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“I talked to her about it this morning,” he told herimpatiently. “She’s agreed. There won’t be any problem.”
Lesley went still. “I know this was difficult for you, Jordan.”
She didn’t have a clue, but surprisingly neither had he. A divorce seemed the natural progression for him and Molly. It was the right thing to do, but Jordan hadn’t expected the bad feelings that came over him when he told her he planned to formally end their marriage.
“Are you having second thoughts?”
Lesley had a way of reading him that was sometimes unnerving. Was he? “No,” he said without a pause. The time for second thoughts was over. “I want the divorce.”
* * *
Michael Rife wasn’t keen on divorce cases. He took them occasionally, generally for a change of pace. He’d met with Jordan Larabee three or four times now and his client had assured him this was a friendly divorce. There was no such thing, but Michael didn’t see the point of saying so. Larabee and his wife would discover that soon enough on their own, he suspected.
From what Michael understood, Mrs. Larabee had yet to retain an attorney, and had indicated she saw no need to do so. Apparently she’d read the agreement he’d drawn up and was satisfied with the settlement offer her husband had proposed.
That in itself was highly unusual, but then very little about this divorce was typical. Larabee had bent over backward to make this as easy for his wife as possible. Frankly, Michael couldn’t help wondering what had gone wrong in their marriage.
His intercom beeped, and his secretary said, “The Larabees are here to see you.”
Michael stood when the couple entered. He exchanged a handshake with Jordan, and everyone was seated. Michael studied Larabee’s wife. She was attractive, a bit too thin and fragile-looking. But appearances were often deceiving. A delicate woman wouldn’t have spent the past two years as a nurse in an unstable and poverty-ridden African country.
Michael picked up the file and asked Molly, “You’ve had the opportunity to read the settlement offer?”
“Yes, I have,” she answered quietly. “And I found Jordan to be more than generous.”
“It’s highly unusual for you not to have an attorney look this over on your behalf,” Michael felt obliged to explain. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with this aspect of the divorce.
“I don’t see why. There’s nothing here I take exception to, and I see no reason to prolong this.”
“As long as you understand the terms of the settlement.”
“Everything is perfectly clear to me.”
Larabee was unusually quiet. “He’s right, Molly. It might be a good idea if you had your own attorney look at it.”
“If that’s what you want, but I don’t see why. You want your freedom, and that’s reasonable. You’ve waited long enough.”
Larabee crossed his legs in what seemed a nervous movement. “I don’t want you to feel that I’ve cheated you in any way.”
“That’s the last thing I’m worried about. You’vebeen very generous. Why don’t we leave matters as they are?”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
Michael couldn’t remember any couple who were so caring toward each other about the details of a divorce. He flipped through the file again, hoping for some indication of what had gone wrong between two decent people.
“There are no children involved,” he muttered to himself, although he already knew this.
“No children,” Jordan repeated.
“There was a child,” Mrs. Larabee added, and Michael swore the color of her eyes changed when she spoke. When she walked in the door, he’d been struck by their clear shade of blue, but when she mentioned the child, they darkened. “A son…he died of SIDS. His name was Jeffrey.”
Jordan hadn’t spoken of this before, and he said nothing now.
Michael made a notation in the file. It was all coming together. The divorce wasn’t based on the usual grounds of irreconcilable differences, a couple having grown apart or infidelity. It was rooted in grief.
“Did you need me to sign something?” Molly Larabee asked, breaking into his thoughts. She sounded eager, wanting this over as quickly as possible.
