Authors: Nancy Frederick
Annabeth remained, along with Laurel, Sally, who was now recovered, although looking quite pale, Jackson, Maggie and Hugh.
"That damn Jambalaya nearly killed us all," said Maggie sharply. "The shrimp must have turned.
Or the sausage.
Did it taste odd to you?"
"I didn't eat at all," commented Annabeth.
"Gosh, Maggie, I'm really sorry."
Maggie looked at her with annoyance.
"Um, I have something to say," interjected Sally.
Jackson reached his hand to cover hers, as she continued, but she removed her hand from beneath his.
"Maybe we are too young.
I'm sorry Jackson, but I don't think we should get married now.
I think I should go back home to Mom for a while."
All eyes turned toward her.
"What?" said Jackson.
"You're kidding, right?" said Maggie, glaring at Annabeth.
"My goodness!" exclaimed Annabeth.
"What's the hurry?" said Laurel as Jackson scowled at her.
"Why don't we go in the other room to let the kids work this through on their own," said Hugh.
"Jackson and I can talk alone tomorrow.
Tonight I just want to go home to my own room and get some sleep," said Sally.
"Let me help Maggie clean up a bit first," said Annabeth.
"No need to bother," answered Maggie coldly.
Annabeth reached to hug her friend, who was wooden and unyielding, and then glared at Annabeth as she walked through the door behind her daughters.
5
On Sunday morning Annabeth sat with her daughters at the kitchen table, all three of them gloomy in the aftermath of the party.
R.J. had said he'd drop by sometime and Annabeth was nervous.
"Oh, Mom," Sally wailed.
"Daddy with that trampy girl last night.
What was he thinking?"
"When does the bastard ever think about anything," said Laurel.
There was a pounding at the door, and Annabeth let Jackson in.
He was carrying a large bundle of mismatched flowers, which he presented to Sally.
"I stole these all over town."
Annabeth placed a glass of juice in front of Jackson, asking "Have you had your breakfast yet?"
His expression was guarded as he replied, "No, but I'm not hungry."
Annabeth looked toward Laurel.
"Come on, let's go in the other room."
"No, Mom, I need you right here."
"I know you're upset about your dad," said Jackson in a voice that was calm and quiet.
He reached a strong hand toward Sally, enveloping her smaller hand in his.
"Daddy's a big jerk."
"I'm not your dad, you know."
Sally dissolved in tears.
"Oh, God," she mumbled, "I don't know.
I just want to stay here with Mom for a while.
Then maybe we can talk?
Okay?"
"No, it's not okay, but what choice do I have?"
Jackson sighed and rose to leave.
Annabeth walked him to the door, then spoke softly, "I wanted you to wait a bit, but I didn't want you to be hurt."
Jackson shook his head and walked through the door.
Annabeth returned to the kitchen where she sat next to her daughter, "Listen to me, Sally.
You can stay here as long as you want.
But I just want to make sure you know what you want."
"Yeah, kid what's the hurry?
Trouble with living in a small town like this is that there's nothing to do but get married.
In the real world there are other choices, you know," said Laurel, trying to be kind but sounding gruff.
"I want to stay here.
I need to think about Jackson and this whole wedding thing.
I'll go by our apartment and pick up a few outfits.
Not everything, just some clothes."
"All right, sweetie."
Annabeth patted Sally's hand.
"You come home and I'll take care of you."
At that moment, R.J. let himself in the front door, walked back to the kitchen, tossed a manila envelope on the table and smiled nonchalantly at his family.
"Hi, girls."
He was obviously none the worse for wear after the evening's debacle, because he casually reached into the refrigerator, located a beer, popped the top, then took a long swig.
Laurel got up from the table and said, "Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?"
Without waiting for his reply, she left the room.
"We're all really upset with you, Daddy, I hope you know that," said Sally, following her sister out of the room.
Annabeth scrutinized R.J.'s face.
There was no sign of guilt or remorse.
Apparently he had no intention of apologizing.
She shook her head, took a deep breath, then said quietly, "You did a terrible thing last night.
The girls and I were humiliated and everyone was embarrassed for us."
"Seemed like they were too busy pukin' up that food you served to take no notice of me."
"How could you do that, R.J.?"
He took a deep breath, then another and said "I wanna divorce."
Annabeth swallowed hard, attempting to maintain her composure.
The tears welled up in her eyes, and she couldn't stop them from running down her cheeks.
R.J. opened the envelope in front of him, removed the documents and placed them in front of Annabeth.
"I seen a lawyer and it's all took care of.
All you gotta do is sign these papers."
Her heart thudded in her chest.
