The Divorce Papers: A Novel Read online

  261 he’d never forgive me if I didn’t go along. As it turns out, he

  262 didn’t forgive me anyway. Though he’s not said so outright,

  263 he’s not happy at Mather. Too much management and not as

  264 great a variety of cases as in New York. So my unhappiness, of

  265 course, is intolerable, a reproach.

  266 Q. Who looks after Jane most of the time?

  267 A. I look after her. It’s one of the reasons I’m a writing tutor.

  268 It’s part-time. I can be home with Jane after school and on

  269 holidays. We do have a housekeeper, Luz Garcia. She comes

  270 in every day. We need someone full-time; she works 40 hours

  271 a week for us, though not on an 8-hour-a-day schedule, and we

  272 pay her Social Security—in case Daniel wants to head NIH

  273 someday. Just kidding; I’d pay it anyway. This is being taped,

  274 right? Luz is a resident alien. We helped her get her green

  275 card. She’s wonderful. I have a younger sister, Cordelia, who

  276 has Down’s and lives in Philadelphia, in a halfway house. I

  277 visit her twice a month, sometimes more. I stay over in Philly,

  278 Tuesday to Wednesday—that way I see her two days on each

  279 visit—and Luz stays over in the house with Jane. It’s too

  280 hard to rely on Daniel, though he makes a huge effort to have

  281 dinner with her every night, and especially on Tuesdays when

  282 I’m away. He works 90 to 100 hours a week, resident’s hours.

  283 On weekends, which look like weekdays for him, he always,

  284 or almost always, spends part of Saturday or Sunday doing

  285 sports with Jane. Right now, he’s teaching her squash. Jane’s

  286 a great athlete and Daniel’s a dogged one. Very competitive,

  287 needless to say. He won’t fight me for custody—if that’s where

  288 you’re going. He doesn’t have time, and he thinks, I think, I’m

  289 a pretty good mom, or at least a devoted one. Since she was

  290 born, I’ve loved her more than anyone else. [Pause] Well, that

  291 says it all, doesn’t it. Well, maybe not all. In some way, it’s

  292 been self-protective. Daniel has always needed “his children,”

  293 those terribly sick and dying children, more than he needed

  294 me or Jane. [Pause] But I’m not being fair. He adores Jane. He

  295 calls us, or used to call us, the Three Musketeers. If we were

  296 going somewhere, out to dinner or maybe a movie, the two

  297 of them would go through this silly ceremony of departure,

  298 a kind of Monty Python changing of the guard. I was the

  299 audience. It started when Jane was about 3. He’d stand at

  300 the side door and shout out, “Musketeers on the forecastle.”

  301 Hearing those words, from wherever she was, Jane would fling

  302 herself down the stairs to join him. When she got there, he’d

  303 hold out his right hand and say, with a very solemn face, “All

  304 for one.” Jane would high-five him and answer with an equally

  305 solemn face, “And one for all.” Then he’d scoop her up, throw

  306 her over his shoulder, and carry her out to the car. Jane was

  307 in heaven in those moments; I think he was too. [Pause] The

  308 Musketeers have disbanded.

  309 Q. Was your husband’s decision to start divorce proceedings

  310 a surprise to you?

  311 A. No. Yes. He told me on January 3rd, three days into

  312 the New Year, that he wanted a divorce. It threw me into

  313 a tailspin. I thought we’d live unhappily ever after. I never

  314 thought he’d go through with a second divorce. I asked him

  315 if there was another woman. He said no but I don’t believe

  316 him. I know his modus operandi, after all. I think he’s been

  317 messing around with Dr. Stephanie Roth, a dermatologist

  318 with a private practice in New York. They were in med school

  319 together, and they’ve been intermittently in touch since.

