Chapter 6—Christa #3
CELESTE CALLS AT FOUR-thirty. I consider letting it go to voicemail because Tate has probably activated the family network already. Then I remember Saturday and answer while walking toward the small kitchenette for another coffee. “Hi.”
“Before you hang up, I’m not calling on behalf of the Meade Diplomatic Corps.”
I stop beside the coffeemaker. “There’s a diplomatic corps?”
“Mom. She’s the entire corps. Dad is more of an invading army.”
I laugh as I put a mug beneath the machine. “What did Tate tell you?”
“Nothing. Mom called me in a panic because Tate called her in a panic, which means I’ve received approximately eleven percent of the actual information and ninety percent of the emotional debris.”
“That’s probably more accurate than your math.” She lets out a startled laugh as I start the coffee and lean against the counter.
Celeste hesitates before asking, “Did you file for divorce?”
“Yes.”
There’s a brief pause before she says, “Okay.”
I wait for the lecture that doesn’t come. The machine clicks and starts pouring coffee instead. “That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. Everyone else seems to have an opinion.”
“I have several.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “Most are about my brother’s personality and would be repetitive after Saturday.”
Another laugh escapes me, and I carry the mug back toward my office.
Celeste lets me enjoy it before her tone turns more serious. “Are you okay?”
I close my office door with my hip. “I think so.”
“That’s not a very confident answer.”
“I filed for divorce this morning.” I sit and wrap both palms around the warm mug. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.”
“Whatever you feel.”
“Profound.”
“I have four daughters. I’ve given up pretending I know what anybody is supposed to feel.” Her tone gets dry. “Except when Shelly, Danica, and I are all PMSing and cranky. Cycle syncing is a thing.”
“You’ve got a few years until Jody and Carmen catch up,” I tease, feeling surprisingly normal with her as I smile and swivel toward the window.
“I wanted to give you a heads up. Tate called Mom because he wants her to talk to you,” Celeste adds.
My smile disappears. “About withdrawing the petition?”
“Yep.”
I set the coffee down. “He asked me for thirty days.”
Celeste gets quiet.
“You too?” I ask.
“What?” She seems confused.
“Jai thought that was oddly specific.”
“It is.”
I sit straighter. “Why?”
“I don’t know, but Tate doesn’t do arbitrary numbers.” Celeste pauses, and I hear a door close on her end. “Maybe I’m reading too much into it. He likes deadlines, plans, and milestones. Dad raised us on quarterly objectives like we were tiny employees.”
I shake my head. “That sounds healthy.”
“You married into this voluntarily. I was born here.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
She laughs, then sobers. “He might just think a month sounds reasonable. I wouldn’t build a conspiracy around it.”
“I’m not.” I pick up the mug again, though the thirty-day request bothers me more now that two other people have noticed it.
A child yells something in the background. Celeste calls back that she’ll be there in a minute before returning to me. “Sorry. Apparently, civilization has collapsed because Jody used Danica’s charger.”
“That sounds serious.”
She laughs. “Send help. Or merlot.”
I smile into my coffee. “I thought you had credentials.”
“Only for Tate. Teens and tweens require advanced certification.”
That gets another laugh out of me.
Before she hangs up, Celeste’s voice softens. “Christa, don’t let Mom make you feel guilty.”
The humor slips away. I set the mug down. “I won’t.”
“She loves Tate. That doesn’t make his failure at marriage your responsibility.”
My chest constricts unexpectedly. “Thank you.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
Another shout comes from somewhere in her house, and Celeste sighs. “Good. Now I have to adjudicate a charger dispute.”
“Good luck.”
“I’ll need it. Stay in touch. You’re my friend, not just my sister-in-law.”
A lump fills my throat as she hangs up, and I remain turned toward the window for a moment. Only now does the divorce hurt, because somewhere along the way, I acquired people in Tate’s family I don’t want to lose with him.
I give myself a minute before turning back to work.
AT SEVEN, I RETURN to the hotel with takeout and three missed calls from Judith. I don’t return them. Tate hasn’t called again, though he’s sent one message.
Tate: Please don’t make any more decisions until we talk.
I read it while standing beside the hotel-room desk, then set my phone beside the folder Jai told me to keep. Tate is still talking as though my decision hasn’t been made because accepting that I made it without his permission appears to be beyond him.
Tomorrow at one, I’m going to Simon’s house to work on an antique escritoire. For three hours, nobody will ask me for an heir, tell me what dress to wear, or suggest my career is optional. Simon will probably have reorganized the screws again despite explicit instructions.
I smile as I open my dinner. Tomorrow already sounds better than today, which wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected.