Chapter 4

My phone alarm roused me. Reaching for it I silenced it and then swung my feet to the floor. Andrea put her arms around my waist. “Don’t leave,” she said.

“I need to go to my job,” I replied.

“Your alarm woke me in the middle of a delicious dream.”

“What dream?”

“Oh, it’s slipping away from me. I never can remember a dream ... it was about you and me and a little stone cottage with a garden...”

I rolled toward her and kissed her lips. “This is the Andie I used to know.”

“Mmm...” She kissed me again. “Last night was the attitude adjustment that I seriously needed. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Andie -- I really have to get up.”

I arose, slipped into sweatpants and a sweatshirt and filled a water bottle from the dispenser. This I took into the bathroom and used it to shave and brush my teeth.

“I washed your dress shirts,” she said as I removed one from the closet.

“I’ll drop a couple pairs of dress pants at the cleaner’s,” I replied. “Do you have anything to go?”

“No ... not at this time.”

I packed my work clothes in my duffel, slipped into my coat and dropped the duffel in the truck’s cab. As per my routine I stopped to check the gauges on the propane tanks; then I drove into town, parked in the lot adjacent to the office building and headed for the fitness center.

After a quick shower and change of clothes I headed to my desk, powered up my workstation and started reviewing my work queue.

Mid-morning my phone rang and I answered it.

Hi, it’s me.

“Andie -- what’s up?”

I just got a call from one Roger Middleton.

“Who’s he?” I asked.

He’s Ben’s attorney. He wants to meet me in his office tomorrow at ten.

“Did he say, about what?”

No, only to meet him at ten.

“Do I need to be there?”

No ... but I’d like it if you were.

“Hold on -- let me see if I can get the time off.” I pressed the hold button on the desk phone and stepped to Carla’s desk. “Carla -- I need some personal time off tomorrow morning.”

“More divorce stuff?” my boss asked.

“Yeah -- Andrea has been summoned to her husband’s attorney’s office. She wants me with her for moral support.”

“Go ahead.”

“Thanks, Carla.”

I went back to my desk, picked the phone and pressed the flashing line button. “Yeah, I can be there. Do you have the address?”

Yes...

“You can give it to me tonight and I’ll meet you there.”

Oh, thank you. I love you.

“I love you, too.”

I hung up the phone and returned to my workstation. Carla approached me. “Casey -- may I have a word in private?”

I followed her into a conference room and she closed the door. “Casey -- I understand what a distraction this all is for you. I want you to know I think the world of the job you do ... to the point of wishing I could clone you.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

“If any other meetings, hearings, whatever come up, go ahead and take the time. Just make sure I know about it -- send me an email, whatever. We’ll straighten out the time reporting later. I want you to get all this behind you.”

“You and me, both.”

“I wouldn’t grant such latitude to many on my team.”

“Thanks. Thanks for being understanding. By the way -- we have Andrea’s preliminary hearing scheduled for the day after tomorrow so...”

“Understood, Casey.”

I went back to my desk and busied myself with my work queue. After quitting time I drove to the post office to check our P. O. box and then swung by the cleaners to drop off two pairs of pants.

Back at the trailer I checked the propane gauges before heading inside. Andrea was in the kitchen. We embraced and kissed.

“I heard you drive up,” she said, “so I put a frozen pizza in the oven. I wasn’t up to anything more elaborate tonight.”

“That’s all right, after all you made for us last night.”

When the timer sounded she pulled the pan from the oven, cut it into slices and set plates on the table. I poured some red wine into glasses and we sat across from each other.

“How was work today?” she asked.

“Oh, the usual.”

“I know you work for an insurance company. I don’t think you ever told me what you do there.”

“I review claims as they come in,” I explained. “I look at what damage is being claimed and compare it to the policy details. If it’s covered, I pass it along to the adjusters, otherwise I queue it up for a rejection letter.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re using your degree.”

“I was a history major.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer work in your field?” she asked.

“I like my job just fine. The pay is good. I like my boss and I like the bunch I work with. What I like most is, it’s a job that doesn’t follow me home.”

Dinner finished, I powered up my laptop and my phone as a hotspot and checked my email. “Can you look at the TV listings?” Andrea asked. “There’s a program on the PBS channel on otters that I think is on tonight. I wanted to see it -- I love otters. They’re so cute.”

I checked the website. “It’s loading like a dog,” I remarked. “Yeah, at eight.”

“Okay.” Andrea used the remote control to switch on the flat-screen television. “Watch with me?”

“Sure. I like otters, too.”

I sat beside her on the sofa and she cuddled against me. “Casey ... I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I ... I got my period today. I wanted to let you know in case you had expectations at bedtime tonight.”

“I think we clipped each others horns pretty close last night,” I replied. “How long does it typically last?”

“The first two days are the worst. It starts to taper off after day three and I’m pretty much over it by day 5.”

“Do have everything you need? Tampons, pads ... Midol?”

“Yeah I have everything. I don’t take anything for it -- nothing seems to help.”

“Do you get cramping?” She nodded. “Are you having cramps now?”

“Uh-huh.” She kissed my cheek. “I love you. I love it that you care about my body.”

“Of course I care about you and your body.”

The program ended and we headed to bed. I stripped to my briefs and slid between the sheets. Andrea, also wearing only her briefs, slid in next to me and we cuddled. “This feels good,” she said.

“Does it alleviate the cramping?” I asked.

“No -- it makes me not mind them so much.”

The next morning found me driving the truck from my office to the address Andrea had given me. I parked in the lot and spotted my car in a stall near the building. Inside Andrea was waiting for me in the lobby. “Suite 208,” she said and we climbed a set of stairs to the second floor.

“I’m nervous,” she said. “I don’t know what this is about.”

“No matter what, I have your back.”

We walked through a door marked Roger Middleton and Associates and approached a receptionist.

“May I help you?” she asked.

“Andrea Drummond and Casey Rollins,” I replied.

“Ah ... Mrs Drummond -- you have a ten o’clock. Please come with me.”

“I’m with her,” I said.

“Mr Rollins -- you will have to wait out here.”

I sat in a chair in the waiting area, wondering WTF I was doing here. After about twenty minutes Andrea appeared from the back room. Together we headed for the lobby.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“He had me sign a paper. He said it was Ben’s price for cooperating in the divorce.”

“What paper?”

“It was all in legalese ... Roger explained that it declared the house, property and furnishings as belonging to Ben prior to our marriage and not community property. It also stipulated that, in the event of a divorce that I would receive three thousand a month in alimony, to be forfeited if I remarried, got engaged or co-habited.”

“Since we’ve been living together, it means no, nothing from him.”

“That’s right and it’s fine with me. I don’t want anything from him. All I want is out -- my freedom.”

And, that’s what the document gives you. I don’t understand the big deal.”

“Me, neither. I guess the rush is to have it for tomorrow’s hearing.”

We walked to the parking lot. “I can’t believe you drive that truck around town,” she said.

“It’s transportation. I’d let you drive it but it’s a stick.”

“I don’t want to drive it,” she retorted.

“My Uncle Floyd -- Dustin’s dad -- wants to buy it. Once we have all this behind us I’ll sell it to him for a couple grand and we’ll put the money toward a car you can drive.” I embraced her and kissed her. “See you tonight.”

I sat on a bench in the courtroom. Andrea and Bill, her attorney, were standing at a lectern. At another was a tall man with a goatee who I assumed was Roger Middleton. Ben Drummond was nowhere to be seen. Behind the bench was a gray-haired woman in a black judicial robe.

Bill presented affidavits to the effect that for the duration of her marriage Andrea had been a stay-at-home housewife with no outside income and only personal belongings. Then, the judge turned to Middleton.

