The Power House Wives. Fredrica Greene
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sitting on a big chunk of my assets. When the layoffs start in this town, house prices are going to tank. I want to sell before word gets out."
"I can't believe you'd do this to me."
"As I recall, you're the one that wanted the divorce."
"I had good reason," she snapped.
He wrinkled his brow as if this topic pained him as much as it did her. "I would have broken it off."
"I'll tell you what you should have broken off."
"Sarcasm isn't like you, Charlotte."
I know. I was the perfect wife, she thought. And look where that got me. "People change."
Charlotte signaled for the waiter. "Wrap this up to go," she said indicating her plate.
"You haven't touched anything," Craig said.
"I've lost my appetite." Her pets would dine lavishly tonight. "By the way, if you need the money so badly, why don't you send What's-her-name out to work? As her former boss, you can give her a good reference."
"Don't be childish. It's beneath you. Besides, that wouldn't solve anything. Caprice couldn't earn enough to pay for child care for Cassie."
Ouch. That stung. The mention of his other child. Except at the graduation, their own two hadn't heard from him since the divorce. She toyed with the steak knife. She felt like using it on him. "You won't be working. You can babysit."
"Very funny. Listen, Charlotte, I want to do this amicably. You don't want to battle this out in court and have the money eaten up in lawyers' fees."
The waiter returned with Charlotte's lunch. She stood and took the bag.
"You can't go," Craig said. "We haven't finished talking."
"I have." She grabbed her purse.
"Walking out won't solve anything."
"I'm not feeling very amicable right now." She'd been an idiot to expect good news. She should have known Craig better than that. And to think she had wondered if she would take him back. Well, at least she wouldn't have to make that decision.
At two o'clock the next afternoon, Charlotte sat in the fifth floor office of her divorce attorney. She chewed her lip nervously as Paul McBride sat across from her behind his massive desk and perused her file through rimless half-glasses. In the past three years his face had grown ruddier and fuller. His jowls waggled as he reviewed the court order that had cemented the dissolution of her marriage.
Finally, he set the papers down. "The best I can suggest is you buy out his share."
Charlotte shook her head. "There's no way."
"I don't see any alternative." He tilted back in his chair as if that was the end of it.
"He doesn't need my house. He has one twice as big."
"That's irrelevant."
Charlotte folded her arms."It's not fair."
"That's also irrelevant."
"That house was mine. My grandfather built it. My father left it to me."
"As I recall we argued that point to the judge, but since both names were on the deed..." he shrugged.
"As you should recall," she said, emphasizing the 'you', “that was because Craig lied to me. Remember? We needed to borrow for the kids' college expenses and had to put the house up for collateral. The bank wouldn't lend us money unless Craig's name was on the deed. He promised to deed it right back to me after we got the loan."
"But he didn't."
"He said he'd taken care of it. Stupid me. I trusted him."
"Unfortunately, in the eyes of the law, you both own that house."
"No wonder Lady Justice wears a blindfold. The law is blind. Guess I was blind, too." She leaned forward and rested her hands on the edge of the desk. "Isn't there some way to save my house? Something we can do?"
"I'm afraid not." He stood up to indicate the meeting was over. "I wish I could give you better news."
"So do I."
Charlotte gripped the steering wheel tight, fantasizing it was Craig's neck. She would not give up. Mc Bride was not the only game in town. There were plenty of attorneys. She'd go through the phone book from A to Z if necessary.
As she let herself into her house, all four of her dogs greeted her, anxious for their afternoon walk. She had never intended to have so many dogs. She had adopted them one by one as she met them during her volunteer stints as a dog walker at the Humane Society. Now she had Lucky, a rambunctious Labrador, Gunther, an aging German Shepherd, Corky, part Corgi and part terrier, and Sophie, a small mutt of unidentifiable parentage. She couldn't understand how people could abandon their pets just because they were old and no longer frisky. On the other hand, Craig had done the same to her, so why should she be surprised?
Charlotte cut the meat from her uneaten lunch into marble-size pieces she parceled into four bowls on the kitchen floor. The dogs eagerly chowed down. Except Corky, her half Corgi, half terrier mutt. He sniffed at his dish and walked away. Charlotte followed him, reached down and felt his nose. It was hot and dry. When she started to pick him up, his body stiffened and started to quiver violently. Alarmed, she called Mark Kamron, the veterinarian she met at the Humane Society. "Bring him in right away," he instructed.
Corky was too listless to protest as she gently pulled him from under the table. This was not a good sign. The phone rang as she was leaving. She had no time to talk, but it might be Meredith. Her daughter called her about this time every week. Snuggling Corky against her body with one arm, she picked up the receiver.
"This is Sheila Barnett," the caller said. "I'm Craig Armstrong's realtor. I'd like to come over. When would be a good time?"
"I can't talk now," Charlotte snapped, and hung up.
Corky whimpered as the vet prodded him gently. "We'll need to do some tests," he said. "Leave him here overnight."
Charlotte stroked Corky's head. "I hope it's nothing serious."
"I'll call you when the tests come back," he said.
The next morning Charlotte sat at her kitchen table, drinking her third cup of coffee, when the phone rang.
The vet sounded somber. "I'm sorry to tell you, but Corky's lungs are filled with tumors. He can hardly breathe."
Charlotte felt the same way.
"I can try to keep him comfortable," he said, "but he would have to be heavily sedated."
Charlotte's mouth went dry."What would you do?"
"His time has come. You've given him a good life. Now it would be doing him a kindness to put him to sleep."
"Okay," she whispered.
"Do you want to say goodbye, or would that be too difficult?"
"I"ll be there. I can't let him go alone."
The reception area of the clinic was empty as Charlotte was the last client of the day. She sat on one of the orange vinyl couches and plucked a magazine from the pile on the corner table. She was only there a few minutes before the young assistant appeared from the back and invited Charlotte into the examination room. Charlotte shuddered as she followed her in. The room was windowless and cold, with white cabinets lining one wall and a steel table in the center.
As soon as she saw Corky, Charlotte knew there was no choice. Even in his semi-conscious state, his breathing was labored. She could hardly stand to stay in the room, but she had to do this for Corky's sake. He opened his soft brown eyes and seemed to recognize her as she cradled him in her arms. Mark administered the fatal injection. Corky took his last breath, his coat dampened with her tears. Mark took the limp body from her and handed it to his assistant, who carried it from the room. Charlotte leaned her forehead against the wall.
Mark