The Break-Up Book Club by Wendy Wax

Author:Wendy Wax [Wax, Wendy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2021-05-18T00:00:00+00:00

Sara

Dorothy and I haven’t spoken much since she shut down the subject of elder abuse the other night. Neither of us has brought up the topic of Mitchell.

I’ve left several messages on Mitch’s cell phone, hoping that maybe we could discuss our next steps in some civilized manner, but while I’m angry that he hasn’t called back, I’m not incredibly surprised. My husband has always sidestepped, and apparently this is no exception. As if not talking about his secret life and family will somehow allow me to pretend that they don’t exist. If only. But I will never be able to unsee the sight of Mitch standing in the foyer of that Birmingham apartment with his son and the pregnant Margot at his side. It is imprinted in my brain forever. The caption reads: “My greatest wish denied and handed to another woman.”

He’s left me no choice but to act. Yesterday, I transferred $3,500 to Bonnie Traiman out of my savings account to cover her retainer so that she can get started. Then I took out another thousand in cash just so I wouldn’t feel as broke as I am.

I have always handled our money and paid our bills—or believed I did.

Now I live in fear that Mitch will halt the auto-deposit of his paychecks into our household account before Bonnie can file my petition for divorce or freeze our assets. The only thing that allows me to sleep at night is the knowledge that with Dorothy’s “rent” added to my paycheck, I can handle the mortgage payment and household expenses without him if I have to. At least for a while.

Late Saturday morning, I walk through the kitchen on my way to my afternoon shift at Between the Covers and find Dorothy sitting at the table staring out the window. Our copy of The Body: A Guide for Occupants lies open on the table. She’s already close to the end.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Her tone is polite but reserved. Though she rarely initiates conversation, she always responds.

“How’s the book?”

“Interesting,” she says. “But I never realized how much scientists and doctors don’t yet understand about how we work.”

“It looks like you’re almost done.”

She nods.

“Well, have a good day.”

“Thank you. You, too.”

As I turn to leave, I tell myself there’s no reason to feel bad about leaving Dorothy on her own. She’s a grown woman. I’ve offered to take her wherever she’d like to go, invited her to come with me when I run errands or go to the grocery store so that she can choose what she’d like in the house, but the only time she’s taken me up on an offer since Mitchell’s confession is to book club, and I practically had to drag her there. Evidence to the contrary, I am not my mother-in-law’s keeper.

I’m almost to the garage door when I turn. “Would you like me to bring back anything on my way home from work?”

“No. But thank you.” Her smile is polite, her answer precise.

“Okay.” I turn. A few more steps and I’m out of here.

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