THERE’S A GLASS of wine in one hand and the picture in the other. It’s the two of us on the beach. It was taken right after we signed the papers for the vacation house. I can’t even describe how happy we look. Bright smiles, gleaming eyes, wind blown hair, and it’s all perfect.
“What are you doing?”
I turn to see Mom standing in the kitchen.
“Jordan.” It’s all I can get out. I hand her the picture and take another large gulp of wine.
“He loves you.” She hands it back to me.
“I don’t love him anymore.”
“Heidi, you’re lying.” Mom stares at me. “You need to realize he only wants to help you.”
“He wants kids!” I abruptly yell. “He wants more kids. He wants to put me through all that heartache and pain again.” I drop my head in my hands and sob into them.
I feel Mom’s arms awkwardly hug me; she can’t wrap her arms around me because I’m still in the kitchen chair. She strokes my hair and repeats over and over that I’ll be okay.
When the doctor told us Eden was stillborn, my heart shattered into a million pieces and it will never be repaired. About two months later, Jordan began talking about having more kids and I couldn’t bear the thought. I can’t go through it again. I can’t, and I won’t do it.
“Heidi, have you eaten today?” Mom asks once I calm down a bit.
“I’m not hungry.” I reach for my wine, but she takes it away from me. “What are you doing?”
“Wash your face. Get cleaned up. We’re going out. Now.” Her short, commanding sentences mean I’m not going to argue. I do as she told me.
When I come back from the bathroom, Mom is standing by the door, purse on her shoulder, and she’s holding my purse out. I take the bag from her hand and follow her out the door.
“Where are we going?”
“Out.” She has my car keys in her hands.
“Do you even know where you’re going?”
Mom glares at me for a second. “I know how to work a GPS. However, it’s unnecessary right now because I know how to get to the airport.”
“Airport?”
“Your dad is landing soon.”
“I’m surprised he waited this long.” I giggle.
Mom smiles. “He misses you too.”
I nod as Mom drives off toward the interstate and heads to the airport.
On the drive, I mainly stare out the window and when we finally pick up Dad, they talk more to each other than to me. It’s fine. I know they haven’t seen each other for almost a week. They don’t tend to be away from each other for long periods of time.
It’s love that keeps them together.
It’s a love I want to have one day. I thought it was there with Jordan, but he’s constantly talking about babies and having a family; it’s something I’m not ready for. When I became pregnant, it was everything I wanted at the time. Now, it’s not.
I have the salon. I have my own goals and aspirations. I could open more salons or become a modern day Elizabeth Arden or a female Paul Mitchell. Hell, I can be anything because I’m not tied down with a husband and kids. I did want a husband and kids, but not anymore. I haven’t gotten over Eden’s death yet, but I know what I need to carry on and that’s to think about me.
Dad demands we go to a steakhouse and I give directions to Mom to the nearest one. Dad rattles on about how hungry he is. I’m thankful the place isn’t busy because Dad is still moaning about food.
After the waiter takes our order and brings us our drinks, Dad turns to me and jumps right in. “Why are you going through with this dumbass idea?”
“What?” I sit my water down.
“This divorce thing, or whatever you’re doing to Jordan.”
I roll my eyes. “Dad, I know how much you and Mom care about Jordan and I love that about you because he needs family. However, I’m not doing anything to him. This has been coming for a long time, and I finally made the first move.”
“He loves you,” Dad says.
“And you love him,” Mom jumps in.
I sigh. I can’t have this conversation for the hundredth time. “I care for Jordan. He will always have a special place in my heart, but we’re divorcing. There’s no need to continue talking about it or trying to get me to change my mind. It’s happening and this is over!” I realize I raised my voice and catch a glance from the table next to us. “Sorry.” I politely smile.
Mom gently grips my hand. “We just want to see you happy. Both of you.” Her tone is soft and caring for and not just for me, but Jordan as well.
“Let’s not talk about it.” I put back on a big smile. “Dad, tell me about your latest golf outing.”
I turn the attention away from me, and the rest of the night is much more relaxing. And there’s no more talk of Jordan.
“Now, we’re moving onto the cars.” Mr. Armstrong clicks his pen a few times before heading down the list. “The Honda CR-V, who is keeping this one?”
