“Exactly,” he said. “It could work as a good transition...”
“Hmm, yes.” And then she thought, transition, closure, focusing on what you have, not what you lost, the next challenge... His common sense about divorce was very helpful. “Really, Logan, I can’t thank you enough.”
“Any time, Justine. Once you’re in your next life, we’ll get together for a drink or something. I know you’re going to have big things to report. But meanwhile, you have my number. And I have yours.”
* * *
Every morning Adele rose early, took her walk, then headed to Banyon Community College with great enthusiasm. She listened raptly to every client coming in the door, and if they didn’t volunteer much, she would take a glance at their intake sheet to see if she could piece together their needs or purpose, even though that wasn’t really her job.
She began to see repeat clients and welcomed them by name. “Hi, Alexandra. How’s your mom?” Alexandra was a recovering agoraphobic whose mother had MS and was recently admitted to a nursing home.
“Hey there, Leslie. Any news on your college admission?” Leslie, formerly military and recently homeless, had just applied to community college. She also now had a modest place to live in a community devoted to homeless veterans.
“Rosalee, you look fantastic!” She was dressed in business attire she’d gotten from a charity that specialized in office appropriate hand-me-downs for women in need of such clothing.
“Today is my interview dress rehearsal,” Rosalee said, smiling.
After ten days on the job, Addie felt as if her life had become an adventure. She was getting to know the clients, employees and volunteers, looking forward to each day’s lunch hour as the time she spent getting to know her new friends. Fran was divorced and the mother of teenagers. Her ex-husband moved home to his native New Jersey and rarely saw his son and daughter. Addie didn’t know why she was surprised, but she was pleased that Fran had a boyfriend. He was a cop, also divorced, and she talked about him with great pride, especially when mentioning how good he was with his kids as well as hers. Ross had an ex-husband and a couple of grown kids; she had raised them primarily on her own, finishing her college degree after they were born. But Felicity took the cake. She was thirty-five, slight of build and kind of fragile looking but brighter than sunshine. She was a social worker and had been with the center for five years. Adele learned that Felicity, so bubbly and happy and positive, had lost her young husband and five-year-old son in a small plane crash six years ago. Ross had whispered this to Adele. It caused Adele to look at Felicity with caution, wondering how one survived something like that, wondering what was buried beneath the surface.
Adele started her job ten days ago, making do with clothes she already had but they were hanging off her frame, so she went to the mall for some new, smaller outfits. Walking and the routine of working had even more of a slimming effect, and while she noticed it in the feel of her clothes, there were just so many things on her mind, she didn’t know which change to give all the credit to. Everything in her life was different. She was working, she had friends, she’d lost weight, she was exercising and feeling healthier and her life, all of it, felt brand-new.
She was thinking about how good it felt to take control of her life when Justine walked into her office unannounced.
“Hi,” she said, walking right up to the desk.
“Justine! What are you doing here?” Adele asked, standing.
“I wanted to see this for myself,” she said, smiling. “You, working in an office.” Then she looked Adele up and down. “My God! Look at you!” She kept her volume down but her enthusiasm was evident. “Oh my God, you said you lost a few pounds! I think you lost fifty! You look fabulous!”
“Thanks,” she said. But then she took a closer look at Justine. Her sister was wasting away. “You’ve lost a little weight...”
“Not too much,” she said, shaking her head. “You know. The famous divorce