Chapter 147

Anna was very quiet. In two hours she said almost nothing. She did cry quietly. Mark ranted often about how angry he was at his Dad. He also asked three or four times what was on the DVD's. I told him that the DVD's showed his Dad and my wife having sex in my house and my bed. I wouldn't say more.

Candice wanted to know about me and about Charlene. I told how we met, what we used to do, about finding Trout Lake on a weekend outing and how things had changed in the last year. She wanted to know about my work. Was I good at it? Did I like it? Was there a future in the company?

I wanted her story. Eighteen years of living in Trout Lake. Her suspicions over the years. What she liked doing and what she hadn't done that she might like to do. I asked that question of the kids too. Mark wanted to travel some. He'd never been out of southern Washington and northern Oregon. He moaned that this was his third trip to Portland and he wouldn't see anything.

Anna didn't speak. Candice said she loved gardening and had read about some wonderful gardens in Victoria British Columbia she'd like to see. She thought travel might be fun. She had been born in Newport Oregon and would like to go back some time.

At midnight we sent the kids off to bed. We sat closer together and talked about divorce. Candice had done well about not crying while the kids were up but tears flowed as we talked. I shed a few myself. We realized and spoke that the tears were not about losing our spouses but about losing who we wanted our spouses to be. At about one in the morning my cell phone rang. I told Candice to please be quiet and I answered.

It was Charlene.

"Are you off work?"

"Yes. What's up?"

"Something's wrong. I'm stuck in Goldendale. My credit cards don't work. I have no cash. I need you to come help me."

"Can't you call someone closer than me? If I left now it would be daylight by the time I got there."

"Who else could I call?"

"Don't you have friends at work? What about that Mary that you covered for at a conference? Doesn't she owe you a favor?"

She was crying. I waited.

"I can't ask her."

"I'll find a way to get some help to you. Tell me exactly where you are."

She did and I hung up. I called Lance and told him I knew where Charlene would be for the next few hours if she needed to be served divorce papers. He took down the information and I asked him to include fifty dollars with the papers. He said that would not be a problem. We hung up.

Candice said, "You still care for her, don't you?"

"Yes. As angry and hurt as I am I still want her life to work. She needs the consequences of her choices but I don't need to be mean about it. She's going to lose everything anyway."

We hugged and went to our separate beds. I set my alarm for eight and went to sleep. By nine I was on the road to Trout Lake. Just after noon I was there. My first stop was the farm. I found Miguel in the office. I gave him the letter; he read it and thanked me for bringing it. He signed it and then made a copy for his records. He asked what I knew about Bill. I told him that as of last night he was in jail in Yakima for attempting to hit a Marshal. I also told him that both Bill Stevens and Charlene Peterson were fired and no longer allowed on farm property. Miguel thanked me and I left. I went to our cabin. I took the new DVD's and the equipment, all my clothes and my personal items. The Suburban was getting loaded. I took my keys from the hook and took the map. After locking up I drove to the realtor in town and listed the cabin for sale. I gave the agent Charlene's keys and told her that except for clothes and personal items the cabin was to be sold furnished. I also left written instructions that if Charlene showed up at her office she was only to be allowed in the cabin with supervision and could only remove items from the bathroom and clothes from the downstairs bedroom.

By two in the afternoon I was on my way back to Portland. As I crossed the bridge to Hood River my cell rang.

"Hello."

"You bastard!"

"Hello to you too."

"Divorce? Why? I thought we were getting things back together?"

"What made you think that?"

"You invited me to your apartment this weekend!"

"That was before."

"Before what?"

"Before I was given proof that you and you boss were shacking up in our house!"

"Proof? There can't be any proof!"

"Well, when we get to court you'll get to see the proof and judge for yourself. As for me, I'm convinced. By the way, did you also get some money?"