52 comments/ 99449 views/ 19 favorites Wenatchee Ch. 01-02 By: coaster2 Chapter 1 Out of the Blue We were just finishing up the dinner dishes as we usually did. What didn't go into the dishwasher, we did by hand. Joyce washed and I dried. I snapped the towel out, folded it and put it on its hanger. "Don't go anywhere, Geoff. I've got something for you," my wife said. I was intrigued. This was different, so I sat in my usual kitchen chair waiting for her return. She wasn't gone more than twenty seconds when she returned carrying a manila envelope. She put it on the table and slid it toward me. "What's this?" I asked, picking it up and looking at the front. "Read it and see for yourself," she said. She seemed a bit nervous to me. I looked at the front of the envelope, and along with my name, was the name of a law firm in the top corner. I didn't like the look of this at all. I looked up at Joyce. "What's this about, Joyce?" I asked again. "Look inside, Geoff. That will tell you." I opened the flap and pulled out a sheaf of papers. The heading on the title page told me everything I had hoped it wouldn't. Petition for Divorce. I looked up a Joyce again. "What the hell is going on, Joyce?" "I'm divorcing you, Geoff." She seemed unable to continue, but her expression was firm and it wasn't pleasant. "Why?" It was all I could think of at the moment. I was in turmoil and trying desperately to reason why this was happening. "I'm not happy with my life. I want more from it. Our boys are almost grown and I'll be forty this December. I've spent the last twenty years cooking and cleaning and doing the laundry and all the other things a wife is expected to do. Now ... I want a life of my own." "Is it something I've done wrong?" I asked, hoping I would get some kind of explanation for what she was proposing. "No, Geoff. You've been a good husband and a good provider. Unfortunately, that isn't enough. We married when I was only nineteen. I missed out on part of my youth. I'm not going to miss out any more. I still have forty years left if I'm lucky. I want them to be exciting and fulfilling and meaningful. Being married to you doesn't offer that." "Jesus, Joyce, is this some kind of early menopause thing?" "No! It is not," she snapped angrily. I was thunderstruck. We were only three weeks from our twentieth wedding anniversary and she was telling me that it was over? Our life wasn't meaningful, or fulfilling? What the fuck? I was at a complete loss for words. I was shaking my head, I realized, but I couldn't come up with anything to say. "Just sign where the tabs are, Geoff. Let's get this over with as cleanly as possible. I don't want to fight about it." I looked down at the papers in front of me. Little red plastic tabs with the words Sign Here were randomly poking out the side of the sheaf. I took a deep breath. "Joyce ... is this your final word? No discussion? No chance to change your mind?" She nodded with a grim look. At least she wasn't taking any pleasure in this. "So I'm pretty much useless as a husband ... is that it?" "No, Geoff. It's just that ... it's me ... it's what I want. I've sacrificed twenty years to you and the boys. Now ... I want my turn." "So this is really about you. To hell with me. To hell with our sons. Joyce comes first." "Don't be nasty, Geoff. That's not your style. I've made up my mind. Whether you agree or not, we are getting a divorce, so just sign the papers." "The hell I will!" I snapped. "You think I'm going to let you walk away with one cent more than the law allows then you're in for a big surprise. I'm not signing anything until Pete goes over this with a fine-tooth comb." "Fine. Have Pete send it to Ocsana Dirovich at Wendler-Milton. The address is on the envelope," she said in frustration. Our voice levels had been rising as the conversation progressed. "Where are the boys?" I asked. "I have to talk to them about this." "I gave them some money to go out to dinner. I talked to them after you left for work this morning. They know what's going on." "I suppose you intend to sue for child support?" "Just for Ross. Matt is eighteen. They've decided to stay with me in the house. I've already moved your clothes and things out of the bedroom into the guest room." "Well, we'll see about that. This house is half mine. It's worth a half-million on today's market and there's only about eighty thousand left on the mortgage. You want the house, then pony up two hundred and ten grand and it's yours." "Don't be stupid, Geoff. Where am I going to get that kind of money?" "Simple. Re-mortgage the house. You want it, you pay for it." At that point, I stood and pushed the chair back and walked out of the kitchen and upstairs to the guest room. I looked in and found my clothes hanging up in the closet and when I opened the drawers, the t-shirts, underwear and socks put away as well. My toiletries were stacked on the top of the dresser. I was fuming. I needed to calm down and collect my thoughts. I wanted to strike out at someone ... something. I would never hit Joyce, I had always thought, but I was perilously close to breaking that rule. She had just told me that I had wasted twenty years of my life loving and supporting her. She put no value on it other