Chương 12
“What if they’re in default?”
“Then we follow normal commercial procedure.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“Everything has a procedure.”
“That’s civilization.”
“It’s exhausting.”
“Also civilization.”
She pulled the Palmer lease forward.
“Now this.”
I recognized Dad’s initials on the bottom of the first page.
Seeing them made my throat tighten.
He had been dead seven years.
Yet here he was, still shaping my marriage through decisions he had made when he believed he was helping us.
Natalie tapped the renewal clause.
“The company can exercise the option if the conditions are met.”
“And the late payment?”
“May matter.”
“May.”
“Yes.”
I gave her a look.
She ignored it.
“More importantly, the rent under the renewal provision increases only three percent.”
I stared at her.
“So?”
“So current comparable rents in that corridor are significantly higher.”
“How much higher?”
“I don’t have a verified appraisal yet.”
She pulled out another sheet.
“But the property manager estimates the current lease is roughly thirty percent below what similar space has recently commanded.”
I leaned back.
“My father did that on purpose.”
“I assumed.”
“He wanted Mark’s company to survive.”
“And it did.”
“For a while.”
Natalie studied me.
“That sounded loaded.”
I looked at the lease.
“I don’t know how the business is doing.”
“Then don’t assume.”
“I’m not.”
I thought about the late rent.
“Not entirely.”
She nodded.
“At some point, Mark’s company finances will matter to the divorce because income matters.”
“Can we force him to show everything?”
“Through disclosure, yes.”
“How long?”
“Longer than you want.”
I exhaled.
Natalie turned to the third stack.
“This is where things get less comfortable.”
I looked at her.
“What now?”
“Mark’s attorney emailed at seven fifty-eight.”
“That early?”
“Lawyers are a troubled species.”
“What did he want?”
“He proposed an immediate parenting arrangement.”
My stomach tightened.
“What arrangement?”
“Alternating nights with the girls until a temporary agreement is formalized.”
“No.”
The answer came before she finished.
Natalie did not react.
“No.”
“They are not going back and forth every night.”
“Then we propose something else.”
“He scared Emma last night.”
“Tell me exactly what you mean by that.”
“He tracked us to the hotel.”
“Through location sharing.”
“Yes.”
“He came to the lobby.”
“Yes.”
“He refused to leave initially.”
“Yes.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“No.”
“Threaten the girls?”
“No.”
“Try to force his way upstairs?”
“No.”
I hated how small each answer sounded separately.
Natalie folded her hands.
“That matters.”
“So does Emma being afraid.”
“Yes.”
“But we need to distinguish fear from evidence of danger.”
I looked away.
The statement felt cold.
It was also fair.
“She doesn’t want to see Diane.”
“That is separate.”
“Not to Emma.”
“No.”
Natalie’s expression softened.
“But legally and practically, we separate them.”
I stared at the coffee between my hands.
“What do you recommend?”
“A short, predictable parenting plan.”
My stomach twisted.
“You want me to send them to him?”
“I want you to think about Mark as their father separately from Mark as your husband.”
I almost laughed.
“That sounds impossible.”
“It is difficult.”
“He agreed with his mother.”
“Yes.”
“He blamed Emma.”
“Yes.”
“He tracked us down.”
“Yes.”
“And you still think I should send them?”
“I think children usually benefit from safe contact with both parents.”
She paused.
“I also think forcing Emma into an overnight stay immediately after this weekend may be unnecessarily destabilizing.”
I looked up.
“So what?”
“Offer him two hours this afternoon in a neutral public place.”
“With me there?”
“No.”
My chest tightened.
“Then who?”
“Claire, perhaps.”
I stared at her.
“Claire froze when Diane smashed the cake.”
“Yes.”
“She called me afterward.”
“Yes.”
“She also warned you about the file box.”
I disliked how balanced Natalie insisted on being.
It left me nowhere comfortable to stand.
“Ask Emma first?”
“Do not make her decide custody.”
“I didn’t say custody.”
“You know what I mean.”
I hated hearing Mark’s phrase from Natalie.
She saw it immediately.
“Bad wording.”
“Very.”
She leaned back.
“Tell Emma her father wants to see her.”
“Tell her the plan you are considering.”
“Listen to her concerns.”
“Do not tell her the decision is hers.”
“And if she says no?”
“Then we decide why.”
I looked out the conference room window.
Below us, a delivery driver was balancing four drink trays against his chest while trying to open a glass door with his elbow.
Everything in life apparently required more hands than people had.
My phone buzzed.
It was Claire.
I nearly ignored it.
Then I saw the message.
Please call me before you agree to anything with Mark.
I showed Natalie.
She frowned.
“That is interesting.”
I called.
Claire answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
“At my attorney’s office.”
“Oh.”
Her breath caught.
“Okay.”
“What happened?”
“Mark was at Mom’s this morning.”
“That’s not surprising.”
“No.”
Claire’s voice dropped.
“He left the girls’ rooms packed.”
I went still.
“What do you mean?”
“He bought beds.”
“What?”
“At Mom and Dad’s house.”
My stomach turned.
“Why?”
“He says he’s staying there.”
“That still doesn’t explain beds.”
“He ordered them last night.”
I looked at Natalie.
Her expression sharpened.
Claire continued.
“And Mom cleared out the sewing room and Dad’s office.”
“Claire.”
“I know.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because Mom keeps saying the girls are coming home to family today.”
The room seemed to become very quiet.
“What does Mark say?”
“He says his lawyer told him he has rights.”
“That is not the same thing as taking them.”
“I know.”
“Does he?”
Claire hesitated.
“He isn’t saying much.”
I gripped the phone.
Then she added, almost in a whisper, “But Mom already bought Emma a new birthday cake.”
For a second, all I could picture was pink frosting on hardwood.
Not because the new cake mattered.
Because Diane had already converted what she had done into a problem that could be fixed with another purchase.
“What kind of cake?”
Claire made a tired sound.
“Rachel.”
“I’m serious.”
May you like
“Chocolate.”
Emma’s favorite was vanilla.
