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204 Rosewood Lane


“Allison says this whole divorce is bogus.”

Zach noted that bogus was currently a favorite word of his daughter’s. He didn’t bother to respond.

“Will you talk to Mom?”

Not if he could avoid it, Zach mused. They no longer argued, and for that he was grateful. If anything, Rosie went out of her way to be polite. It was almost as though they were strangers. His wife, however, had plenty to say to her attorney. His sins were outlined in legal documents that went on for pages. Knowing it would anger him to read anything more than the title page, Zach left everything to his attorney. He’d known Otto Benson for years and had frequently worked with him, and he trusted Otto to represent him fairly.

“You ready to help me load everything into the car?” he asked his son.

“Okay.” Eddie didn’t reveal a lot of enthusiasm. He slid off the edge of the bed and paraded behind Zach with an armload of clothes. Zach arranged the starched dress shirts on the back seat of his car and took the stack Eddie had brought out with him.

“Do you want to see my apartment?” he asked Allison when he returned to the kitchen.

His daughter removed her earphones and turned off the portable CD player. She stared at him a moment as though she hadn’t heard. Finally she muttered, “Are you really going to leave, Dad?”

“I’m afraid so, sweetheart.”

“But you vowed to always love Mom.”

“I know, and this is hard, but you can see that your mother and I do nothing but argue. That’s not good. We’re going through this divorce for you kids, to save you from—”

“You’re doing this for me and Eddie? I don’t think so, Dad. It seems to me you and Mom are doing this for yourselves. Eddie and I just happen to be stuck in the middle, and I hate it. I really, really hate it.” She was shouting by the time she finished. Before Zach could reply, Allison slipped the headphones back over her ears, blocking him out.

Zach saw the tears in his daughter’s eyes and they twisted his gut. He wanted to tell her that the difficulties between him and Rosie had nothing to do with her or Eddie. This wasn’t their fault.

Maybe he and Rosie had outgrown each other. That was something he’d read in an article on marriage breakdown that Janice had given him. She’d photocopied it from some women’s magazine. Maybe he and Rosie had stopped having anything, other than the kids and the house, in common, as the article suggested. Perhaps because he made a good living and they were now financially comfortable they’d lost that sense of being partners, facing the world together, creating dreams together. Lately their marriage had been filled with bitterness and resentment. All they did was make each other miserable, and that was no way to live and certainly not a healthy environment in which to raise their children.

Looking around the house one last time, Zach loaded up his remaining essentials. For obvious reasons, Rosie had been missing for most of the day. This was no surprise, seeing that she spent the greater part of every weekend with people other than her family, anyway. Nor did it upset him when he noticed the breakfast dishes still in the sink, unwashed. That was par for the course. He had his own list of sins that his wife had committed, but unless she made it impossible, he was taking the higher road and refused to drag her faults into a courtroom.

“You coming to see my new apartment?” he asked Eddie, striving for a bit of enthusiasm.

“I guess.”

“You’ll have your own room there, you know.” The second bedroom was necessary if he intended to have the children stay with him, and Zach did. He couldn’t afford beds just yet, but he’d buy them as soon as possible.

“I don’t wanna sleep in the same room as Allison,” Eddie complained.

“You can sleep in my room if you want.”

“I can?”

“Sure thing.”

That appeared to appease Eddie for the moment.

Before he left, Zach asked Allison a second time if she wanted to see his new place, but she sat with her earphones on, music blaring, and pretended not to hear him. She was angry and Zach understood how she felt. Eventually she’d come around and they’d be able to discuss this. Allison had always been closer to him than her mother.

The two-bedroom apartment was a little less than three miles from the house on Pelican Court

. It wasn’t as large, but then he could barely afford to maintain two households. He’d wanted a three-bedroom place, but couldn’t find one within his limited budget. He’d chosen this complex so the kids would still be in the same school district. Otto was hammering out a parenting plan with Rosie’s attorney.

Once at his apartment, Zach opened the door for his son. Eddie walked into the living room and glanced around, frowning. “Where’s the TV?”

“I’m taking the one in the master bedroom.” Rosie and he were still in the process of dividing everything up, but most of the furniture had yet to be moved. So far, Rosie hadn’t been difficult about the division of household assets, and Zach trusted that would continue. Considering that he was the one who’d paid for everything in the family home, it was only right that he take what he needed for his new place.

Apparently it hadn’t occurred to Rosie that she was going to have to find a job. Zach made a respectable income, but he couldn’t afford to pay all the expenses for two households. For the first time since the children were born, Rosie would be forced to work outside the home.