than her own sacrifices, as she characterized them. I sat on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands, the house strangely silent. I wondered if she had gone out. What to do. The boys were out, but they both had cell phones and I could contact them without having to negotiate or inform Joyce. I wondered if she had given them the same story as she gave me. I wondered what my sons thought about it all. I wondered about Joyce and why she felt she had to do this. She was an attractive woman with a good job. She dressed smartly, and radiated a presence that most other women couldn't. She was fairly tall and slim, but her exceptional posture wasn't rigid in the way some people can be. I had thought she loved me ... or at least she said she did. I hadn't seen any reason to doubt her. We had married when I graduated from the local college. She was a good looking blonde then, but decided to let her natural brunette color return when she went back to work four years ago. Apparently she thought people would take her more seriously with dark hair. This evening in the kitchen I got a whole new perspective on Joyce Nelson. As I sat there, I realized I didn't belong in this house any more. I was a stranger now; at best a guest. Any idea that I would stay here was out of the question. I walked downstairs and into the garage to get my suitcases. I would pack as much as I could and find a hotel or motel for the next few days. I didn't want to be here another minute. It took me almost an hour to load the essential clothes and accessories I would need to live on my own. I could return and get the rest tomorrow when Joyce was at work. Tonight I wanted out of there, and pronto. I carried the two suitcases downstairs and into the garage, putting them in the back of my vehicle. I found an empty bankers box, then went to my office and unplugged my laptop, printer, and scanner, and packed them in the box. At no time did I see any sign of Joyce. As I was about to leave, I looked upstairs and saw our bedroom door was closed. I wondered if she knew I was leaving. There was one way to make sure. With a bit of effort, I removed my wedding ring and placed it in the middle of the kitchen table. It was still light at eight o'clock that evening in mid-May. Monday night and I was looking for a place to stay. I was driving aimlessly, not knowing where I was headed. Finally, I pulled over to the side of the road to think. Our home was up in the hills on the west side, overlooking the Columbia River. We were surrounded by orchards and the occasional vineyard, and the view out over the valley was spectacular. We had bought the house at a bargain price ten years ago and it had been a home we thought we would never have to leave. My office, Valley Computer Services, was near Wenatchee Valley College, a handy location considering how many computers were in the hands of students. Unfortunately, the hotels on the town side were backing on the mainline of the BNSF railroad, and I knew that wouldn't work. I drove to the East Wenatchee side and found a motel not far from a shopping center and the bridge across the river. The vacancy sign was lit and I checked in. It was clean and seemed quiet enough. It would have to do for the present. I got little sleep that night. My mind was still reeling from Joyce's declaration, and I spent a good part of the night going over the past twenty years trying to determine just what went wrong. I shed some tears for what I would be losing. It all seemed so hopeless. Joyce hadn't left me a single thread to cling to. By six o'clock Tuesday morning I was no wiser. I rose, turned on the local news and went into the bathroom to conduct my morning ritual. By six-thirty I was beginning to feel a little better and I made my way to a small diner in the shopping center. The breakfast special looked fine and I ordered it along with a black coffee. I was surprised that I had an appetite. Our shop didn't open to the public until eight-thirty, but most of our commercial clients knew there would be someone there before eight o'clock. I was usually in the store before eight, but this morning I was there before seven-thirty. There were things I could do, but I wanted to make sure I caught our owner, Terry Jackson, before he got into something. I was going to tell him what was going on and that I would need some time to see my lawyer and other things. Terry walked in just before eight and expressed surprise that I was already there. "You fall out of bed, Geoff?" he grinned. "No. Nothing that simple. If you've got a couple of minutes, I'll fill you in." I poured out my tale of woe and Terry was immediately concerned. "Jesus, Geoff, that's cold. No tears ... no nothin'?" I shook my head. "Not from her. Anyway, I need to talk to my lawyer and I also want to go back to my house when Joyce is at work and get the rest of my things. I'm sorry if that puts you behind the eight-ball, Terry." "Sure ... don't worry about it. Do what you have to do. I'll hold the fort. If things get hairy, I'll be callin' you on your cell." "Great. Thanks. That takes a load off my mind." Terry was shaking his head as I left his office and headed into the back to finish the work I had begun. We had