A Good Divorce by John E. Keegan Page A

grinned.
    â€œI just wanted to make sure the kids understood the significance of what we’re doing,” Charlie said.
    â€œYou’d be insulting their intelligence.”
    â€œCyrus,” Jude said. “He was just trying to help.”
    â€œI think we can handle this without an outsider.”
    Charlie shot me a dirty look and leaned back into the couch.
    If I’d picked up my saucer just then, the cup would have tapped out a tune, I was shaking so much. “I’d like to say something to the kids; then, Jude, you can too.” Derek sat cross-legged on the floor like I was going to make up a bedtime story. Justine had finished her shortbread cookies and put her gum back in her mouth. “The hardest thing about the divorce”—I licked my lips and scratched my forehead to distract myself from the precipice I was on the edge of—“the hardest thing is to do this without hurting you two.” Instead of looking at the kids, I fixed on Charlie’s shoes. “When you get divorced, you have to divide things up, which is easy enough with the furniture. Like your mom might take this couch and maybe I’d take the recliner she never used.” Derek chuckled and looked at Jude. “But how do you divide up you?” Derek tried to lighten things up by running a finger from his chin to his belt like an imaginary surgeon’s knife. “You need to help us.”
    â€œYou mean we have to either go with Mom or you?” Justine said.
    â€œWell, that’s about it,” I said. “We can still work something out for weekends and vacations.”
    â€œWhat about Christmas?” Derek said. “There’s only one Christmas.”
    â€œYou can celebrate twice,” Jude said.
    â€œI have a friend,” Justine said, “who lives with her mom and her older brother lives with her dad.”
    â€œYeah, who wants me?” Derek said.
    â€œDerek,” Justine said, “just listen.” She was starting to get serious the way she did when Derek wanted Burger King and she wanted pizza.
    â€œI didn’t think you and Derek would want to split up,” Jude said.
    â€œMaybe we need a divorce too,” Derek said.
    The adults laughed politely and shifted in their seats. Even Charlie loosened up at the prospect of another divorce.
    â€œWho gets the house?” Justine asked.
    I looked directly at Charlie, “That hasn’t been decided yet.” I didn’t want the Alhambra to be the deciding factor.
    â€œWhat about Magpie?” Derek asked.
    â€œDon’t be stupid,” Justine said. “Mom and Dad don’t want the dog. She stays with us.”
    â€œI have to add one legal point,” Charlie said, scooting to the edge of the couch, letting his long arms hang over the coffee table. “The decision by the kids on custody is not binding on the court.”
    â€œJust a minute,” I said.
    â€œI’m not saying it’s input the court won’t seriously consider,” Charlie said. He was scowling at me.
    â€œI’ll support the kids’ decision,” Jude said. “Right, Charlie?”
    Justine stood up and slapped her skirt down where a fold had caught. “Derek and I need our own meeting. This is family business.” I was reassured to hear her borrow one of my lines. While the bond between Jude and me had crumbled, the kids’ bond with each other had strengthened. Publicly they still fought, but when worse came to worst, they were inseparable. Derek nodded his head and the two of them hurried up the stairs, already arguing with each other. Left in the living room, the rest of us twitched in place, trying to think of something neutral to say.
    â€œThe jury’s out,” Charlie said. “Are there any more of those shortbreads?”
    â€œSure, the package is in the kitchen,” Jude said. “I’ve also got more coffee.”
    Charlie followed Jude. I knew he