Sally was Marion’s rebound relationship.
For the first few days after Marion’s husband announced he was in love with his personal assistant and filing for divorce, Marion barely got up from her bed.
Abby, age thirteen, would come to her bedside and timidly ask for food, but Marion turned away and said there was cereal in the kitchen.
There wasn’t any cereal. Nor was there milk. The only food Abby knew how to make was minute rice and pasta so for three mornings she ate buttered pasta and took herself to school.
On the fourth morning she called Aunt Sally.
When Abby came home from school, she found her aunt sitting in front of laptop at the kitchen table with her mother, whose hair was combed and washed.
“This is how it’s looking,” Abby said to Marion, gesturing at the laptop, “Craig took most of the money from your joint account and told you this was for a down payment on a boat. He needs to show records of this boat, which you own one half of. He needs to give you records of the house mortgage, plus all his other assets, like stocks, property, any other accounts in other banks.”
“You don’t understand.” Marion’s voice wavered. “I signed a prenuptial. I don’t have any claim on any of his assets! I have nothing!”
Sally looked flustered. “Listen, I work in an estate management law firm. I’ve seen these types of prenuptials. You still have claim on whatever money was made during the marriage, and from what you say there was a lot of it. You just need to force him to show you the accounts. You get your own lawyer and…”
“I did get a lawyer and he says I have no claim to anything besides the house, which is mortgaged to the hilt.” Marion said, dabbing her eyes.
Sally made a strangled noise and finally noticed Abby, peeking behind the kitchen entrance. “Abby, sweetie, so glad you called me but your mother and I are sorting out a few things. How about we catch up a little later? Maybe we can order pizza?”
Abby stared at her mother, who’d finally shown signs of life. She was too afraid to say anything, so she nodded and went to her room. But she could still hear her mother’s teary responses about having no choice with the prenuptial, that all the lawyers in town were afraid of her husband and weren’t going to cross to help her.
Another passed and Abby slipped out o her room and back to the kitchen, which was now empty. Then she saw her mother and Sally in the driveway standing next to Sally’s car. Her mother handed Sally some papers and her phone. Then Sally got in the car and drove off.
Why was her mother giving her away her phone, her lifeline?
Marion came back into the house. “ Her face looked visible brighter, almost hopefully. “Sally’s going to take care of us.”
— Von
For the first few days after Marion’s husband announced he was in love with his personal assistant and filing for divorce, Marion barely got up from her bed.
Abby, age thirteen, would come to her bedside and timidly ask for food, but Marion turned away and said there was cereal in the kitchen.
There wasn’t any cereal. Nor was there milk. The only food Abby knew how to make was minute rice and pasta so for three mornings she ate buttered pasta and took herself to school.
On the fourth morning she called Aunt Sally.
When Abby came home from school, she found her aunt sitting in front of laptop at the kitchen table with her mother, whose hair was combed and washed.
“This is how it’s looking,” Abby said to Marion, gesturing at the laptop, “Craig took most of the money from your joint account and told you this was for a down payment on a boat. He needs to show records of this boat, which you own one half of. He needs to give you records of the house mortgage, plus all his other assets, like stocks, property, any other accounts in other banks.”
“You don’t understand.” Marion’s voice wavered. “I signed a prenuptial. I don’t have any claim on any of his assets! I have nothing!”
Sally looked flustered. “Listen, I work in an estate management law firm. I’ve seen these types of prenuptials. You still have claim on whatever money was made during the marriage, and from what you say there was a lot of it. You just need to force him to show you the accounts. You get your own lawyer and…”
“I did get a lawyer and he says I have no claim to anything besides the house, which is mortgaged to the hilt.” Marion said, dabbing her eyes.
Sally made a strangled noise and finally noticed Abby, peeking behind the kitchen entrance. “Abby, sweetie, so glad you called me but your mother and I are sorting out a few things. How about we catch up a little later? Maybe we can order pizza?”
Abby stared at her mother, who’d finally shown signs of life. She was too afraid to say anything, so she nodded and went to her room. But she could still hear her mother’s teary responses about having no choice with the prenuptial, that all the lawyers in town were afraid of her husband and weren’t going to cross to help her.
Another passed and Abby slipped out o her room and back to the kitchen, which was now empty. Then she saw her mother and Sally in the driveway standing next to Sally’s car. Her mother handed Sally some papers and her phone. Then Sally got in the car and drove off.
Why was her mother giving her away her phone, her lifeline?
Marion came back into the house. “ Her face looked visible brighter, almost hopefully. “Sally’s going to take care of us.”
— Von
OK. Good deal! Now we get to the bottom of... something! Enjoyed it a lot, knowing (sort of) what's going to happen. Neato. ---Macoff
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