talked about my buying into the business, but it hadn't got to the serious stage yet. Just as well, since that would be another complication in the divorce. I'd discussed the idea with Joyce, but to be honest, she wasn't exactly jumping up and down with enthusiasm at the investment. I wondered now if she had been planning her departure for some time. I called Pete Mahoney's law office and left a message on the machine for him to call me on my cell as soon as possible. He usually got to his office just before nine, so I had some time to wait. I decided to head back to the house and clear out more of my things. I stopped at Staples and picked up a five-pack of banker's boxes and got to my house just before nine. I was in the middle of packing the first box when my cell phone went off. "You called?" Pete said without introduction. We'd known each other since high school and regularly played golf during the summer. He was a fixture in Wenatchee and had a thriving law practice, both civil and criminal. "Yeah ... have you got some time for me soon? I need to talk to you and it's fairly urgent." "Sure. I'll find some time. What's happening?" "Joyce has filed for divorce," I said simply. "What! I don't believe it. What the hell happened?" "Apparently I'm not stimulating or exciting enough for her. She's decided she's done her bit in raising the family and now wants out. I'm paraphrasing a bit, of course." "Shit, Geoff. What the hell is wrong with her? Is this menopause?" "Not according to her. Anyway, can we get together? I need representation." "Yeah. I'll clear my desk for one-thirty this afternoon. Will that work?" "Great. Thanks a ton, buddy. I feel better already just talking to you." "Who's representing Joyce?" "Ocsana somebody or other at Wendler-Milton. Do you know her?" "Yeah. She's okay. Not some man-eater, at least. I'll see you at one-thirty. Right now I've got to rearrange some things." "Thanks again, Pete." I hung up with a sigh of relief. I sat on the edge of the bed once more and looked around. The tears came again out of nowhere. I wondered how long this would go on. I wasn't functioning very well, but when I thought about it, I shouldn't have been surprised. It had only just happened. I never realized how much stuff I had. I'd better get moving if I wanted to get this done before my meeting with Pete. I had time for a quick sandwich at a local deli near Pete's office and made my appointment on time. Pete was waiting for me as I came in the front reception area and he came over, shook my hand, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we walked to his office. He was doing everything a friend could do to make me feel better. I passed the paperwork over to Pete, but he didn't look at it right away. "Tell me what you can remember about your conversation with Joyce last night," Pete began. I relayed what I could recall, warning Pete that I was in a state of shock for the first few minutes. He nodded his head in understanding. When I finished, he pulled the papers from the manila envelope. "So Joyce wanted you to sign this right away, did she?" "Yeah. I damned near did, but then I got my wits about me and told her we would talk through our lawyers." "How did she react to that?" "I think she was pissed, but it didn't seem to be a huge thing." "I want some time to go over these, Geoff. In the meantime, I want you to spend some time and think about what you want from this divorce. You have rights as well as Joyce, so don't worry about what you think you can have, just write down what you want. We're talking property, alimony, child care, savings ... the works. That way, I can weed through it and we can decide which are the most important things, and which ones we can use for bargaining chips." "Okay," I said with a sigh. Both Pete and I slumped back in our chairs. "Do you know how much Joyce makes at Koch Motors?" Pete asked. "Uhhm ... to tell the truth ... no. She's been filing her own return for about three years now ... just after she went back to work." "Remind me what she does there." "Well, she started out in the credit department, and now she's administrative assistant in that department. She's done very well as far as I can tell." "Does she contribute to the household?" "Yeah. She puts a thousand in every two weeks. She's been doing that since she started." "And you haven't seen any of her returns?" Pete asked, looking very curious. "No. I file my return myself because it's very straightforward. Apparently, someone at Koch does hers for her." "Interesting," was all Pete would say. "Does she have her own 401K?" "Yes. She and the company contribute." "Any idea how much it's worth?" I shook my head. "Not a clue." "What about the boys? How do they feel about all this?" "I haven't talked to them yet. I was too upset last night and too busy trying to get my affairs in order today. I'll talk to them tonight. I'm just hoping Joyce hasn't turned them against me." Pete smiled. "I doubt that she'd be able to do that, Geoff. Those two think you're pretty good ... as dads go." "Do you think they would choose to stay with Joyce?" "Well, my first guess is pragmatic. Who cooks, does the laundry, and generally looks after them when you're not there? They'll