I SHOULD BE crying. I should be depressed. I should be drinking large of amounts of alcohol or eating ice cream out of the carton. Instead, I’m doing my quarterly accounting and billing books. I do feel bad, but there’s a part of me where relief is the only thing I feel.

“Hey, girl.” I look up and see Skye walking from the back room. She has the wildest hairstyle. This week, one side is jet black and the other fire engine red, but she’s an amazing stylist. “I thought you left.”

“Nope,” I point at the computer screen. “I have paperwork still.”

“Are you okay? You seemed bummed out when you came back this evening.”

“Jordan and I are divorcing.” It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud to anyone.

“Oh, Heidi.” Skye’s face turns sad. “I’m sorry. Would you like to go out for a drink?”

I shake my head. “No, thanks. I’m going to finish this and head home.”

“Okay. Have a good night.”

I smile as Skye leaves, and I hear the front door close. I return to my task and don’t look up until I am done.

When I finally make it home, it hits me. This is really happening. I sit on the couch and think of my life with Jordan. He’s a great guy and very caring. I know he’ll find someone soon and they’ll love each other. Going to the divorce lawyer is the right thing to do. He told me since we didn’t have a prenup and have been separated for so long, an arbitrator is the best solution for us.

I forgot to tell Jordan the details of our appointment for Wednesday. I pick up my phone and text him the address and time I set up when I left him this afternoon.

 

Jordan: Fine.

 

At least he responds.

I walk aimlessly in a circle around the apartment until I end up at the fridge. I grab a bottle of water instead of the bottle of wine sitting on top of the counter. When I reach the front of the entertainment center, my arm reaches for the photo album.

Why do I hang onto it?

I carry it over to the couch and sit the bottle of water on the coffee table before I flip the book open. Happiness oozes off of the pages. Jordan’s brown eyes are bright with glee. I’m grinning like a fool and my hazel eyes are shiny. This picture was taken shortly after he proposed. I feel my lips turn up in a smile thinking of how he stammered over his words for a good minute before saying how much he loved me and asking for my hand. I still have the ring and I wonder if he’ll want it back when this is all over.

I turn the pages and see the times we traveled or visited a new city for baseball. Jordan has always liked to explore. I was fine with sitting by the poolside, but I’d go wherever he wanted to.

When I turn another page, I see the picture that started our downfall. It’s me holding a pregnancy stick and Jordan kissing my cheek.

Our baby.

Then begins the slow slideshow of my growing belly and all the joy it comes with. The final picture is of us when I’m in the beginning stages of labor. A bit of sweat is around my forehead and my hair’s a mess on top of my head.

The tears burn my cheeks and I slam the book shut. Today isn’t the day to reminisce.

 

 

“You want to come for a visit, Mom?” I throw more towels into the washing machine and the wet ones into the dryer. I swear we’re going through more towels at this salon and I’m going to have to have to buy more.

“Yes, Heidi. I think you need me there.”

I sigh. “You already have your plane ticket, don’t you?”

“Yes and I’m coming.”

“Then why did you ask?”

“I didn’t.” She laughs.

“Well,” I stop for a second. She didn’t ask. “When will you be here?”

“Tomorrow.”

I shake my head and start the washing machine. I’d expected her to say tonight. At least she gave me notice. “What time do I need to pick you up?”

“I’ll grab a cab and come to the salon. There’s no need to mess up your day. Love you.” She hangs up before I can insist on coming to get her.

I grab a broom and begin to help Skye clean up her station. Kassy is working on a customer’s nails and Colette is rearranging the products again. For some reason, she always has to make to them all straight. I think she has a bit of OCD in her.

When the last customer leaves, all the girls surround me. “What?” I ask.

“Skye told us everything.” Kassy, the hugger of the group, wraps me tight in her grip, and I can barely breathe. “We’re here for you.”

“I’m fine.” I gently push her off me so I can breathe. “I’m just fine.”

“I’d wish you would stop saying fine. I read in Glamour magazine it’s the first sign of depression,” Collette says.