“I am,” I answer quickly. “I mean I’d like to because I use it the most.”
“Mr. Johnson?” Mr. Armstrong asks in his normal stern voice.
“Yes, she can have it.” He glances at me, but I try to avoid the hurt in his eyes. All there seems to be is pain. I know he’ll find someone to erase the hurt I’ve caused him.
“All right. The Silverado?” Mr. Armstrong ticks another on the list on his paper.
“That’s Jordan’s truck. It’s his to keep,” I answer for Jordan.
“Okay. Then we have a 1969 Ford Mustang.”
“It’s Jordan and my dad’s.” I smile at the memories. Jordan and my dad bonded over old junky cars. In the years we’ve been together, they’ve fixed up several of them. It’s their hobby.
“I’d liked to keep it, Heidi,” Jordan says.
“Of course. I wouldn’t take it from you.”
“Okay, the Ford is Mr. Johnson’s. Then there is...wow.” For the first time, Mr. Armstrong shows a real emotion other than his sternness. “1950 Cadillac Coupe Deville. Really?” His eyes are wide.
“Yes. Sam, Heidi’s dad, and I are working on it this year.”
“Now that’s a nice car.” Mr. Armstrong composes himself and looks at me. “Mrs. Johnson?”
“It’s Jordan’s.” I nod.
“Moving on, then.” Mr. Armstrong scratches a few notes and I can feel Jordan staring at me, but I don’t look up at him. “We will move on to the biggest and argumentative part of this. Money and cash.” He sighs and clicks his pen again. “Let’s start with the checking account. There’s one joint and then Mrs. Johnson has her own.”
“That one is for the business,” I inform him.
“There is not a business name on it, and even if it did, you’re still bound to disclose it to Mr. Johnson,” he cuts right back at me.
“She can keep the account and the money in it. I’m not taking it.”
“Well,” Mr. Armstrong quickly writes down a few notes. “Here’s the big issue. Mr. Johnson, you’re currently worth ten million dollars and Mrs. Johnson, even with the business, only forty thousand.” I feel like dirt when he says my number in his tone. “This entitles Mrs. Johnson to alimony.”
“Okay,” Jordan says without Mr. Armstrong even telling him how much I’d get.
“No. No. No,” I repeat over and over, shaking my head. “I don’t want it.”
“You’re taking it.” Jordan narrows his eyes at me.
“I’m not taking your money. I have my business and my own account; I’m fine.” I glare at him.
“All right. All right.” Mr. Armstrong holds up his hands. “Let’s try this. Mr. Johnson, why don’t you give Mrs. Johnson a one-time settlement payment of one million dollars and there won’t have to be any alimony.”
“Done.” Jordan nods at the same time I say, “No.”
“Heidi, take the money. You want this divorce, so you are taking this money. Open more salons or invest it; I don’t care, but I need to know you’re taken care of.” Jordan voice isn’t mean. It’s firm and tight.
I hate to think of how the money could really elevate Above A Dream, but I push the thought out of my head. I can’t use Jordan’s money to make my business. I received the loan for the salon on my own. But could I get another? Even with the salon doing well, the majority of the profits go right back into the business. It could be a safe cushion for me.
“Okay.” The guilt hits me for taking his money to use on myself.
“Then we’re done,” Mr. Armstrong announces.
“What?” Jordan and I say at the same time.
“There aren’t any more assets; everything seems to be in order.” He gathers his papers.
“What happens next?” I hear my voice crack with the question.
“Well, I send everything to your attorney, Mrs. Johnson, since he’s the one who requested me, and then they’ll draw up the papers. Usually it takes about a month to ensure no other assets or liabilities arise. Then you both will sign and go on with your lives.”
I turn my eyes toward Jordan and he’s between crying and bashing the table with baseball bat. My heart is racing. This is real. I did this and now it’s time to own it. I wanted it, right? And here it is. Jordan quickly rises to his feet, almost knocking over the chair, and races out the door.
I glance at Mr. Armstrong, and he’s staring down at me from his standing position. “I’ve done this for many years, Mrs. Johnson. I’ve never had one go so smoothly. Do you know why this one did?”
I shake my head.
“Because you’re both still in love.” He locks his briefcase and leaves me alone in the conference room.
***