probably figure out that it's their best option for now. That could all change when they're a little older." "Yeah ... I suppose." "Have you checked your bank accounts to see if anything has happened since yesterday?" "Yeah. This morning. Nothing unusual. I moved half our savings into my personal account. I'll be stopping my pay check from going into the checking account." "Don't do that, Geoff. Let her make the first move. No problem with half the savings, but leave the checking alone. She's going to have to pay the bills now, and two thousand a month won't go very far." "Okay, anything else?" "Not for now. Just make up that list I talked about and I should be back to you in a day or so. I've got some digging to do. In the meantime, don't talk to Joyce, and make sure anything you take from the house is exclusively yours. Don't give Ocsana any ammunition. We're the good guys, remember?" he said, straight-faced. "Yeah ... sure. The good guys." It sure didn't feel like it, but I was certain Pete would do a thorough job. If anyone could save this situation, he would. Ch. 2 Game On That evening, I called the boys. They were together, so we linked the phones and had a three-way conversation. "So ... I guess your mother told you what's going on yesterday morning," I began. "Yeah," Matt answered. "It stinks, Dad. I don't understand it. She couldn't give us a real good reason why she wanted to divorce you. Just a bunch of mumbo-jumbo about wanting to realize her potential and get some meaning into her life. Where the hell does she come up with that bullshit?" "Okay, guys. Easy on the language, please. To answer your question, I have no idea where this came from or when it started. I can't think of anything in our life that would hint that she wasn't happy or satisfied. It's like she woke up yesterday morning and decided this had to be done." "We can't think of anything that would have given us a clue either, Dad," Ross chipped in. "I think that's the most bothersome thing, guys. None of us had any hint that she was unhappy or unsatisfied. I thought maybe that it was just me being insensitive to her and not noticing, but now ... with you guys not seeing anything either ... I'm just baffled." "Dad ... Ross and me ... uhhm ... we decided to stay here for now. Ross still has a year of school left and I'll be in Eugene in September. It seemed like the best idea for now. It's not like we're siding with Mom, okay?" "No need to explain, guys. I understand and I think it's the best thing for you too. I don't know where I'm going to be living, so this gives you a home address that you can count on." "Thanks, Dad. I'm glad you understand. Maybe we'll find out what's going on with Mom." "You never know, but don't feel you have to spy. In the end, it doesn't really matter. Your mother has decided to divorce me, and it doesn't sound like there's anything that will change her mind. I'm going to plan on being single sometime by the end of this year." "I hate this, Dad," Ross said, a sob in his voice. "This isn't right. How can she do this? Do you think she has a boyfriend somewhere?" "Hell, Ross, what gave you that idea? If she has, he's well hidden. Besides, if she has, he'll show up sooner or later after the divorce is final. We'll know one way or another. For now, let's give her the benefit of the doubt." "Jeez, Dad. You're sure being good about this. If it was me, I'd be going crazy," Matt said. "Not much point is there, Matt? It won't change anything. It might make things worse, in fact. So for now, cool it. Just try to get along with your mother and your life. You've got the summer before you have to go back to school, so I'm sure we'll find things to do together on the weekends." "Okay, Dad," Matt said quietly. I could tell both the boys were down about what was happening, and all I could do was to try not to add to that feeling. It would take a bit of acting for now, but it was necessary. We signed off after I promised we would have a nightly three-way call. I wanted to keep in touch with them and I planned to spend some time on the weekends with them. It was as much therapy for me as it was for them. Wenatchee Ch. 01-02 When I closed the phone, I realized I had a couple of other calls to make. I was sure my parents knew nothing about this. It would come as a big shock and there would be a thousand questions. I wasn't looking forward to it, but it had to be done. "Hi Mom, it's Geoff." "I know who it is, Geoffrey. I've known your voice for over forty years," she said with a hint of humor. "Mom ... I'm afraid I've got some bad news. Joyce has filed for divorce. She handed me the papers yesterday evening. I'm afraid she's serious. I know how much you liked her, and I didn't want you to hear it from someone else." "Oh, Geoffrey. I can't believe it. Why? Have you done something wrong?" I patiently explained what Joyce had said the evening before and how completely surprised I was. I had no inkling that she was unhappy. My mother was very sad, and after a few more words, handed the phone to my father. "I got the gist of that conversation, Geoff. I can't imagine what's got into that girl. She was so level-headed. A great mother, and from all you told me, a great wife. I don't