“No, it’s not, and stop reading such crap.” Skye rolls her eyes. “Heidi, we’re here if you need anything.”

I smile. “Thanks, but I’m not depressed. Jordan and I have been putting this off long enough and he’ll come to terms with it soon.” I check the clock. “Now, go on because I need to close this place up.” I shoo them away, and they head for the door.

Once everyone is gone and I’m still sweeping, I start to wonder if this is how my new life is going to be. Me, alone.

 

 

I’m sitting in a semi-small conference room. There are only six chairs, and I’m pulling at my dress jacket as Mr. Armstrong, the arbitrator, and I wait for Jordan.

“He’ll be here.” I nervously smile. “I’m sure it’s something baseball related.”

Mr. Armstrong nods, but says nothing. He seems like an ass or maybe a jerk, but Mr. Love recommended him. After another moment, Jordan comes into the room.

“Mr. Johnson, I’m Mr. Armstrong and I’m glad you’re here now,” he slightly sneers at Jordan.

“I thought about not coming at all, but it’s still such a pleasure to meet you,” Jordan says sarcastically.

“Well, let’s see if I understand the reason for all this.” Mr. Armstrong shuffles a couple of papers. “Mrs. Johnson is filing for a divorce. There isn’t a prenup and there aren’t any children. So, it’s just division of property and money, correct?” He speaks in short, clear sentences.

“Yes, you’re correct,” I answer and look at Jordan

“Yes, it’s what she wants,” he derides.

“Mr. Johnson, you don’t agree?” Mr. Armstrong peers over his glasses at Jordan.

“No, because I don’t want a divorce.”

“I can see this is going to be a lot of fun.” Mr. Armstrong almost seems to roll his eyes.

“Excuse me, isn’t it your job to make this move more smoothly?” He’s beginning to piss me off.

“Yes. However, it makes my job a lot harder when there isn’t a starting point.” Now, he glares at me.

“Fine,” I state clearly. “I’ll make a starting point. I don’t want the house here in Memphis.”

“Mr. Johnson?” Mr. Armstrong looks over at him.

“I’ll probably end up selling it if we follow through with this.”

Jordan knows we’re going through this and he’s in denial if he thinks otherwise.

“Mrs. Johnson, do you want any of the profits from the sale?” Mr. Armstrong turns back to me.

“No. Jordan can keep the money.” It wasn’t home to me anyway.

“Okay. We can check the house off the list. Now, you have a vacation home in South Carolina. What do we want done with this?” He looks between Jordan and me.

I secretly wish I could keep it. It’s not too far from my family and it’s beautiful, but I don’t know if Jordan will let me have it.

“We can sell it,” I answer, trying not to get emotional about it.

“Mr. Johnson?” Mr. Armstrong waits for Jordan to answer.

Jordan’s staring at me, and I’m not sure if he’s angry or hurt. I’m guessing a bit of both. “I don’t want it and if she doesn’t want anything from the house here, she can have the money from that one if she wants to sell it.” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe we’re even doing this.”

“Jordan, we have to do this responsibly. We can’t divorce and not separate our stuff. We’ve been married for five years. We have a lot to talk about,” I try to reason with him.

“Yeah, about how to make it work, not how we’re going to divide what we own.”

“Let’s not do this. It’s not going to work out.” I’m firm in my words.

Jordan stands. “I’m not doing this. I’ve given you everything, Heidi. I can’t give you this too.” He starts to walk out.

“Mr. Johnson, why don’t we stop for today, and we can pick up next week?” Suddenly, Mr. Armstrong sounds reasonable. “Mrs. Johnson, are you okay with that?”

“Yes. I’m fine with it.” There’s the word again. Fine.

“Schedule another appointment if you want, I won’t be here for it.”

“You do realize Mrs. Johnson can take half of everything from you without much fight from the justice system?” Mr. Armstrong points out to him.

“I don’t care. She is all I want.”

“Jordan, please,” I plead with him. “Don’t make this harder on either of us. I don’t want to fight with you. We can come back next week.”

