“I know,” she says. “Thanks.”
“Do you want the name of my attorney? She’s a shark,” I say. “She’ll get you whatever you want.”
“I’m hoping that we can avoid that whole scene. I want to use our family attorney as a mediator, as long as Scott is reasonable. I’m going to tell him that I want to sell the house and split everything. And, of course, I want custody of the kids That could be the biggest sticking point.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?” I say, feeling a wave of intense grief as I think of those three kids being shuttled back and forth between two houses. Of Maura saying good-bye to her children on Christmas morning when they leave to open presents at their daddy’s. I wonder if there is even a small possibility that Scott could still change. If Maura could, somehow, give him one more chance. Or perhaps I’m just thinking of my own haste in getting a divorce and how much self-righteous anger played a part in my quick decision. Was I too concerned with being right and punishing Ben for reneging on our deal? Is Maura doing the same thing now? I clear my throat and gently say, “Do you think this is a little quick? Have you really thought this through?”
“It’s been a long time coming, Claudia,” Maura says. “Enough is enough.”
“What are you going to tell the kids?” I say.
“I don’t know yet,” she says. “The boys are too young. I guess that’s a good thing.”
“Yeah,” I say, thinking that they will likely have few, if any, memories of their parents together.
“So. Daphne’s going to take the boys on Friday night, and I was hoping you could take Zoe for the weekend?”
“Absolutely,” I say.
“Thank you,” she says.
We are both quiet for a moment. Then she clears her throat and says briskly, “So this is it. T-minus-five days as Mr. and Mrs. Stepford.”
There is something about Maura’s situation that makes me feel even more desperate to talk to Ben. So as soon as I hang up with my sister, I bang out the rest of the e-mail. I write:
Ben-Hope you’re well. I’m sorry for how our last conversation ended; I hate fighting with you. I was wondering if we could get together sometime soon? I have something I want to talk to you about. Let me know Claudia .
I take a deep breath and hit send before I can change my mind. Then I put my head in my hands and pray Ben puts me out of my misery soon. Ten minutes pass and nothing comes. I go to the bathroom and get a cup of coffee, remembering what I always used to tell Jess. “A watched phone doesn’t ring.” I return to an empty in-box. A moment later, my e-mail notifier dings. But the message is not from Ben. Nor is the next or the next. I turn my volume down on my computer and position my chair away from my screen. I allow myself only one check per half hour. Still nothing.
As the day wears on, I go from being nervous to downright ornery. I feel irrationally annoyed at every friend who chooses today, of all days, to say hello or pass along a joke. And when Jess forwards me a playful exchange between Michael and her with the subject line Isn’t he cute ?, I feel my first stab of envy over their relationship. I’m not at all bitter, but definitely a bit begrudging. It’s not fair , I think, and then instantly dislike myself for having one of the single most maladjusted and counterproductive thoughts a woman in a crisis can have. Life’s not fair , I tell myself. Everyone over the age of ten knows that. Then, I feel my heart twist as I have an even sadder, more sobering thought: You have no one to blame but yourself .
* * *
twenty-seven
Four excruciating days pass with no word from Ben. I picture an array of depressing scenarios: Ben so gloriously indifferent that he lets my e-mail get buried in his in-box, forgetting to write me back altogether; Ben scoffing at the screen and deleting my e-mail in disgust; Ben forwarding my e-mail to Tucker and the two of them sharing a good chuckle about how desperate I sound. I consider calling Annie and asking her if she’s talked to him, if she knows anything about his life. After all, she was certainly pretty free with the details of my relationship with Richard. But I just don’t want to go down that road. I don’t want anything to get lost in translation. Plus, I don’t entirely trust that Annie has my best interest at heart. I know I’m her friend, but she’s Ben’s friend, tooand by now she could even be close to Tucker.
Jess agrees. “Just deal with him directly,” she says.
“What if I never hear back from him?” I say.
“You will He’s probably out of the office, working on an off-site project or something. Either that or he wants to make you sweat. And if he’s making you sweat, he still cares.”