understand it." "Neither do I, Dad. It may take a while before we find out just what drove her to this. Maybe we'll never know. The boys are staying with her because that makes the most sense. They're not happy, but they understand it's what's best." We talked a little longer and I promised to keep them informed of what was happening, even if it wasn't good news. I would make sure the boys would also call them regularly once a week. Now I had to call Joyce's parents. I was sure they knew by now, but I was close to both of them, particularly Mike, her father. Right from the beginning we hit it off and I really didn't want to lose contact with them, even if their daughter was dumping me. "Oh, hello Nora, it's Geoff." "Oh, Geoff. I'm so sorry. I just don't understand Joyce. What is she thinking? How could she tear a family apart like that? She said it wasn't your fault ... but ... if that's true, it must be her fault. I'm so upset with her that I can hardly keep my temper. Her father is furious. He thinks she's on drugs or something." "I think it's going to be a while before we find out just what is going on with her, Nora. But she's got her mind set on divorce, so I'm doing what I have to do to protect myself and the boys. I don't want a divorce, but Joyce is in the driver's seat and she's the one who's initiating the action. I just hope it doesn't get nasty." "Geoff ... I want you to promise me ... you won't abandon us. We love you and your boys and regardless of my crazy daughter, please don't forget us." "That's an easy promise to keep. I feel like you and Mike are my second parents and I need all the support I can get. Thank you for that." Nora handed the phone to her husband. It was a subdued and unhappy Mike Fielding that spoke. "How you makin' out, Son?" It was a familiar greeting, but with a somber edge. He had called me Son right from the beginning of our relationship. He was almost as much a father to me as my true father. Whatever chemistry was involved, we clicked and anyone who knew us could tell immediately. "I'll make it, Mike. It isn't going to be easy, but I've pretty much decided that what she wants is what she'll get. The only thing left is to argue over the details." "I do not understand that girl. I never in my dreams thought she would do something like this. She can't even explain it to us and make any sense. How the hell would you have a chance to figure her out?" "Well, Mike, we can beat this to death, but I don't see it changing anything. Like I said to Nora, maybe somewhere down the road we'll find out what prompted her to do this. But ... by then ... it won't make much difference, will it?" We talked a little about my plans for the short term, then my promise to make sure the boys kept in touch with them. More importantly to him, I promised I would be just as frequently in touch, no matter how the divorce went. He seemed satisfied with that, but not any happier. We ended the call with his wishing me good luck. It had been a little over twenty-four hours since Joyce dropped the bomb on me. A lot had happened, but there was a lot more to come. I had taken care of the mandatory things, now it was down to the nitty-gritty. I was going to be restless waiting for Pete to call and let me know what the next step was. I had been working on my list and I was pretty sure I had everything I wanted down on paper. If I'd forgotten something, I convinced myself that it couldn't have been that important. I tried to immerse myself in my work on Wednesday. I'd slept a little better the previous night, primarily because I was catching up on what I had missed on Monday night. Nonetheless, I felt more rested and alert, and surprisingly in a better mood. I had picked up the local paper with the intention of looking for a furnished apartment to rent. I had no idea if there were any available in Wenatchee, but with the number of seasonal and migrant workers now in the area for the cherry harvest, I doubted I'd be able to find anything. Just the same, I had to try. I was busy cleaning up a hard drive that had been hopelessly cluttered with rubbish and obsolete programs. It seemed like nothing had ever been deleted, so I was going through the painstaking process of trying to decide which programs were current, and which were candidates for disposal. I was almost done when Terry walked in and sat on the edge of the desk. "I was thinkin', Geoff. You know I've got that summer home up just north of Orondo. Normally, Tina and I would be there every weekend, but this past year her arthritis has been actin' up somethin' fierce. So, like I was sayin', you might want to use that place for a while until this divorce thing gets settled. You don't want to be livin' in that motel for too long." "Oh, hell Terry, that's a very generous offer, but I don't want to impose on you. I know that place is special to you." "Yeah ... well ... I know all that. It wouldn't be free, mind you, and you'd have to put up with me on a weekend now and then, but havin' it jest set there and nobody around wouldn't be good either. Hell, you bein' there would keep the break-ins and rowdy types away. That would be good for me." "Well, it's a hell of an offer, Terry. How much would you want for rent?" "How's