house.”
“Life in general is a comedy. Here’s where I was headed. This will be hard for you for a while, especially with you worrying about your kids and how they’re adjusting. But they will be okay. Know how I know this? Because fifty percent of married couples divorce, the kids are always upset and the kids always survive. It might not be their first choice, but they adjust and ultimately get on with their lives. A lot of that depends on how you and your husband deal with the parenting.
“As for you,” he went on. “At some point you’ll start to look at what you have as opposed to what you’ve lost. I don’t know what that’s going to be—maybe freedom. Maybe an opportunity you didn’t have before. Maybe a man who really appreciates you. Just don’t rush that one, okay? Maybe, since you were always the breadwinner, it’s financial independence. But your list will grow. You’re a beautiful, smart, successful woman. Your husband is hooking up with a woman with a bad track record—not good at relationships, not good with money. Big mistake, Scott. She has none of the things you have to offer. She must be making him feel like a king.”
She just stared at him. “And you said you’re not a counselor.”
“I’m forty-eight and single. My partner, Georgie—she’s married to a firefighter and they have three kids and they’re still crazy in love. I envy the hell out of them. If they ever break up, I might kill myself from disappointment. I’m obviously no genius when it comes to relationships. If I have any experience at all, it’s from watching other people mess up. Now tell me something, Justine. How are you eating? Sleeping?”
She gave a helpless shrug. “Not great. Right now all I want is to wake up in the morning and have my cheating husband not be the first thing I think about.”
“We’re going to eat. Did anything on that menu look good to you?” he asked.
She just shook her head. In the end he ordered for both of them: egg drop soup, lo mein, beef and broccoli, chicken and vegetables. “We’ll share,” he said.
While they were waiting for their dinner he asked, “Who’s getting you through this?”
“A girlfriend who is also processing the divorce. She wrote it up and filed for me. And you.”
“That’s not enough! You might want to call on a few more friends, Justine. They say this also takes a village.”
* * *
Adele was up at six, excited for her day. She walked for an hour, the sun barely lighting the day through the fog. It was gloomy on the beach but not in her heart—she felt lucky and happy. She discovered other people on the beach, walking dogs or jogging or strolling, all, she assumed, getting in their exercise before work.
She felt as though she’d finally entered the grown-up world.
She made her lunch, showered and got ready for work. Given the way she’d spent the last several years, she didn’t have much by way of office clothing. On the weekend she’d do a little shopping for her new life.
She was so eager, she was the first to arrive and the door was locked. She had to wait for Fran whose words of greeting were, “Good morning! I’ll get you your own key today.”
“Thanks. I was a little excited, I guess.”
She fired up the computer, then put her lunch away in their refrigerator. She checked the cupboards to take stock of the supplies—office supplies, trash bags, glass cleaner and so on. With a large plastic bag in hand, she went around to the offices and conference rooms and collected trash. The kitchen looked pretty clean, but she hit it with some cleaner anyway to give it sparkle. Then she sat at her desk and read through the day’s schedule. There were appointments and workshops and a group counseling session. She checked her forms and clipboards, and it wasn’t long before someone came through the door.
“Good morning!” she said cheerfully. “How can I help you?”
And so the stories began. Women coping with death, divorce, abandonment, escape—so many fearful dead ends for women who had been out of the