“Check out the bedroom,” Zach said as he hauled a load of clothes into the larger of the two rooms. The newly carpeted room was stark and empty without a bed, but all of that would be resolved shortly. Soon, Zach told himself, he’d feel just as much at home here as he had in the family residence.

“Hello.” A soft rapping was followed by a voice Zach recognized instantly.


“Janice.” Zach hadn’t expected a visit from his assistant, especially on a weekend. “Hello,” he said.

Shyly, she came into the apartment with a boy close to Eddie’s age.

“This is my son, Chris,” she said with her arm around her son’s shoulders.

“This is Eddie.”

“Hi,” Eddie said, sounding tentative.

“I thought I’d stop by and ask if you have everything you need,” Janice said. “I know how much work moving can be and I wanted to see if there’s anything I can do.”

She’d always been helpful, and Zach appreciated her efforts more than ever. She brought in a sack and placed it on the kitchen counter.

“Eddie, why don’t you show Chris the apartment?” Zach suggested. Almost immediately the two boys disappeared into the back bedroom.

“I brought you a housewarming gift,” Janice said, then proceeded to unpack a coffeepot, plus grounds.

“You didn’t need to do that.” Zach remained on the other side of the kitchen, a little uncomfortable with her generosity.

“I know…You can tell me to get lost if you want, but I knew you were moving in today. I know from my own experience how difficult this is and I hope the transition goes smoothly for you and your wife.”

“Thank you.” Zach preferred to keep his business and his personal life separate, but without Janice’s help in this recent crisis, he didn’t know what he would’ve done.

An hour later when he drove back to the house with Eddie, the first thing he noticed was Rosie’s car parked in the driveway. Eddie brightened as soon as he saw it. He threw open the car door and raced toward the house. Zach followed with far less enthusiasm. He’d hoped to move all his personal stuff before Rosie returned. There were still books and CDs and…

“Hi,” Rosie said, her face tense, but not unfriendly. “I see you’re packing up.”

Zach nodded.

“I made a new friend,” Eddie said, hugging his mother about the waist.

“That’s nice. You’ll have friends both here and at your dad’s place.”

“Chris doesn’t live in the apartment building. His mother is Dad’s assistant and they came over with a gift to warm the house.”

Sure enough, his wife’s eyes narrowed to thin, angry slits. “I’ll just bet,” she muttered under her breath, then stormed out of the kitchen.

Zach’s shoulders sagged in defeat. This was something Rosie would try to use against him when they went to court. Janice’s innocent gesture of friendship and support would be turned into “evidence.”

Cliff Harding had a good feeling about this Saturday afternoon date with Grace. It’d been three weeks since their dinner and they’d spoken intermittently on the phone. He could tell that Grace still had reservations regarding their relationship. Something had happened in the past three weeks. He wasn’t sure what, but when they did speak she’d sounded shaken and uneasy. When he asked her about it, she made excuses and quickly got off the phone.

Under normal conditions, he would’ve questioned Charlotte, who was his best source when it came to Grace, but his friend had enough to deal with. She’d soon undergo surgery, followed by chemo, which was hard on a person, physically and emotionally. He’d seen his own father waste away, ravaged by lung cancer. Of course, back in those days they didn’t have the effective cancer treatments they had now. Still…

So, no, he couldn’t ask Charlotte what was going on with Grace. She had troubles enough of her own.

But Cliff was convinced it had to do with Dan. She wanted answers about what had happened to her ex-husband, and hadn’t realized yet that the peace she sought had to come from within.

However, he was encouraged by her invitation to lunch. Perhaps now he’d understand what had caused her to withdraw from such a promising beginning.

It was a blustery, windy day, the first weekend in February, when he drove into town. The sky was leaden, threatening rain.

Buttercup announced his arrival with a sharp bark, then ambled onto the porch where Cliff stood waiting. The golden retriever wagged her tail, and after Cliff rang the front doorbell, he leaned down and stroked the dog’s silky fur. At least he’d managed to win her over.

“Hello, Cliff,” Grace said, sounding stiff and reserved. She unlocked the screen door to let him in. “Typical February day, isn’t it?”

He agreed, thinking she looked wonderful in a red turtleneck sweater and tight jeans. The scent of chili simmering in a Crock-Pot on the kitchen counter wafted toward him and he breathed in appreciatively.

“Smells good.”

“It’s my chili.” Her eyes refused to meet his. “Would you like to sit down?” She motioned toward the living room.

“Sure.”

She waited until he was seated, then sat across from him. “I’ve been rude lately and I thought I should explain what’s been going on.”

“Please.” He waited patiently, settling back on the worn, comfortable chair. He noticed she didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. First she clasped them together as though praying, then she slid them between her knees. Buttercup lay down at Grace’s feet.
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