you might possibly run into someone who knows your ex.”
“I think I should go farther away than Jersey,” I said thoughtfully.
“Like where?”
“Somewhere new where I can get a fresh and cheaper start. Maybe back home to Michigan. I’ve been gone over ten years, so it would really be like starting over.”
“What would you do in Michigan?” She said the name of my home state like it was an undeveloped Third World country; a common misconception actually.
The waiter brought over another bottle of wine for us, and I used the interruption to think about what I would do in Michigan. My intention back in the day had been to get my Master’s in Social Work and work with underprivileged teenagers. I’d wanted to help them achieve success in their lives and get out of the “system.” I could do that in Michigan for sure. The whole Metro Detroit area was in a disgrace at the moment and the underprivileged were many. Plus, my money would go a lot further there, especially if I moved in with my brother. Yes! It was definitely possible. I could make do on the measly amount of money my loving husband was “paying” me if I moved back to Michigan!
“I’m going to do what I was supposed to have done all along,” I told her. Now where was our food? I was suddenly famished.
I got back into the city by noon the next day and went straight to the lawyer’s office – (I had used Hope’s iPad at the hotel the night before to get the scoop on divorce lawyers. Maybe this technological overload actually had some relevance). The lawyer looked over the papers and said as long as Caleb was being honest about his finances, the offer was on the lower end of fair. She was going to send over a counteroffer asking for the higher end and do a little bit of research to see if she could find any hidden assets. I told her to do as much research as she wanted since Caleb was paying for it.
She said I didn’t have to move out of the condo until it was sold, but I already had it in my head that I was going to Michigan and it was too late to change my mind. I told her to let me know anytime she wanted me to come to New York to meet with her again since the transportation expenses were taken care of, wink wink.
The moving expenses were also taken care of. When I told Caleb I was moving back home, he had a moving company lined up within minutes. He told me to go ahead and pack a carry-on because he had booked me a flight to Michigan for Monday morning. The movers would have all of my stuff packed up and driven to Ann Arbor by Wednesday. Except for the furniture. The realtor said the condo would sell faster with the furniture in it so we were leaving it for now.
And that was it. That was all it took. Thursday he told me he wanted a divorce and Monday morning I was on the first flight to DTW. I left behind Hope, my amazing condo and a city I loved as if it were a family member. But I was also on my way to gaining back my independence and all of the things that made me, me, before I met Caleb. I was gaining the ability to think for myself and make my own decisions and make my own flight arrangements, when needed.
The funny thing about it, though, was that I had no idea what the hell I was doing. The one who planned everything, in a borderline-OCD kind of way, was doing something unplanned. I didn’t know what was before me, but I had faith that whatever it was, it was better than what I was leaving behind – somebody cue the soundtrack guy, please. I think something uplifting would be suitable here.
Once the plane had taken off and the fun part was over, I reached into my tote bag for a magazine. A white envelope fell out of a copy of Self . First, I thought it was a heartfelt apologetic goodbye letter from Caleb, but since I didn’t see any pigs flying outside of my window, I knew that couldn’t be the case. I opened it up. It was from Hope. She must have snuck it into my bag when she came over to say goodbye.
It was written on
“I think I should go farther away than Jersey,” I said thoughtfully.
“Like where?”
“Somewhere new where I can get a fresh and cheaper start. Maybe back home to Michigan. I’ve been gone over ten years, so it would really be like starting over.”
“What would you do in Michigan?” She said the name of my home state like it was an undeveloped Third World country; a common misconception actually.
The waiter brought over another bottle of wine for us, and I used the interruption to think about what I would do in Michigan. My intention back in the day had been to get my Master’s in Social Work and work with underprivileged teenagers. I’d wanted to help them achieve success in their lives and get out of the “system.” I could do that in Michigan for sure. The whole Metro Detroit area was in a disgrace at the moment and the underprivileged were many. Plus, my money would go a lot further there, especially if I moved in with my brother. Yes! It was definitely possible. I could make do on the measly amount of money my loving husband was “paying” me if I moved back to Michigan!
“I’m going to do what I was supposed to have done all along,” I told her. Now where was our food? I was suddenly famished.
I got back into the city by noon the next day and went straight to the lawyer’s office – (I had used Hope’s iPad at the hotel the night before to get the scoop on divorce lawyers. Maybe this technological overload actually had some relevance). The lawyer looked over the papers and said as long as Caleb was being honest about his finances, the offer was on the lower end of fair. She was going to send over a counteroffer asking for the higher end and do a little bit of research to see if she could find any hidden assets. I told her to do as much research as she wanted since Caleb was paying for it.
She said I didn’t have to move out of the condo until it was sold, but I already had it in my head that I was going to Michigan and it was too late to change my mind. I told her to let me know anytime she wanted me to come to New York to meet with her again since the transportation expenses were taken care of, wink wink.
The moving expenses were also taken care of. When I told Caleb I was moving back home, he had a moving company lined up within minutes. He told me to go ahead and pack a carry-on because he had booked me a flight to Michigan for Monday morning. The movers would have all of my stuff packed up and driven to Ann Arbor by Wednesday. Except for the furniture. The realtor said the condo would sell faster with the furniture in it so we were leaving it for now.
And that was it. That was all it took. Thursday he told me he wanted a divorce and Monday morning I was on the first flight to DTW. I left behind Hope, my amazing condo and a city I loved as if it were a family member. But I was also on my way to gaining back my independence and all of the things that made me, me, before I met Caleb. I was gaining the ability to think for myself and make my own decisions and make my own flight arrangements, when needed.
The funny thing about it, though, was that I had no idea what the hell I was doing. The one who planned everything, in a borderline-OCD kind of way, was doing something unplanned. I didn’t know what was before me, but I had faith that whatever it was, it was better than what I was leaving behind – somebody cue the soundtrack guy, please. I think something uplifting would be suitable here.
Once the plane had taken off and the fun part was over, I reached into my tote bag for a magazine. A white envelope fell out of a copy of Self . First, I thought it was a heartfelt apologetic goodbye letter from Caleb, but since I didn’t see any pigs flying outside of my window, I knew that couldn’t be the case. I opened it up. It was from Hope. She must have snuck it into my bag when she came over to say goodbye.
It was written on
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