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“Your father certainly is.”
She tries to hide the hurt on her face but fails miserably, and I wonder what that’s about. Most future lawyers would kill to have Preston Mitchell for a father.
We sit in silence for a few moments, and just as I go to change the subject I feel the chill in the air that could only be brought about by the ice queen. The Wicked Witch of New Haven that is nine times out of ten the cause for my loss of appetite or the need for hard liquor. What the hell is she doing here? Jana West struts through the small deli like she owns it. Sunglasses still sitting on her face, and her shiny blonde bob chopped right under her angular chin. Her lips are painted her signature red—a red that used to make me painfully hard, but now has the power to make me flaccid within seconds. Dressed to the nines as always, she stops at our table, not even bothering to acknowledge Serena’s presence.
“I went by your office. Your secretary said you came here with some new girl.” She finally turns to look at Serena and as she slides her sunglasses to the top of her head, shoots icy blue daggers at her. “A little young for you, don’t you think?” she sneers.
“Out,” I grit at her as I point her towards the door. “Serena, wait here.” I use a very different voice with her; though it’s still authoritative, it’s softer and calmer than the tone I plan to take with Jana. We step outside and she snorts before crossing her arms in front of her.
“Really Landon? What, is she twelve?”
“It’s Preston’s daughter, Jana. He’s in court and she hasn’t eaten. Why the fuck do you care?” I start to make a jab about her being jealous, but I don’t want to open that door over what she’d have to be jealous over.
“Because you’re looking at her like she’s on the menu.”
“You’re delusional, which I know.” I look towards the street before pinching the bridge of my nose. “What do you want?” I’m vaguely aware of the vibration against my chest indicating that my phone is ringing. Probably people wondering where the fuck I am, as I don’t usually leave the office for lunch despite what I told Serena.
“I wanted to make sure you were still taking Griff on Friday and keeping him for the weekend? He has to be at community service at nine AM Saturday.”
I never forgot things when it came to Griff, that was more Jana’s M.O. “You couldn’t have called me to tell me that?”
“You only take calls from my fucking lawyer.”
“You’d think you’d get the hint,” I snap.
In the beginning of the divorce, I tried my best to be cordial. Jana wanted to leave and I made no effort to stop her. We didn’t have what one would call a particularly passionate marriage after a certain point. Jana wanted nice things and I gave them to her. And one day, when the bags and fancy trips weren’t enough to keep her happy, I came home to find a note saying she wanted a divorce and that I needed to move out.
I had turned around and gone back to the office to work through the night.
I hadn’t even attempted to reconcile.
I loved Jana deeply in the beginning, but my love for her crumbled under the weight of the year-long affair she’d had a few years ago. When I first learned that she’d been sleeping with our neighbor three times a week, I was irate, devastated and was soaking my liver in whiskey every night. But I wanted to work it out. I tried to ignore my insecurities and jealousy, but I couldn’t shake it. I couldn’t trust her. Maybe a part of me never did. Unfortunately for me, she hadn’t signed a prenup and frankly the thought of a divorce while I was on the precipice of making partner sounded financially and physically exhausting.
And so, I just checked out.
Now, she’s leaving me but, to be honest, I’m not all that interested in having her stay.
Griffin knows nothing of the affair, and I plan to keep it that way. I don’t want to ruin his perception of his mother, whom until recently, I still respected. Jana, however, doesn’t feel the same way. I was hoping for a polite and quiet divorce where she got what she wanted and I got her the fuck out of my life, but Jana is using our divorce as an excuse to drag my name through the mud to our son and anyone who would listen.
I have always been there for Griff. And she knows it. He is the center of my universe. I’ve never missed one of his football or baseball games, never missed a parent-teacher conference, and certainly never left him stranded at school because my Swedish massage ran late. I’d walked out of a deposition upon hearing about that. Nevertheless, she’d turned Griffin against me, feeding him lies about my alleged infidelity, when actually she’d been the one who’d been unfaithful. That was when the gloves came off.
“I’m going to be in Miami, and I don’t want him home by himself. He’s sixteen and after this shit with this DUI that you can’t seem to make disappear…”
“He hit another car, Jana. While someone was in it,” I grit out. It wasn’t as easy as making it go away when there were witnesses and police reports and a trip to the goddamn ER. The woman was fine, and thankfully Griffin wasn’t going fast enough to do much damage to her car, but the damage to his life had already been done. At this point, the best I can do is get it expunged from his record when he turns eighteen.
“What’s the point of having a father that’s an attorney? You’d think this was the one thing you could do for him.” She rolls her eyes and I resist the urge to get into it with her on the sidewalk in broad daylight like I hadn’t single-handedly raised him myself the last five years.
“Are you fucking serious right now, J?” I hate myself for using my nickname for her, but Freudian slip or whatever.
“Nine thirty, do not be late. My flight is at noon.”
“Whatever.” I shake my head. She begins to walk away towards her shiny new Audi, that she’d purchased just before she filed for divorce when she stops in her tracks and turns around.
“Oh, I faxed over my latest revisions.”
My blood boils. She was already getting more than enough considering the circumstances. “The fuck, Jana, what now?”
“I want the house in the Hamptons.”
