“We are.”
“Not like that. About our marriage, and how we can fix it. We at that stage already, where the only way we can communicate with each other is through our lawyers?”
“No…”
“Then what’s Albert Finney doing in my kitchen?”
“Jake, think of our marriage like a pane of glass…”
“A metaphor? Really?”
“Okay, maybe that was a bad way to start out.”
“Ya think?”
Over the next five minutes Grace callously outlines the terms of our separation as she and Murray have discussed. It’s all times when I can see Ellie, and punishments for my not sticking to the schedule. In a daze, I don’t listen to any of it. I’m thinking of what the homeless guy said to me that evening, when marriage seemed so fresh, and how even though he was drunk out of his mind he was completely right about the doom and gloom that was on the horizon. I’m also thinking about how the lady who I intended to share my life with could’ve turned her feelings off like a tap.
Grace interrupts my daze by saying, “You okay, Jake? I haven’t said anything for the last thirty seconds, and you just nodded.”
I think a second. Then I blurt out, “Is there a chance, no matter how slim?”
There’s a second between us that seems to last a lifetime. Then she shakes her head no.
I check my watch. I say, “I better be going. I have an appointment soon.”
It’s in an hour, but I have to get out of here. Even if it means leaving Murray and Grace alone.
I nod again. “He looks the punctual type.”
“Are you… Are you going to be okay?”
“Sure.”
“Like really okay?”
“I’ll see myself out.” Before I go to leave, I walk to where Grace is sitting. I bend at the waist, leaning forward. Grace leans forward, too, goes to kiss me on the lips, but she wasn’t my intended target. I avoid Grace, her lips brushing my ear lobe, and kiss Ellie on the head. And say, “See ya, kiddo.”
I leave the home I built with Grace feeling strangely fine. Maybe it’s the two weeks I’ve had to prepare for this moment that, even though I hoped it wasn’t so, I knew deep down was an inevitability.
Or maybe it hasn’t sunk in yet.
Or maybe it’s because I’ve always wanted to scrape my car keys along the length of a divorce lawyer’s car.
The End
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About the Author
Dan Taylor is an English dude stranded in Oslo, Norway. His girlfriend, a blonde-haired Norwegian national, kidnapped him, but he doesn’t require rescuing. He’s the author of the Jake Hancock series and doesn’t take himself seriously as an author, though he works his ass off to make his readers and himself laugh. He doesn’t like skiing, probably because he sucks at it, but he can build one hell of a snowman. You can read his blog at https://jakehancockbooks.wordpress.com/
The Jake Hancock P.I. series
Bad Guy Detective
Out of Crime
Saving Grace
Our Little Secret
Dead Friends Don’t Lie
Road Trip
No Good Guys Left
Jake Hancock Universe Thrillers
No Hitmen in Heaven
Lloyd Onion Eats at Night