He stepped forward and proffered a document, which the judge spent several minutes poring over.

“Mrs Drummond,” the judge said, “this document is an agreement in which Benjamin Drummond asserts his real property and assets were acquired prior to your marriage and not considered to be community property. It also sets alimony in the event of divorce, which you forfeit in the event of remarriage, engagement or cohabitation. Did you sign this agreement?”

“Yes, your honor,” she replied.

“Do you understand what this document agrees to?”

“I do, your honor. I don’t wish any compensation from Ben Drummond. I don’t want to be beholding to him. All I want is out ... my freedom, so I can marry the man I love.”

“You do realize, Mrs Drummond, that your share of community property and spousal support are not obligations on you. You’re not beholding to anyone. They are your rights, your entitlements according to our laws.”

“I understand,” Andrea replied. “What I said before stands -- all I want is a fresh start.”

“When you signed this document, were you represented by counsel?”

“No, your honor.”

“Well ... If I were your counsel I would’ve advised you not to sign it ... and not to go through with the ceremony.”

“Ceremony, your honor?” Andrea asked.

“Yes, your wedding, your marriage ceremony. This is a pre-nuptial agreement, signed, dated and acknowledged on April 20, 2008.”

“Your honor, I didn’t sign it in 2008. I signed it yesterday.” The judge held the document up. “That’s not what it looked like when I signed it. There wasn’t a place for a date, or for Ben’s signature ... or, a notary seal. Just a line for me to sign.”

“Why would you sign this?” the judge asked.

“I was told it was Ben’s price for his cooperation,” Andrea replied.

“Who told you that?”

Andrea pointed to Roger Middleton. “He did -- Mr Middleton. He called me into his office.”

“Mr Drummond wasn’t there?”

“No, your honor.”

“Nor a notary?”

“No.”

The judge turned to Middleton. “Mr Middleton -- would you explain how this document came to be?” Middleton stood there, flexing his jaw muscles. “Mr Middleton?”

“No, your honor -- not without violating client-counsel privilege.”

“Privilege.” The judge narrowed her eyes. “Then tell me whether what Mrs Drummond has related is substantially true or not. I’ll put you under oath if necessary.”

After a long pause, he answered, “Substantially true.”

“Could you repeat that? I’m having trouble hearing you.”

“Substantially true, your honor.”

“In that case, I rule this so-called prenup is unenforceable. Mr Middleton, are you prepared with the Mr Drummond’s required financial statements, tax returns and so on?”

“No, your honor.”

“I have grown weary of your delays and excuses, Mr Middleton. I order you to produce those documents. You have two weeks -- no excuses. Another delay and I’ll hold you and your client in contempt. We’ll schedule another hearing -- I’ll have the court clerk set a date.” She held up the document. “As for this -- I’ll be forwarding it to the state Bar Association. This session is adjourned.” She brought down her gavel.

I joined Andrea and Bill as we walked out of the courtroom. “That is the strangest preliminary hearing I’ve attended,” he said. “I’ve never seen that judge so angry. I suspect Roger Middleton is in considerable hot water. Judges take a dim view of attempting to defraud the court. I thought he would be smarted than to attempt a stunt like this.”

“Am I in any trouble?” Andrea asked.

“No, I can’t see how.”

“This just delays us ... again,” I remarked. “Another two weeks.”

“This will be wrapped up, one way or another by then.”

I had figured out how Andrea could run her hair dryer on high. The backup generator Dustin installed was one of the sort from a home center and rated at five thousand watts. Since the trailer used not more than five hundred, the generator had capacity to spare.

On Dustin’s electric panel the generator switch had three settings -- off, demand and continuous. I switched it to continuous and ran an extension cord from one of the spare outlets on the generator into the trailer and she plugged into it. It was a simple way for me to look like a hero and it was a significant improvement to her sense of self.