  320 She’s apparently the person to see for wrinkles in the City.

  321 Her bread and butter is rejuvenating work, Botox, dermal

  322 abrasions, and the like. She had a write-up once in Harper’s

  323 Bazaar. Her face looks like it’s been ironed. [Pause] Do you

  324 remember that scene in A Man for All Seasons, when More

  325 confronts Richard Rich for betraying him in exchange for

  326 being made Chancellor of Wales? More says to him, “I can

  327 understand a man giving up his soul for the world, Richard,

  328 but for Wales?” That’s how I feel. I can understand Daniel

  329 leaving me, but for Stephanie Roth?

  330 Q. You seem very composed now.

  331 A. Xanax. I took 3 mg. before I came. I’ve been seeing an

  332 analyst from Northeastern Psychoanalytic, for 6 years. Isabel

  333 Stokes. Over the years, she’s prescribed for me a variety of

  334 antidepressants. Right now I’m on Wellbutrin. I’ve been

  335 depressed since I was 10. I’m a pretty high-functioning

  336 depressive, but a depressive nonetheless. Daniel hates it; he

  337 takes it personally. I can’t blame him altogether. Depressives

  338 are downers. Dr. Stokes gave me Xanax back in January. I

  339 was so anxious, I couldn’t read, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t

  340 eat. I took it pretty regularly in January and February, but

  341 now I only take it when I think an occasion calls for it. Like

  342 this. When I was given the summons at Golightly’s, I almost

  343 passed out. Since then, I never travel without the Xanax. I

  344 still haven’t gotten over it. I can’t believe Daniel would have

  345 agreed to that, but maybe I’m being naïve. He might say in

  346 his defense that I had provoked it. It was all my fault, as was

  347 everything.

  348 Q. What do you mean by provoking it?

  349 A. I had a brief correspondence with Dr. Stephanie, which

  350 may have stirred the pot.

  351 Q. Could you be more specific?

  352 A. I brought copies. I wrote to her; she wrote back; I wrote

  353 back. Here.

  354 [Extended pause. Note to Hannah: I am placing the three

  355 letters in the file.]

  356 Q. I see. Anything else?

  357 A. Yes. About a week after he told me he wanted a divorce,

  358 I asked him to rethink his decision or at least consider

  359 mediation or counseling. He wasn’t interested. I then asked

  360 him to hold off doing anything definitive, such as hiring a

  361 lawyer, until I had gotten more used to the idea. He agreed.

  362 He saw how upset I was. We talked about telling Jane. I asked

  363 him if we could consult a therapist to find out the best way of

  364 telling her. He agreed very quickly, and two days later we had

  365 an appointment with Dr. Rachel Fischer, a child psychiatrist

  366 at the Mather Child Study Center. I don’t know where he

  367 found her; he’s very anti-shrink, thinks psychiatry is voodoo.

  368 He believes in willpower—it’s the Ayn Rand in him—and he

  369 disapproves of mental illness. Also obesity. He thinks of them

  370 as mental slovenliness. Anyway, we went to see her on January

  371 25th. She gave us some pointers, nothing surprising. She said

  372 we should sp
eak to her together and reassure her that we were

  373 only divorcing each other, and not her. She advised holding

  374 off telling Jane until I could talk about divorce without crying.

  375 Even Xanaxed up the wazoo, I was a wreck the first two

  376 months, on or over the verge of tears all the time.

  377 Q. Have you told Jane?

  378 A. There’s a story. Two days after I was served at

  379 Golightly’s, when I was in Philadelphia visiting my sister, I got

  380 a call at 8 p.m. in my hotel from Jane. She was sobbing. Daniel

  381 had told her we were getting a divorce. He got it into his head

  382 that she knew somehow, and he thought he should reassure

  383 her. I drove home immediately. Jane was a mess. And I didn’t

  384 get to see Cordelia the next day, which was her birthday, and

  385 which was very upsetting to her and to me. What a prince,

  386 what a perfect prince. [Pause] The next day I told my father,

  387 who encouraged me to consult his lawyers. A month later,

  388 armed with meds, here I am.

