A Woman's Place: A Novel by Barbara Delinsky

of days. Or one of my associates can stand in for me. In any case, given my impression of your business and the fact that your husband seems to want to make things difficult, I'll need a retainer of ten thousand dollars."
    "Ten thousand dollars." For what! Getting a continuance that would keep me away from my children even longer? Letting an associate handle my case? Barraging me with accusations at a time when I already felt skinned?
    "Well, I'm not running a charity here," he growled in a playful way that I found distinctly condescending. "Come on. You know how things work. You're a successful businesswoman, calm, cool as a cuke--"
    "Cool as a cuke, well, what choice do I have?" I cried in anger. "It's either be calm and cool, or lose it and panic."
    "I dare say you aren't one to panic. Calm, cool, and ballsy. Your husband must have had his hands full with you." I stood. "Thanks for your time, Mr. Usher, but this isn't a good match."
    "I'm only saying what any judge will be thinking. Times have changed, Mrs. Raphael. Women like you aren't helpless. They aren't vulnerable. They don't inspire sympathy. Women like you are often the ones who've broken the marriage contract. So I'm saying you may face an uphill battle. If you are the major breadwinner, if your husband has more time to give to the kids, if you travel a lot--well, it may be better to let your husband keep the kids. Think about it and give me a call when you're ready to talk."
    I wasn't wasting the energy. Gathering what little was left of my dignity, I put it together with my fear and my pride, and walked out the door.
    Panic hit ten minutes later. I was sitting in another traffic jam, going Page 29
    Barbara Delinsky - A Woman's Place
    nowhere fast. The court order lay crumpled on the passenger seat, beside the parking ticket that had been put under my wiper while I was in Lloyd Usher's office at an hour that didn't require meter money. I didn't understand either one, didn't have a lawyer to explain either one. I didn't have my kids, didn't have my home, didn't have a place to spend the night, or a clue about how to restore sanity to my life. I was suddenly sweating, shaking, not knowing where to turn or what to do.
    The car behind me honked. I let up on the brake and rolled forward.
    "Okay," I whispered. "Okay. Okay." So I wasn't perfect. I had kept the kids waiting, had missed a parent conference. I had been in an accident with the kids in the car. I may even have messed up with the plane times, or forgotten to tell Dennis where I kept Kikit's spare medicine. But I tried my "best. Was I being punished for earning more than Dennis? Well, damn it, he had once had everything going for him--great business, impressive client list, name recognition--and he blew it. Was I supposed to sabotage my own career, just because he had screwed up?
    The car behind me honked again. I released the brake and rolled ahead. As soon as we were at another stand-still, I snatched up the phone, dialed home, heard my own message. That meant Dennis hadn't brought the kids home yet, because Kikit loved answering the phone. She would reach it before anyone else could and talk as long as possible with whoever would listen. Unwanted solicitors usually gave up before she did. I had often threatened to market her.
    Was that crude? Abusive? Dennis knew I was kidding. Kikit knew I was kidding. She loved it, actually, said she could have her own business, just like mine--not that mine was helping me now. Just the opposite. My husband was using it against me.
    I started to shake again. This time, when it seemed that the line of cars hadn't moved in an age, I was the one to honk. Nothing happened. But I felt better.
    I snatched up the phone again and started to punch out the number of the Cleveland Clinic, but canceled the call before it went through. I couldn't tell my mother about this, not with her heart so weak. Had Rona and I been close, I might have called her. As things stood, I couldn't risk