burden lifted. She was finally starting over. Beth wanted her to sit down for coffee and breakfast but Lauren had already eaten and just couldn’t be still—she had so much to do. She declined with a smile.
“Boy, you must be feeling kind of confident,” Beth said. “Didn’t he unleash any of his dominance on you?”
“I didn’t listen,” she said. “He’s going to make me suffer as much as he can. So what else is new? I defied him. He’s pissed. How surprised am I?” And she actually laughed. “Stop by when you have time. You know the way.”
Her phone was buzzing before she got home. The bedroom furniture would arrive within the hour. Another buzz announced the two large area rugs for the living room and master bedroom were ready to be delivered. The dining room and bar stools were en route. And she was suddenly very busy. She was sorting through new purchases from pillows to kitchen towels. The bedroom furniture arrived ahead of the area rugs—she’d figure that out later. Maybe Chip would help her move furniture.
An electrician came by to check some of the outlets that weren’t working properly. The landlord stopped in to see how she liked some of the painting they’d done. It was nonstop.
There were three angry texts from Brad. They served me at the office! said one. Who’s going to pick up my paperwork from the transcription service? And, her favorite, Let’s have dinner and talk this over! She responded calmly to each. I told you, I don’t know and No, in that order.
Then midafternoon when she was up to her eyeballs in boxes, recently delivered furniture and other items, and starting to wilt from the work of getting settled, Beau walked in the door that had been left standing open. He was carrying a toolbox.
“Hey,” he said, looking around. “Looks like you have a lot to do.”
She was never so happy to see anyone in her life. He’d come to install the safety locks and cameras. She wanted to hug him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Beau helped Lauren rearrange her bedroom furniture to accommodate the area rug. He reinforced her locks, made sure the windows had locks and installed the doorbell camera, which had an app on her phone to show who was at the door. He even helped her put her linens on her bed and all the while, they talked. It was exactly what she needed. While Beth and Chip were as supportive as they could be, they were always treading so carefully, clearly fearful that she’d cave in and go back as she had before. There was something about Beau’s empathy that was better—he didn’t tread carefully. You will be judged and you will feel guilty. Boom.
She spent the rest of the week and through the weekend getting settled. It wasn’t too complicated—she didn’t have that much. She spent some money on odds and ends like baskets, candles, pictures, stacking tables—the personal touches that would make the house hers. And Beau dropped by several times. By the end of the week he said, “I’d call or text but I don’t have your phone number.” She decided it was probably safe to give it to him since she never hesitated to open her door to him.
She learned that he supported the family and paid all the monthly bills; Pamela paid her charge accounts and only occasionally picked up family expenses or paid for clothes or athletic supplies for her sons, but since they filed a joint tax return, he was well aware of how nice her paycheck was and that she had her own savings account.
“That doesn’t seem fair,” Lauren said.
“I caught on within a few years,” he said. “That’s how she was able to take breaks from the marriage, rent nice space and travel. So I started an equity account in the business for savings and started college funds for the boys. I’m not trying to hide anything, but I’d like to level the playing field because she’s going to want half the house and half my business.”
“Your business?” Lauren asked, aghast.
“Divorce is a rough game, Lauren. And I made quite a few mistakes along the way. For one thing, I should’ve filed the last time she left. I should’ve done it right away, before she was tired of her vacation. If my guess is right, she wouldn’t have flinched. She was occupied and wanted to be free of me.”
“And I should have divorced Brad when the girls were small.”
“But you didn’t,” he