  389 Q. Are you both living in the same dwelling?

  390 A. Dwelling, I like that. Yes, we’re in separate bedrooms

  391 in our house. It’s a new house, 404 St. Cloud. We built it two

  392 years ago, probably to ward off divorce. Isn’t that what people

  393 do? They have a baby or build a new house. It’s a nice house,

  394 modern, horizontal, clean-limbed, wood and windows, very

  395 un–St. Cloud, which is a stew of English Tudor, American

  396 Craftsman, and Tuscan Villa. Neighbors objected at first, but

  397 we planted some full-grown trees in the front, and they subsided.

  398 Daniel worked on the designs with the architect. He had thought

  399 of becoming an architect at one point; in college, he went to

  400 Columbia, he double-majored in chemistry and art history.

  401 Q. Do you have a mortgage? Do you know its value?

  402 A. I’m good about money. I pay the bills, I keep the tax

  403 records. The house cost $375,000, more or less, including the

  404 land and our very expensive Mather School of Architecture

  405 architect. Its current value is about $525,000. I called a

  406 Realtor, Laura Bucholtz, yesterday, to get a quick estimate.

  407 She was the agent on the land sale and knows St. Cloud Street

  408 from Germyn Street to Allerton. We have a 30-year mortgage

  409 for $250,000 at 8%. Carrying costs, including local taxes but

  410 not utilities, are about $3,500 a month. Daniel will want to

  411 keep the house. I suppose that gives me some leverage?

  412 Q. It may. Is there any other real estate?

  413 A. My father and I own a house on Martha’s Vineyard,

  414 on the water in Aquinnah. It was my mother’s house, and

  415 she left it to us in a trust; the survivor gets it all. There’s a

  416 special name for that. This creates problems for my father. Of

  417 course, he doesn’t want me to predecease him, but his wife,

  418 my stepmother, Cindy, would like to be able to use it and to

  419 decorate it. The house is a wreck. Nothing’s been done to it

  420 since 1920, except the bare minimum to keep it from falling

  421 down, and the Vineyard in those days wasn’t what it is today.

  422 It has no inside toilets, only an outhouse with a row of 4 WCs

  423 off the back porch. And my father and I have to agree on any

  424 changes because we own it together, and we can’t so we don’t.

  425 [Pause] We don’t agree on much, except Jane.

  426 Q. Do you know what it’s worth?

  427 A. When my mother died in 1979, it was valued at $90,000.

  428 It’s probably worth $3 million now. Maybe more. The land,

  429 not the house. The site is spectacular.

  430 Q. Do you use it? Does your father?

  431 A. My father never goes up. He finds the toilet situation

  432 unacceptable. Oh, and there are no showers, only bathtubs.

  433 I go up at least once a year with Jane, who loves it. When

  434 she was smaller, she thought the outhouses were great fun,

  435 but now she’d like a proper inside toilet. I think she’s been

  436 lobbying my father. My father wants to fix the whole place up,

  437 make it an Edgartown kind of house. That or nothing.

  438 I want inside toilets and a shower and a dishwasher and cable,

  439 but I want to keep the house’s essential character. It’s all I

  440 have left of my mother. Daniel went up once, never again. He

  441 is hugely resentful that I haven’t put him on the deed. I keep

  442 explaining that I can’t, but he refuses to understand, seeing it

  443 as a deliberate act on my part. And he, too, hated the toilets.

  444 I think in some ways men are more fastidious than women.

  445 Q. Any other property?

  446 A. The usual detritus of middle-class acquisitiveness. The

  447 only things I think we’d argue over are a Persian rug, which

  448 was a wedding present from my grandparents, an early Cindy

  449 Sherman photograph, and a Jenny Holzer sign, “Abuse of

  450 power comes as no surprise.” They’re the only things we’d

  451 both want.

