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She ushers us to a small meeting table off to the side of her office. My mom and I take two chairs along one side. Ms. Cane takes a chair at the head of the table and spreads a folder open on the table.
“I think we should start with a discussion of your circumstances while the marriage was still intact,” she says, looking my mom in the eye. “Did you work outside the home?”
The corner of my mom's mouth turns down. She looks at her hands in her lap, then back up at the lawyer. “No, I didn't. I tried to get a job a couple of times, but it never panned out.”
It never panned out because my father didn't want her out of the house. Whenever she would leave, he'd find ways to get her to come back, and then it was her job to put things back together at home. I told her he did it on purpose, but she defended him. She didn’t want to see it, or she couldn’t admit it. Admitting something like that would have a domino effect. Once one truth is out, they all escape. I know it’s hard to face and it’s easier to just not believe it. It’s so much easier to just make an excuse.
My mom answers more questions about her life with John, my father. I've heard most of it before and all the while I hold her hand. I stay quiet and try to stay steady.
As she talks about different things that have happened, I remember Griffin this morning.
How Griffin was this morning. He let me sleep and went downstairs to make breakfast. He didn't seem upset with me even once on the drive to my place. The last thing he said to me when I got out of the car was are you sure you don't need a ride to your appointment? I really don't mind driving you, and when I said no, he said text me when you're there safe.
I wonder how long that would last. I wonder if it’s genuine. I wonder if once I fall for him, will he change?
Cause I don’t know what the switch was exactly, but my father used to act like he loved her. I remember as a child thinking they loved each other and looking up to them.
He used to take care of her. And my mother admits it to the lawyer all the while I have to sit there, wondering what happened. What changed? How did that man I used to love turn into the person he is now? Or was he just really good at hiding from the very beginning?
The last year I was around them I watched him manipulate her and make her promises that were clearly lies, but he never seemed to worry about her, except when he was worried that she wouldn't go along with what he said. The look in Griffin’s eyes this morning…I’ve never seen that from John.
The worst part was how my father would apologize. I never thought he meant it, but he said it so many times that it was easier for my mom to agree with him. And then there were me, the lack of money or a savings account, and how hard it was for her to find work. She always went back, no matter how many times he yelled at her or hit her or how terrible he was. It got progressively worse when I moved out. I didn’t realize just how bad it was until two years ago and the moment I said it out loud, all the pieces fell. I couldn’t put them back into place. They fell and I saw clearly for the first time. Every little thing I’d noticed before but I’d made excuses for, screamed back at me: I told you so!
My mother continues to answer questions, and her even and strong tone brings me back to the present.
Tears burn my eyes thinking about how much my mom deserves a man who actually cares. I wipe them away as subtly as I can and square my shoulders.
I clear my head and focus back on the conversation. The lawyer is professional and warm, but from the expression on her face, there's not much in my mom's case that's going to make it easy for her.
“I'll be straightforward with you,” the lawyer says, closing the folder and folding her hands on top of it. “This is the kind of case that can take years if the other party is determined to drag his feet. It’s costly, and without funds to split there are only so many motions we can file in order to help you until settlement.”
“Wait, she should have half right now, shouldn’t she?” The shock in my tone is undeniable. If he has money to spend, she should also. “He can’t just turn off her cards and not pay a consequence for financial abuse.” My voice is harsh and as the lawyer looks back at me with what seems like sympathy, I realize I don’t know a damn thing about actual legal proceedings.
“We can file motions to freeze accounts and file for an audit; there’s a lot we can do,” the lawyer says and then corrects herself, “there’s a lot we will do. There’s a way for this, but what I’m saying is that currently I cannot say with certainty how much you are entitled to or what is even available or when this would all end.”
My mother is silent, and I reach for her hand as the lawyer continues. “And I'm certainly not suggesting that you disregard what you want out of the settlement. I do want to be clear that because the house is in his name and he can show that he owned the property before you were married, he might be able to make the argument that the house should be considered his property. Were there any other assets you had in your name that you can think of? Any other properties or vehicles?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my mom's shoulders slump, but she straightens up right away.
“I didn't have any vehicles in my name,” she says. “He might have other properties, but if he does, I don't know anything about them.”
“We can look into it.” The lawyer writes something down on a notepad. “It's important to me that you decide on a course of action that's best for you. If your first priority is to dissolve the marriage and start setting up a life that's unconnected to your ex, then that might ultimately mean walking away from discussions about the property.”
“Because he'll want to fight,” my mom says softly.
“Unfortunately, it's a tactic that's often used in contentious divorces,” the lawyer says. There's real sympathy in her eyes. I believe her when she says it's unfortunate. I have to think she's seen situations like my mom's before. “Some people are more interested in punishing the other party than they are in moving on from the case.”
Anger swells up in my chest. It's hot and overwhelming. For some reason, it's worse that the lawyer is describing this in such professional terms. I know it's her job to stay calm and distance herself from the emotions of the case so that she can make objective decisions, but I want her to be angrier about this, too.
“She was a stay-at-home mom for years. And she stayed at home because he wanted her to,” I press.
“I understand, and I will do everything I can to make sure your mother receives alimony, but it is up to the discretion of the judge,” she warns. “And it will take time.”
“So she’s just screwed until…when?” I ask, defeated and angry. “No money to live on while fighting a man who’s going to use the legal system to abuse her more.”
“Renee,” my mom says, disapproving.
“That's what you mean,” I tell the lawyer. “That's what abusers do.”
