Chapter 20: Decree

The decree came on the first of March, in a long envelope, and it was two pages.

The first page said I was divorced.

The second page was a notice about parking validation at the courthouse.

I read both at the yellow table with my coat still on and waited for something large.

What I felt was that the kitchen was very quiet, and then that I was hungry.

"Congratulations," said the neighbor, and set a pie on the table.

"Or condolences," she added. "I didn't know which, so I made lemon. It works for either."

Gene read the decree upside down, from across the table, with one eyebrow up.

"Keep the name," said his voice. "It was on the deed."

"It's my married name."

"It is a good name," said the voice. "Two of us have worn it well."

The neighbor cut the pie into four wedges.

Neil had come straight from his new clinic with sawdust on his sleeve, and he took the biggest wedge without being offered.

At a quarter to six there was a step on the ramp.

I knew it was Craig before the knock.

I want to say that I was calm, but my fork was making small noises against my plate.

He stood on the porch in a jacket that was too big for him now, with his hands at his sides.

He had lost weight, and there was no smile at all.

"Hi, Jen."

"Craig."

"I know I'm not invited."

"You're not."

"I'm not here to ask anything about us."

He took a creased piece of paper out of his jacket pocket. "I wanted to ask about this."

It was the laminated schedule.

Tressa's grid, with the clip-art sunrise in the corner, folded in quarters until the lamination had cracked along the creases.