6. Chapter 6
Harriet
Ipull into the parking lot of Green Lake Park, the tires of the car crunching over tiny pebbles that have found their way several hundred feet from the lake.
The place is beautiful, especially around sunset.
It’s got a small patch of beach, gorgeous multi-story houses surrounding it on all sides, and patches of daisies throughout.
It’s the sort of place where you can sit for a while without being bothered.
My hands stay on the steering wheel after I turn off the engine. My knuckles are white, my shoulders tight. I stare at everything and nothing at the same time.
The park has two other visitors tonight. A man walking a small dog along the far edge of the grass, and a young woman sitting on the beach surrounded by sand, head bent over her phone. Neither looks up as I finally push open the car door and step out into the cool evening air.
I walk to the nearest bench and sit down.
My purse lands beside me with a soft thud, the sound of car keys and phone and lip balm settling.
Once settled, I twist the wedding ring on my finger.
It’s a simple rose gold band with a dot for a diamond.
Buck had wanted something bigger, something that would “make the other guys jealous.” I was the one to talk him down from it, wanting something practical I could easily wash dishes or cook meals with.
The ring comes off easily. I turn it over once, watching the thin band catch the light from the distant streetlamp. All the years I spent with Buck reduced to a tan-line where my ring once sat. Minus our children, of course.
I set it down on the bench beside my purse, not looking at it as I turn away.
Let someone else find and keep it. Hopefully, they’ll have better luck with it than I did.
My hands go flat on my thighs, palms down, fingers spread.
Breathing evenly, I lift my chin. Never again will I willingly reduce myself to micro-humiliations all for the sake of avoiding arguments and keeping peace.
Twenty-five years of marriage, reduced to an essential truth: I haven’t loved Buck in a long time. And for him, it seems as if he never really loved me at all. Actually, looking back, it feels like he enjoyed taking ownership of me.
I take out my phone, the screen lighting in the darkness.
My thumb hovers over the keyboard for a moment before I type “divorce attorney near me”.
The search returns all local firms. I tap the first one on the list, a family law office with a website that shows a woman in a suit smiling professionally at the camera.
Even though it’s late, I decide to call and leave a message requesting a call back. I don’t want to wait until morning. I want to feel like I’m doing something now, even if nothing can be done at this time of night. Surprisingly, the phone rings three times before someone picks up.
“Well and Heart Family Law, this is Denise. How may I help you?”
“Oh wow. Uh, hello, my name is Harriet Dallas,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to still be in the office.”
Denise chuckles. “I apologize if I startled you. Normally you’d be correct, but a few times a month we stay late to accommodate those who work second shift. You caught us on the right day.”
“Oh, that’s nice. Well, the reason for my call is I’d like to start divorce proceedings.”
There’s a brief pause. “Of course, Ms. Dallas. I can help you with that. How long have you been married?”
“Twenty-five years.”
“I see. We have appointments available on Monday if you’d like to come in and discuss your situation.”
“I’m out of town for the weekend, so Monday works.” I say.
“Great. I’ll put you down for ten o’clock with Ronetta Well, our senior partner.” The sound of typing comes through the line. “I’ll need to get some basic information from you to start your file.”
I give her my full name, Buck’s full name, our address, the date we were married, how we have adult children, but no minors. She types as I talk, the soft click of keys providing a steady background to my increasingly steady voice.
“Okay, I’ve got all that,” she says when I finish. “I’ll email you our intake forms. You can fill them out before your appointment to save time. Do you have any questions for me?”
I shake my head, then remember she can’t see me. “No, that’s all. Thank you.”
“There’s just one more thing,” she says, her voice dropping slightly. “Ms. Dallas, are you in a safe situation right now?”
The question catches me off guard. Safe. As opposed to what? As opposed to the man who drugged me to shut me up?
“Yes,” I say, the word coming out stronger than I expect. “I’m safe.”
“Good,” she says, and I can hear the genuine relief in her voice. “We’ll see you Monday at ten, then. The office is at 713 Maple Street on the second floor. Parking’s behind the building.”
“Thank you,” I say again, and then we’re saying goodbye.
I sit with the phone in my lap, watching the screen fade to black. The park is completely empty now, the dog walker and the young woman long gone. It is just me, the quiet darkness, and the staggering weight of what I’ve just set in motion.
Needing support from someone I know is actually on my side, I open my texts and scroll until I find Kwemby’s name. Our conversation from this morning is still there. Texting feels like too little; I’d rather hear his voice. I tap his contact and press call. It rings.
“Harriet?” His voice is easy and familiar, the same as it’s always been—warm, a little surprised, like he’s happy to hear from me but can’t quite believe I called. “Hey. How’s the family trip going?”
I give a short, dry laugh that doesn’t sound like me at all. “It’s been a day.”
“You okay?”
“I think I’m actually better than I’ve been in a long time,” I say, and it’s the truth. Not the whole truth, maybe, but a piece of it. “Are you nearby? Or still at the new diner with the leaky roof?”
“I’m at my place,” he says. “About twenty minutes from where you are, if you’re still at Gary’s and Christine’s. Roof’s fixed, by the way. Floor’s still drying, but we’re open for business.”
Wow, that was fast. Kwemby’s always so efficient.
“I passed a diner on the way into town,” I say. “The one with the neon sign? By the old gas station?”
“Ah yes, Merle’s,” he says. “I purchased the place a few years ago. Has good burgers and even better pie. You want to meet there?”
Perfect. As he owns several through the state, I was hoping it was one of his. “Yes. If that’s okay.”
“Yeah, of course. See you in thirty minutes?”
“Thirty minutes,” I agree.
“See you then.”