about five hundred a month?" he said, squinting to see if it was too much. "Are you kidding? You could get five hundred a week for that place. It's beautiful and right on the river too." "Well then, what are we arguin' about? Five hundred a month and I get to join you on any weekend where Tina's sister is around to keep an eye on her." "You're serious about this?" "Damn sure I am." "Thank you, Terry. That takes a load off my mind. Just one thing. I wonder if it would be okay if the boys were with me on some weekends. If I recall, we can find a place for them to sleep that won't bother anyone." "Hell, yes. They can sleep on the porch. There's an old sofa bed out there. The breeze off the river keeps it cool at night. I've slept out there plenty of nights." "That's great! When do you think it would be okay for me to move up there?" "Tell you what. Tina's sister is going to be here this weekend. We can take my truck and move your stuff up there this Saturday. You can buy the beer," he laughed. "Done. Damn it, Terry, this is really super of you. I can't thank you enough." "Well, Geoff, divorce ain't cheap. You're a damn fine employee and one of these days I want you to be able to buy this business from me so Tina and I can go south to Arizona. She always feels better when we go there in the winter." "I'll get my stuff organized Friday night and be ready for you when you get to the motel on Saturday morning." "Shit, man. Why don't we just load up Friday night and head on up there? Gives us some extra drinkin' time on Saturday." "Okay," I laughed, "just let me know when you want to go and I'll be ready." Terry Jackson started Valley Computer Services nearly thirty years ago when the PC was just getting a foothold in the home. He was ahead of his time, and thus got a lot of business on the early machines. He looked and acted like a "good old boy," but he was savvy and had keen eye for customer service. It was that service that made Valley Computer the biggest and the best in the Wenatchee area. It was by all appearances, a small outfit. What weren't visible were the contracts for commercial services that were the foundation of the company. City and state offices, commercial operations, all counted on him to keep them in business. To that end, his key employee was me, Geoff Nelson. I had the know-how to problem-solve and satisfy the customer. Terry wasn't shy about charging for these services, but when the chips were down, the customer knew either Terry or I could bail them out. It was a substantial service charge that allowed Terry to pay me well above standard for the job. I could count on sixty thousand a year, plus a share of the profits. It made the job enjoyable and worthwhile, even though Joyce thought it was just a small business. I stopped trying to convince her that it was otherwise. It wasn't worth arguing over. I decided not to take the boys up to Orondo that first weekend. I would let them know about the offer of the cottage next week after I'd got settled and was convinced that on weekends when both Terry and I were there, there would be room for my sons. I did not want to inconvenience my friend and host. It was Thursday before noon when Pete called me on my cell. "Hey, Geoff. Can you come to the office later this afternoon? I've got some things to discuss." "Sure, is four o'clock okay?" "See you then, and bring your list." I smiled at the receptionist in Pete Mahoney's outer office as I announced myself. Pete was out to greet me a couple of minutes later and the two of us walked down the hall to Pete's office. "So ... where are we?" I began. "We are sitting with several questions that need answers. I am going to request Joyce, via Ocsana, hand over her last three income tax returns. To do that, I'll have to surrender your last three to her. Do you have a problem with that?" "Nope. Nothing to hide. I'll get them for you tomorrow morning." "Good. That's step one. Step two. Do you have a college savings account for the boys?" "Yes ... it's set up separately. Last time I checked everything was in order. Matt won't need much this coming year. He has an academic scholarship to the University of Oregon. It'll cover about seventy-five percent of his costs." "Good, that's looked after then. Step three. Does Joyce own her car?" "Not exactly. She leases it from Koch. Some kind of special deal they gave her." "Does she pay for the insurance, gas, maintenance, and lease costs?" "I guess so. I know I don't." "Okay, good. Step four. Do you own any other property beside your residence?" "No. At least ... not yet. I stand to inherit half my parents' orchards when they pass on. My sister and I will share that." "Okay. Not a problem. I'm assuming that won't be in the property settlement since they are both in good health." "This is all about property division in the divorce, isn't it?" "Yep. The judge, assuming we go to court, will want a full disclosure of the assets of the family to determine who gets what. Hopefully, it won't get to that. If we can work out an acceptable settlement without needing a ruling, we'll be much better off." I nodded. That part I understood. It was going to be a lot less costly to settle this among the two parties without going to