Chapter Twenty-Five

BENNIE WAS EARLY FOR her appointment with the attorney, so she had the taxi driver drop her in front of the arch where Fifth Avenue dead ended at Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village. The weather was beautiful, not yet deep enough into summer to bring oppressive heat and humidity to the city. She strolled into the park and stood watching children, many of them around Livie’s age, splashing in the fountain while their mothers reclined around the fountain’s edge and chatted with one another. Two old men sat at a chess board, deep in concentration, as a teenage boy watched.

She checked the time and walked west along the street bordering the north edge of the park until she stood in front of a red brick, three story townhouse. She checked the name and address on the slip of paper her father handed her just three days ago in his study in Portland. August Mapes, 26 Washington Square North. The building wasn’t anything like the concrete and steel high-rise on Wall Street where she and Will met with his attorney. She climbed the steps and noticed a brass plate beside the front door with the simple legend, August Mapes, Attorney at Law, assuring her she was in the right place.

The door opened to a small foyer and to the right was a reception and waiting area which, in the nineteenth century, was originally a formal parlor. An efficient appearing secretary looked up from her typewriter.

“Mrs. Grant?”

“Yes.”

“Please be seated and we’ll be with you in just a moment.”

Bennie leafed through a magazine without really focusing. She was too nervous to concentrate. After a few minutes, she heard a door open across the foyer. A woman strode into the waiting room. She was tall and slim and wore a tailored suit with a starched white cotton blouse. Her hair and eyes were a rich shade of brown that on a fine piece of furniture would be called mahogany, and there was grey at the temples which the woman made no effort to hide.

“Mrs. Grant, I’m August Mapes,” she said as she shook hands with Bennie. “This way, please.”

Without waiting for a reply from Bennie, she headed across the foyer to her office. When they were seated, she opened a file that sat next to her phone.

“Sorry for the wait. I was speaking with your husband’s attorney.” Even though the file was upside down to her, Bennie could see that it contained the divorce papers with August’s neat handwritten notes in the margins. “Now, Mrs. Grant, before we get into the details of your case, let’s start with any questions you have for me.”

“You’re a woman,” Bennie blurted out. The comment was so incongruous that both Bennie and August laughed.

“Yes, I am. The name threw you off. I get that often.” Miss Mapes gestured to the framed diploma on the wall behind her. “If you want to know my qualifications, I graduated first in my class at Yale, was Law Review there for my last two years, and before coming out on my own, I was an associate at Shearman and Sterling.”

“Why did you decide to go on your own?”

“I graduated law school and passed the New York bar when our country was getting into the war in earnest. Pearl Harbor happened, and all the men went off to serve, and so the law firms had no choice but to hire women. When the partners at Shearman made it abundantly clear that there was no promotion in my future, I left. It’s worked out for the best. I like being my own boss. Anything else?”

“Can you help me fight for custody of my daughter?”

“I believe I can. Your husband is taking a radical step asking that a little girl be kept away from her mother. His attorney is making some veiled allusions to a morals argument. Perhaps you can fill me in on the details. I’ll be better able to give you an answer to what our approach might be. The grounds in the divorce filing is adultery. Does your husband have evidence of you having relations with someone outside your marriage?”

“Yes.” Bennie tried to settle more comfortably into her chair, anticipating this could be a long and difficult conversation.

“What evidence?” August’s eyes were focused on the pen she held over a yellow legal tablet as she asked this question, and she didn’t look up. Bennie was glad that August was trying to approach the questions as discreetly as possible.

“I told him. It was foolish I know, but he was badgering me about why I wanted a divorce.”

“Does he know whom you had the relationship with?” August looked up at her.

“Yes, I told him that too. It was my best friend.” Bennie hesitated. “A woman.”

August nodded. She set her pen on the desk lining it carefully up with the edge of the tablet. She listened without interrupting as Bennie told of her unhappiness in the marriage and of her affair with Alice.

“And you’re not involved with her now?” August asked.

“Not in that way, but she remains my best friend. I was visiting her in San Francisco when Will filed for divorce.”

“Was she ever around your daughter?”

“Of course. She was at the hospital when Livie was born and has always been part of our lives. Livie loves her like an aunt.”

August picked up the pen and again began to make notes on the legal pad. “Are you involved with anyone now?”

Bennie wasn’t sure how to answer that question. She could say no since she and Laura had not been intimate since that day at the country club, but if Will found out about Laura and that they were in California together, he could use it against her in court and blindside her attorney. She settled on a half answer.

“Not exactly involved, but there is a woman that I’m interested in.”

August nodded. “I see. Does your husband know about your interest in this other person?”

Bennie shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

The lawyer asked Bennie about the details of her marriage to Will. Were there arguments? Was there ever physical violence? Did Livie see or hear her parents argue? She asked about the year they were separated. Why did Bennie agree to Livie’s staying with Will at his mother’s? How often did she visit Livie? She also asked about her financial situation, where she was living, and whether she had a job.

The more questions August asked, the more Bennie’s spirits sank. She saw how the path she had taken, trying to placate Will and get him to agree to an amicable divorce and to share custody of Livie, would appear as though she was shirking her responsibilities as a mother.

“Mrs. Grant, would you like some water or some tea?”

Bennie looked up. August’s face was lined with concern.

“No, I’m…it seems so hopeless when I hear myself try and explain things.”

“It’s not hopeless,” August said. “I can begin to see a way forward. Let’s stop for today. You and I both have homework. I’ll prepare a response to the divorce papers. It’s pretty routine. I’ll ask for a month’s continuance, which gives us about five weeks to get up to speed. Your husband has asked for you to be prohibited from contacting your daughter until the hearing. I believe our response can successfully argue that’s unduly harsh, though frankly, the more unreasonable he sounds, the better for us. In the meantime, you need to find a permanent place to live and a job. We need to be able to show that you have a plan for the future with your daughter. You should not see this woman that you’re interested in. Your husband may be having you followed. And do not contact your friend in California.”

Bennie wondered how she would live through the next few weeks without Alice’s support and not talking to Laura.

August reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a business card and placed it on the desk in front of Bennie.

“This next part is difficult, and what you choose to do is entirely up to you. This is the name and number of a psychiatrist. You may want to start seeing her during the time before the hearing, both for support and because the judge will view it as evidence that you are working on your problem, as he may see it.”

Bennie was stunned. “You’re saying that in order to be a part of my daughter’s life I have to pretend to be working on curing myself from some mental disease.”

“Believe me, I understand your reaction. I’m trying to offer you my best advice on our building the strongest case. As I said, it’s entirely your choice.”

Bennie picked up the card and, after looking at it for a moment, dropped it in her purse.