“That’s your problem, Heidi! You don’t want to fight! Not for us, not for me, and not for you. I’m not changing my mind!” He raises his voice and stares at me with a hard glare. It’s hurt he’s trying to hide. I’m hurting him.

“Jordan, if you really love me the way you keep proclaiming, then you know this is what I need right now. I need this, Jordan, and I need you to be onboard with me too. I can’t do it alone.” My voice cracks and I’m almost in tears. I want this to be quick for both of us.

“What you need is a divorce from me?” His voice is now softer and there’s so much pain laced in the words.

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Jordan’s eyes are still connected to mine. He’s thinking hard of a way to argue with me, but I know he’ll see it my way. “Okay, fine,” he answers.

“All right,” Mr. Armstrong finally speaks up. “Mr. Johnson, considering your schedule is not as flexible, are you able to come back on Tuesday?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll see you both on Tuesday morning then,” Mr. Armstrong dismisses us.

Jordan jerks the door open and rushes out. I thank Mr. Armstrong, grab my purse, and follow Jordan out the door. I want us to end on good terms. He’s almost to his car when I yell out for him.

“Jordan, hang on!” I don’t know what to say when he turns around and almost glares at me. “Um...Mom is coming into town today. She’d love to see you if you have time.”

“I know. She lands in two hours, right?”

“I don’t even know what time she’s coming in.” I shake my head. “I’m glad you’re still close to them. They love you so much.”

“At least they do,” he mumbles, but I still hear him. “Anyway, I’m having dinner with her tonight.”

“Oh, well...okay. I’ll see you on Tuesday then. Bye, Jordan.” I swivel on my heels to head to my car.

“You’re more than welcome to come with her, if you want, but if not, then Tuesday it is.”

“I have work to do,” I lie. “Enjoy your night.” I give him a small smile and rush off to my car.

 

 

Just as Jordan said, a little over two hours later, my mother appears in the salon. Her smile makes me feel better the second I see it, and I hug her tightly.

“I missed you, Mom.”

“I’m here now.” She pats my back lovingly. “Let’s catch up.”

We walk into my office, and I shut the door. “Well, I’m sure you’ve already talked to Jordan, so you know how today went.”

“Heidi, your father and I will always be close to Jordan whether you approve or not. He’s like a son to us.” Her tone isn’t mean, and I know she’s right.

“I’m glad he has you both right now because I want you to help me convince him this divorce is the right thing to do.”

Mom furrows her brow. “Absolutely not. I’ve stood by these past couple of years and watched you string Jordan along. He is right this time; you’re wrong.”

“Mom!” I gasp.

“No, Heidi. I’ve said nothing about your marriage, but Jordan loves you as much as you love him, and you’re letting your hurt and pain cloud your judgment. Now, you are my daughter, and I will have your back all the way into the pit of a fire, but I will not be quiet about it anymore.”

I look away from her for a moment. The tears are creeping up, but I push them down as hard as I can. “He said you two are having dinner.”

“Yes, this is his only free day this week. Now, are you ready to take me to your apartment?”

I nod. “We can catch up there.”

“I can’t wait.” She smiles and we head off to my car.

Once we make it to my place, I set Mom up in my room. I’m going to let her have my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch. I know most daughters would be upset with their parents if they were still talking to the ex-husbands, but I’m not. My parents loved Jordan the second they met him. Jordan’s parents are still around, but he’s not close to them, and he bonded with my parents almost immediately. Jordan really doesn’t have anyone and I’m not sure how close he is to anyone on the team. I’m glad he has my parents, and I know they’ll support him when he finds someone new.

Mom goes on and on about the latest gossip and soon she’s getting ready for Jordan to come get her.

“You can come, you know,” she urges me one more time.

“Nah, I’m fine.” Ugh, even I’m getting tired of the damn word.

“Okay. I’m going to meet him downstairs. I’ll see you later.” She kisses my cheek and then leaves.

I’m alone again.

***