A Good Divorce by John E. Keegan

personalized license plate that said DIVORCE . I walked up the twenty concrete steps I’d swept and hosed down so many times and reassured myself again that I was smart to be representing myself despite the adage about the lawyer who represents himself having a fool for a client. I rang the doorbell and the familiar two-tone chime sounded. Jude had removed the paper insert in the door knocker that used to say “Stapletons.” Male name dominance in the marriage name had bothered her as much as the missionary position. You could still see the scratch marks on the brass from the scissors or screwdriver she’d used to pry out the old label.
    â€œIt’s Dad,” Derek called out as soon as he cracked the door.
    I stepped into the hallway and cupped Derek on the shoulder. Jude had cut off her hair; it was so short that it changed the shape of her face. She was drinking from one of the eggshell china cups that were part of the wedding set she’d mothballed in the basement cupboards. I could smell Paris Interlude, something else she’d mothballed.
    Charlie Johnson was across the table from her. He’d already doffed his suitcoat and was serving shortbread cookies to the kids. What a fixer this guy was. I wanted to warn them not to touch the cookies. You’ll choke on the strings he’s tied to them. He was easily six feet four and had huge feet, which were housed in a pair of white bucks that I hadn’t seen since Pat Boone. Jude had read me a magazine article once that said male shoe size corresponded with the length of a man’s organ.
    â€œHi, Justine,” I said, looking past Charlie.
    She looked uncharacteristically self-conscious and I blamed it on the presence of Charlie. Then I realized it was probably her dress.
    Jude had also dolled up, in a peasant dress with a laced cummerbund that showed off her figure and a bra that she must have also taken out of storage. “Cy, why don’t you get a chair from the dining room?”
    â€œI’ll get it for you, Dad.” Derek ran into the dining room and returned with a chair that he pushed into the back of my knees. I smelled a rat. They’d already talked it over and Derek was feeling sorry for me.
    Jude smiled as I sat down next to her, and I wished again that I’d lobbied the kids when I had them alone, realizing now that they’d probably interpreted my silence as lack of interest. Did I really think that Charlie was going to let the kids decide this? He’d probably choreographed this whole meeting.
    â€œWe might as well get started,” Charlie said. His eyes fluttered like he’d caught a stray crumb. He reminded me of someone about to do a card trick; no matter which card you picked he’d make it come out his way. Justine had scooted away from Charlie and she was tapping the insides of her shoes together. I’d taught her to take care of herself in Hearts by holding the Queen of Spades, the Dirty Dora, instead of passing it. That way you always knew where trouble was. “I’d like to give everyone an overview of why we’re here,” he said.
    Cyrus, I said to myself, this house is still half yours and so are the kids. You can either sit here on your hands and let this man fancy you out of everything or you can stand up and let the kids know you care. I still wasn’t sure why I’d gone into law. There was nothing to suggest that I’d be any good at it. Although I pulled decent grades in school, I was a social bumbler with ears larger than normal that I covered with long hair, an act which some people had confused with rebellion. In my third year of law school, I still blushed when the professor called on me. And, as Jude could verify, I could be cowed in an ordinary kitchen argument. “If you don’t mind, Charlie, this is family business.”
    Derek, who seemed fascinated by the tall counselor in suspenders, jerked his head around in surprise. Justine