  452 Q. Are you likely to inherit any money, property?

  453 A. I suppose I’m likely to inherit money from my father

  454 when he dies, if he dies, but I can’t count on it. For one thing,

  455 I might easily predecease him. My mother died young, 46,

  456 and so did her mother. For another, he’s only 68, and the

  457 Meiklejohns live forever. He’s got a brother who’s 87 and

  458 still sits on the federal bench. Both his parents died in their

  459 90s. For a third, he’s controlling. And he’s always rewriting

  460 his will. Ask his lawyer, Proctor, as in The Crucible. He’s a

  461 member of your firm. I think he does a new one every three

  462 months. He recently said he created a trust for Jane and me,

  463 but he’s the trustee. What does that mean? He won’t tell me

  464 anything else. This may change with the divorce. He doesn’t

  465 like Daniel. He doesn’t exactly think he married me for my

  466 money, but he doubts he would have married me without

  467 it. But that could be said for my looks as well. Daniel likes

  468 tall blondes with irregular features, bluestockings with trust

  469 funds. Helen, his first wife, had serious money. Do you know

  470 the Fincher Galleries at the Fine Arts Museum? A gift of her

  471 grandparents. Dr. Stephanie is a bit of an outlier, not a WASP,

  472 no family money, too short. Her dad was only a doctor, also a

  473 dermatologist. But he was frugal and he believed in real estate.

  474 He left her, free and clear, two apartments in the Beresford.

  475 She lives in the smaller one, eight rooms. [Pause] I’m not sure

  476 she’ll get to walk down the aisle. [Pause] You shouldn’t think I

  477 was brought up to talk about money. I wasn’t. My mother, who

  478 was a rigorously honorable, straightforward person, imposed

  479 an absolute embargo on money as a subject of conversation;

  480 she thought talking about money was common. It offended

  481 her, the way Nixon’s hate list and anti-Semitism offended her,

  482 as a sign of bad breeding. I was never allowe
d to say how much

  483 anything cost. I must have looked an idiot. I went to school

  484 with the children of professors and lawyers. They knew what

  485 everything cost, including their parents’ psychiatrists. [Pause]

  486 I don’t talk about the price of things, that lesson has stuck,

  487 but I am prepared to acknowledge certain obvious facts about

  488 my life and my upbringing. I was brought up rich and I have

  489 the exaggerated sense of entitlement that money confers. I

  490 don’t always get what I want, but not because of money. That

  491 makes me very different from most other people, including my

  492 husband. He never had money until recently. He likes it, having

  493 it and spending it, but success is more important to him.

  494 Q. What about other assets? Savings and the like?

  495 A. Daniel makes the money, and he handles the

  496 investments. I don’t think he’s hiding anything. He has

  497 retirement funds with TIAA-CREF in the neighborhood

  498 of $600,000. He also has a 401(k) plan with approximately

  499 $300,000 in it. Other assets include about $700,000 in stocks,

  500 $90,000 in treasury bills, and $80,000 in a savings account.

  501 He does a quarterly accounting; I got the figures from the one

  502 he did in early October.

  503 Q. Any insurance policies?

  504 A. Daniel is insured for $1.5 million; I’m insured for

  505 $200,000—to pay Luz’s salary in case I conk. He’d need

  506 somebody.

  507 Q. Could you provide a salary history? And a few other

  508 particulars? [Note to Hannah: I handed Mrs. Durkheim

  509 copies of the Divorce Work Sheets: Summary Biographies for

  510 her and her husband.]

  511 A. Of course.

  512 Q. Does your husband have any separate assets? Any

  513 inheritances?

  514 A. Daniel’s an orphan. His father died in 1992, his mother

  515 in 1998. He inherited a 1989 Honda Accord and $16,000.

  516 His parents owned a printing business. They never made

  517 much money, but they saw that their son, their only child,

  518 was well educated. And praised, praised for everything

  519 he did, every bowel movement, every report card, every

  520 titration. They didn’t much care for the grandchildren. They

  521 couldn’t hold a candle to their father. And they certainly had

  522 no use for me or Helen. We weren’t worthy of him; we didn’t