Fine,” she huffed. ”But I'm waiting right outside. This door stays open and I'll be listening to every word!”

”She's a ... lovely girl,” I told him, sitting across from him. ”You caught me off guard the other day. There are things I need to say to you, without lawyers... or witnesses present.”

Mike looked so hopeful for a moment, but his face fell when I said, ”You're a jerk, Mike Terwilliger. What you did to me was just shameful, wrong, despicable. But what I did was sneaky and spiteful and immature. I was a good wife to you. I may not have met all of your needs, but I never set out to do anything to intentionally hurt you. You can't say the same thing. But I forgive you for what you did, because I don't want to carry this around with me for the rest of my life, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up everything else that I touch. I don't want you to have that kind of power over me. And I hope that one day you'll forgive me for what I did.”

I took a manila envelope out of my shoulder bag and slid it across his desk. ”I had my lawyer draw these up. It's a settlement. It lists all of the a.s.sets I brought to the marriage, plus a request for the equivalent cash value of my car, the equity I have in the house, my part of our savings - enough to get me started. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want anything from you that I didn't earn. I've already signed them. I'd appreciate it if you signed them and we could get this over and done with.”

I'm pretty sure all Mike heard was ”Blah, blah, blahdy blah, I'm going to make this easier for you.” But I didn't say all that for him. I said it for me. If one of us was going to learn from this, I'm glad it was me.

I stood and offered Mike my hand. ”Good-bye, Mike.

He pursed his lips and grasped my fingers. I had been holding that hand since I was nineteen years old. I knew every ridge, every scar. It was warm and solid in my hand. And it might as well have belonged to a stranger. I shook it. He smiled sadly.

”Good-bye.”

”Lacey,” he said as I walled out the door. ”I'm dropping the lawsuit, and so will Beebee.

Beebee gasped. ”But -”

”So will Beebee,” Mike said again, giving her a stern look. ”A clean split, okay? I'll tell Bill we want to do this as quickly as possible. No more fooling around.”

I smiled and nodded. ”Thanks.”

I was pretty sure that was the closest thing I was going to get to an apology.

I walked out of the office with a clear conscience.

Somewhere in my heart a little door closed with a clean, quiet ”snick.” I was through with Mike Terwilliger. And he had moved on to a woman who, while she obviously didn't make him entirely happy, was still better suited to him than I was. Whether he stayed with her or left her within a year, I knew it wouldn't affect me either way. Instead of waiting for them to collapse on themselves, I would be living my life. I may not have wished them well, but at least I wasn't devoting precious energy to wis.h.i.+ng they would spontaneously combust.

Surely that had to be a sign of emotional development.

As I hauled in the bags of groceries I'd bought in town I found another package from Maya on my doorstep. It contained very subdued, expensive-looking letterhead for Season's Gratings. It listed both Maya and me as owner/operators. ”Okay, final offer time,” Maya's note read. ”Full partners.h.i.+p.”