It was about a week after our preliminary hearing, and I was at my grind going through my work queue. On my screen I had subscribed to a local news headline ticker, courtesy of one of the television stations. A headline scooted by that caught my eye -- Drummond Imports Files for Bankruptcy. I backed up the ticker and opened the headline: Local importer Drummond Imports files for Chapter Eleven bankruptcy -- details at five.

I picked up the phone and punched in Andrea’s cell number. It rang and she answered.

“Andie! If I’m not there in time, make sure you watch the five o’clock news on channel eight.”

Why? What is it?

“News headline says Ben Drummond’s business is filing for bankruptcy.”

Wow ... wow ... I’ll make sure to tune in..

By the end of my stint, my queue was empty and I sneaked out a few minutes early in an attempt to get home before the news, only to be caught in a traffic jam due to an overturned tractor-trailer.

When I finally arrived at Dustin’s camper the news was wrapping up. “Did you see it?” I asked Andrea.

“Yes. Also Bill called with the news. He thinks the real reason behind all the delays and foot-dragging was that Ben didn’t want his finances scrutinized.”

“Hence that Hail Mary dodge with the phony prenup. I think if you hadn’t spoken up that judge would’ve accepted it.”

“My divorce filing kind of let the cat out of the bag. Apparently he owes more on the house than the house is worth ... Ben’s net worth is negative.”

“It figures,” I replied. “When I repossessed that sectional it was plain to me he had no real interest in you.”

“Bill also said he’s seen this sort of thing happen before. He said there was a case where a divorce proceeding threatened to reveal the husband -- a doctor -- was running an illegal opioid pill mill. The doctor engaged a member of a motorcycle gang to assassinate his wife.”

“No matter what I think of Ben as a person, I don’t think he has that in him. How does this impact your hearing next week?”

“He said it both complicates it and simplifies it. He’ll propose to let the divorce proceed -- which starts my four-month waiting period -- and at the same time add me to Ben’s list of creditors to be settled by the bankruptcy judge. He said it’s a good thing I don’t have an outside income -- otherwise, based on the formulas, I might have ended up owing Ben alimony.”

“So, finally a light at the end of the tunnel,” I remarked.

“Keeping eyes on the prize,” she added.

A week later at our re-convened hearing, a chastened Roger Midland conceded to everything Bill proposed. With the clock running on Andrea’s waiting period, the next step would be a formality. In four months she would be an unmarried woman. I had about a month’s head start on her and both Sarah and I couldn’t wait to get it over with.

The very next day I was back at the trailer earlier than normal. I walked in, startling Andrea. “You’re home early,” she remarked. “I hope nothing’s wrong.”

“I have something to show you.” Reaching into my coat pocket I retrieved an envelope. From the envelope I removed a slip of paper and handed it to her.

She regarded it and her jaw dropped. “A cashier’s check for one hundred ten thousand dollars,” she said.

“For my share of the equity in the house. Paul accepted the cash offer for his place from the house flipper. I just got back from the closing on my old place. The house is now in Sarah’s and Paul’s names, and the mortgage comes out of his bank account -- not mine.”

Andrea jumped up. I caught her and she wrapped her legs around my hips and I cradled her under her buttocks. We began kissing each other. “Tomorrow we have a busy day,” I said between kisses. “First, we’re out of the trailer. I drop off the keys at my Uncle Floyd’s place and pick up a check for two grand for the truck. Then we deposit the two checks in my bank account. Tomorrow night we celebrate.”

“Oooh ... I love celebrations.”

“I have a room reserved and dinner reservations. I’m taking a week off so we can find an apartment and a car for you to drive.” We kissed a long, lingering one. “Tomorrow is the first day of our wonderful new life together.”

She began brushing tears from her face. “Casey -- I remember the night we ran off together ... I was afraid you wouldn’t come back to me ... but you did and you said everything would be okay. There were times I thought, no -- it’s not going to be okay ... it’ll never be okay. Now I know it will be.”