court. I was pretty sure Joyce was thinking that too. "So ... where are we Pete?" "Well, I was going to set up a meeting with Joyce and Ocsana for us, but I've changed my mind. I think we should wait until we get their asset list and Joyce's tax returns. We may get some surprises that will tip the table in our favor. So ... for now, give me your list that you were working on and we'll go over it. Then, it's a waiting game to see how long it takes to get the information we need." "What would happen if Joyce refused to hand over the returns?" "I doubt that will happen. Ocsana will counsel her that we could get a court order and by doing that, it would put her in a bad light when it went to court." Pete looked at my list of wants and nodded as he read it. "I don't see anything in here that sticks out as a problem at first reading, Geoff. Most of this looks like everyday, ordinary things. I notice you're not expecting to have to pay either alimony or child support. That may be a bit trickier, but we'll work around that. We may have to do a bit of horse-trading." "To be honest, Pete, I don't expect to get away with no child support, but the alimony will stick in my craw if she gets that. This was her idea and not mine. That may be a deal-breaker." Pete smiled. "I'll keep that in mind, but let's wait until we see just how much income Joyce has coming in. I'm also going to ask for her car allowance and expenses. That should be on the tax return as well. If she's getting a free ride from Koch, then we want to figure that into the settlement too." I spent almost an hour in the office with my friend and lawyer. His calmness and professionalism were keeping me from getting upset. He had a strategy and I quickly saw that I was much better off leaving this in his hands than flying off the handle and getting unnecessarily angry. I had to admit, I was getting periods when I was angry. It was something that was growing on me as I thought more and more about what Joyce had done. I heard nothing from Pete on Friday, and by that afternoon, Terry and I had my possessions in his truck and my Outback as we headed out to Orondo. It was only a half-hour drive up river, and we unloaded the pickup and my wagon within a few minutes. The summer home was a two bedroom cottage with a large living room, one bathroom, a medium sized kitchen, and a large screened-in porch that could be winterized with storm windows. In the back, there were a couple of out buildings for storage. I put my extra things in one of the sheds. I chose the second bedroom for myself, leaving Terry the main bedroom for his visits. We argued about it for a bit, but in the end I convinced him that I would be more comfortable about the arrangement that way. He finally gave in. We ate at a small barbeque restaurant in the town, washing the food down with a couple of beers. The conversation was light and we avoided the mess my personal life was going through. He pointed out the laundromat and the convenience store, but other than some seasonal fruit stands, there weren't many places to shop. I figured to keep an insulated cooler in my car and do my shopping in town before heading north to the cottage. I had picked up a dozen MGDs in Wenatchee that afternoon and we transferred them into the refrigerator at the cottage. When we got back from the restaurant, Terry and I sat out on the porch with a couple of cold ones, just passing the time and watching the scenery. "This is a real peaceful place, Terry. I can see why you'd want to spend a lot of time up here in the summer." "It's not too bad in the winter, either," he said. "Awful quiet, but with the hassle of business and all, I don't mind quiet. I've got the satellite TV, so I don't lack for entertainment. A few years ago, I put in all new windows and insulated the place properly, so it's nice and cozy in the cold weather. There's lots of wood for the fireplace, and there was a time when Tina and I would come up here just to be together. It's a damn shame she can't get out to enjoy it like we used to." We spent the mid-May weekend getting the grass cut, the weeds pulled, the trim painted, and generally preparing the cottage for the summer weather. It would be far too hot to do much after ten or so in the morning during July and August. Normally, this type of weekend would be a pain in the ass, but for whatever reason, I enjoyed the two days of work, beer, barbeque, and conversation. I at least owed it to Terry to pitch in. It would be my responsibility to make sure the place stayed neat and clean as long as I was living there. He and I headed back to Wenatchee on Monday morning, opening the store before eight. I noticed more and more traffic now, particularly coming in from East Wenatchee. The town was growing, and with the cherry harvest underway it was busy with migrant workers and equipment in the orchards. For those of us who were natives of the area, we were used to the cycles that the orchards created. Cherries, peaches, apricots, pears, and apples. The volume of fruit always amazed me, considering the size of the valley. To be continued Editing by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks for their thoroughness and helpful suggestions. Any errors are mine.