The View from Alameda Island - Robyn Carr Page 0,98
there, but I’m not going to stay nights there anymore. Everyone has my cell phone number. If any of my old parishioners need reassurance, I can keep appointments at the church until January first. Then we move on.”
“Do you need my help with that?”
“No, there isn’t much. What I can’t pack I can donate or leave with my parents. I’m going to get us a hotel room in the city for a couple of weeks. We have people to see and a marriage license to get. When we’re not busy doing that, I want to spoil you a little. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long time before we can indulge in good restaurants or things like whirlpool tubs and big showers.”
“Good mattresses, fancy linens, hotel bathrobes...”
“If this ever becomes too much...”
“You’re following me, remember? I never preached in a big rich church or lived in a cushy little mansion like that rectory. How many times have you slept in your car?”
“Not that many,” he admitted, though there were a few times in the central valley when he’d given up his lodging to someone in need.
“It was the most wonderful Christmas morning of my life,” she said.
“Me, too,” he agreed. He tenderly touched her cheek. “Me, too.”
* * *
Cassie and Jeremy were very busy the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day. This was the part of the world where they’d completed their undergrad work and there were still many friends in the area. Not to mention Jeremy’s parents, a married sister with a baby, an aunt and uncle. That gave Lauren plenty of free time, which she needed, but high on her list of priorities was getting her girls together for lunch. Just the girls, no boyfriends or extras.
Since she was fired the Friday before Christmas, she’d had a very interesting call from Sylvie Emerson. Sylvie had taken the liberty of talking about Lauren’s situation to her personal attorney, no names of course. “Call your attorney and tell her you want to contest your termination because they claimed no cause. Don’t take another job without talking to me—I have a couple of excellent ideas. But while you’re unemployed, ask your lawyer to push hard for a settlement. If you agreed to mediation, get it scheduled. Your husband has dragged this out for over six months in a no-fault state when you’re not contesting the laws. Push, Lauren. Then please talk to me.”
Lauren said that of course she would; she would appreciate any suggestions.
When she called Erica Slade, she had to leave a message. And, Lauren being Lauren, it was apologetic. “Erica, I’m so sorry to bother you during a holiday week, but I’ve had a few things come up and hope to discuss with you when you’re next available. I lost my job. They have no cause and it seems pretty suspicious, but I can’t figure out if there’s anyone to blame. And that’s even more reason I have to try to get this divorce settled. I have expenses, of course, that I was hoping to cover with my paycheck. I’m sorry to have to bother you.”
It wasn’t even an hour later when her phone rang. “Lauren, I’m a divorce attorney. You think I’m not used to holiday crises? I’m afraid it comes with the territory. Everyone loses their marbles at Christmastime. Mother’s Day, Father’s Day and the Super Bowl are also bad. I’m going to take a vacation in February. Now, tell me what’s happening.”
Their conversation was brief. Erica agreed to file a complaint contesting her termination and to start petitioning for either a mediation or date in family court ASAP. She requested the results of the audit she had asked for. “If he stalls anymore, I’ll petition the court. His lawyer knows he has to have a case to drag this out and he has no case. You’ve submitted all your statements and earnings records.”
That had occupied her, but that was not the reason she wanted to meet her daughters for lunch. Cassie and Jeremy were going to be returning to Boston on January second. It would probably be a long time before the three of them were together again. Lauren chose the neighborhood pub she enjoyed so often with Beau and she walked down the street with Cassie, though the weather was damp and cold.
“You know, Mom, you don’t have to send Beau home at night to protect me from your relationship. As long as I don’t hear screaming and spanking...”