She should want a divorce, should be the one flinging papers in front of him, but in spite of everything, she didn't want to let go. "I don't want a divorce."
"I'm in love with someone else.
That's all there is to it."
Annabeth wept, lifting an unused napkin now and then to her eyes to blot away the tears.
"That girl is what--Laurel's age?
This is crazy."
"Look, we haven't had no life together for a long time.
I gotta life with someone else.
Things I wanna do."
"But I love you."
His voice grew just a bit softer, just a bit more yielding.
"We were together for a long time and I love you too Annabeth.
But I'm in love with her.
What we had is more like a memory--a good memory--but not hardly part of today."
She shook her head.
"What will I do without you?"
He coughed.
"You gonna move to town.
Get a nice little apartment closer to people, closer to Sally.
You can live in Ma's apartment if you want.
And I'll take care of the rent--say for five, no ten years.
You'll find someone else.
Sure you will.
A great cook like you."
He thought she was a great cook, or was that a snide remark in light of the previous night's disaster?
Either way it didn't matter.
She had loved him all her adult life and all he could say about her was that she was a great cook.
"Move?
Why would I move?"
Annabeth cringed at the idea of moving back to her mother-in-law's garage apartment.
"I'm gonna sell this place, of course."
"Sell our home?"
"And when I sell it, don't worry, I'll give you a nice settlement.
Five, no ten thousand dollars."
"This is my house.
My home.
I spent twenty years fixing it up."
"Yeah and you did a great job.
It was a piece of shit when we got it.
A miracle it was still standing.
But it isn't your house.
It's my house."
"It's our house, R.J..
We're married."
"How did I get this house?"
She grimaced, looking at him through tears.
"You won it in a poker game."
"Exactly.
I won it.
It's not marital assets--it's poker winnings."
Annabeth thought for a moment, wiping her eyes.
No, he couldn't be right.
"It doesn't matter, R.J..
Everything we own is joint assets.
Doesn't matter how you got it.
And I don't want to leave my house."
"You got no choice," he replied, angrily leaping up.
She was about to touch his arm gently, hoping to calm his wrath, but he stormed past her, saying, "See how good you do without me to foot all your bills.
I don't gotta pay your rent for ten years, you know.
And now I'll be damned if I will."
He shoved her aside and pushed past her, striding toward the door and slamming it behind him.
Annabeth slumped down in a chair, her head buried in her hands.
She faced for the first time the fact that her marriage was over, something she had known all along but hadn't wanted to admit.
R.J. was gone.
They weren't getting back together.
He could divorce her, but could he take her home?
And what would she do without him to support her?
She had about ten dollars in her wallet.
How long could that last?
The thoughts swirled through her head like light shimmering off the overheated pavement.
The girls raced into the room then and sat down with her.
"What happened?
I hope you told him off,"
said Laurel.
For a moment she thought it would be impossible to speak, but her voice did work and Annabeth said, "We're getting a divorce.
He says he's selling the house."
Sally burst into tears and clung to Annabeth's hand, but Laurel was cool as ice.
"You're better off without the bastard.
But why sell the house?"
Annabeth shook her head miserably as Laurel continued, her voice seething with anger, "You love this house."
"This is our home," said Sally.
"Pops is a lawyer.
Hugh is a lawyer.
We're surrounded by lawyers in this family."
Laurel was right.
Why should she give up so easily?
R.J. always said he was going to do things that he never managed to do.
She could talk to her father, could fight back.
This was her home.
"You're right, of course.
I'll call your grandfather."
Annabeth squeezed her daughters' hands.
"We'll fight back."
Annabeth walked upstairs so she could talk privately.
On a hunch, she dialed the bank's number, where an electronic voice revealed to her that there was a three-dollar balance in the checking account she shared with R.J. and that the savings account had been closed.
Annabeth held her hands to her head.
She didn't have a cent.
She dialed her father's number.
"Dad!
I need your help."
She told her father the whole story, glancing at the clock now and then, hoping she wasn't taking up too much of his time.
"All right, dear, calm down.
Everything you own is joint assets, including poker winnings."
His voice was so strained, so scornful, that Annabeth hated to continue, but she had to know.
"So R.J. can't make me move out of my house?"
"Can you afford to buy his half from him?"
"Of course not.
You know I don't have any money of my own.
And R.J. won't give me any; he expected me to sign those papers just like that."
"If you sell the house, you'll split the proceeds.
That should give you a nice nest egg.
And there's his business.
You're entitled to half its worth as well."
"So I might really have to move?"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves just yet, okay? Come into the office tomorrow.
Quentin will file a petition for temporary support and begin process of disclosure.
R.J.'s lawyer will have to hand in a financial affidavit."