Chapter 12: Thirty Days

It took a judge four minutes to end my mother's marriage.

She had filed on the fifteenth of September, and the law had made her wait thirty days.

This was the fifteenth of October, a Thursday, in a courtroom on the fourth floor of the county building.

My mother wore her church coat and held her purse in both hands.

Gunnar did not come.

His lawyer signed for him, and he did not look at us.

"Dissolution granted," the judge said.

My mother let out a sound I had not heard from her since my father died.

It was not quite a laugh.

I put my arm around her in the hall, and she patted my hand.

"Go on, honey," she said. "I have church circle. I'm not a child, and there's a casserole."

"Mom."

"I know where he's waiting. He's been on those steps since eight."

She kissed my cheek and walked off down the hall, a small woman in a big coat.

I stood there with my heart going.

For eight weeks I had kept my hands off him.

It had been his decision, not mine.

The night of the dinner he had driven us to Park Point and carried my mother's bags in.

He had stood on the porch with his hands in his pockets.

"Not until it's signed," he had said.

"Nils."

"If it's pending, he can use it. I won't hand him that."

I had understood.

I had also wanted to hit him.

I went down the courthouse steps in my coat.

He was at the bottom in the one suit he owned, with the sun on his face.

He looked up and saw my face and I watched him know.

"It's signed," I said.

"I know. I could see it from here," he said.

"There's nobody left to hide from," I said.

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