The Divorce Papers: A Novel (8 page)

Oh, Maggie,

I can’t believe I ever had a crush on that man. What a skunk. Boy, did he have me snookered. I sent him an email saying I’d take on the case and got back a lecture on emails and the threat they pose to the attorney-client privilege. It was so infuriating. I know the rules—and the risks. There was nothing in my email that compromised anyone or anything. (Just my luck, he’ll intercept THIS email.) And, he never said “Thank you,” or “I know this is not something you signed on for.” Of course, if he doesn’t recognize a debt to me, then it doesn’t exist. And then there’s Fiona; she’s not going to take this well. I can hear her now: “You Yale Law grads knock me out. There’s nothing you can’t do. Habeas corpus with the right hand, alimony with the left.” She’ll no doubt accuse me of poaching her case. This is a royal screwing.

I’ll drop by your rehearsal around 9:30 on Friday. I can’t wait to meet this Harry fellow. Is he more Rochester or Heathcliff?

Love,

Sophie

P.S. Would I have had a crush on DG if he didn’t look like Jeff Bridges? (Rhetorical question. Don’t answer. My chronic weakness for sturdy men. And Starman Bridges NOT Lebowski.)

Join the E-Generation

Dear David—

Millennium Approaches. I think it’s time you bit the dumdum and entered the electronic age. We don’t need to be bombarding each other with constant streams of memoranda—like 18th-century courtiers sending notes round by hand. All that letterhead paper, filing, etc. I will make a promise. I will never send you an email that couldn’t be read by either opposing counsel or your mother. (The two negatives make an intended positive.) Email is very useful for making appointments, sending reminders, and the like. And if you want to make an email part of the record, you can print it out and have Hannah file it.

I won’t be able to make the Friday appointment. I’ll be out of the office all day, interviewing possible witnesses for the Trilling case. How about Monday morning? I can do anytime until 1 pm when I’ve got to leave for an evidentiary hearing.

I’m cc’ing Hannah so she can check your calendar.

Yours,

Sophie

P.S. Atticus as Jewish. I need to see that. I have seen
The Third Man
. It’s my mother’s second-favorite movie after
Smiles of a Summer Night
. I’ve also seen
Paths of Glory
, which is my father’s favorite movie, not counting
Chariots of Fire
, that great British weeper. So, do you watch
The Simpsons
?

Mr. Watson, Come Here

Dear Sophie—

I hope your Trilling interviews went well. I’ve slotted you in at 9:30 Monday. Do you check your email over the weekend?

What do you think of my maiden email? I was taken by your lavish style—especially after that first terse, unfriendly (probably, deservedly so) message. What with the courtiers, the dumdums, and the bombarding streams, I was immersed in a soup of metaphors. Will email do this to me, too?

You might be interested to know that my mother is not a prig; I can’t imagine anything you’d say in your most indiscreet moments that would shock her. She’s like Grace Kelly’s mother in
To Catch a Thief
, very down-to-earth, a bourbon drinker. You’d like her. She’d like you. My starchiness can’t be laid at her feet.

I am sorry you’ve been roped into this matter. I know I promised. At the very least, I should have asked you in person.

David

P.S. I know who the Simpsons are. I have sons, remember.

P.P.S. Don’t think I didn’t catch the Tony Kushner reference. I think
Angels in America
is the great American play of the second half of the 20th century. First half:
A Streetcar Named Desire
.

Men

Mags—

I am wiped out. I crawled in at 4 a.m. I haven’t stayed out, let alone up, that late since your wedding. What can I say? Harry is terrific. I could fall for him, heavily and physically. I didn’t see any of his dark, brooding side. Probably blinded by those shoulders. He was funny, smart, interesting—and interested. He liked my client stories, especially the Trilling saga; but then what’s not to like about a case where a sociopath kills his neighbor because his Pekinese shat on his lawn? I’m seeing him again tonight after the rehearsal. My fantasy life may start taking a backseat to my real one. Although that has been resurrected. I’ve resumed my crush on DG. He wrote me an email in his old unconsciously (?) flirtatious way. Or, maybe not. Maybe he was just being teasing and playful.

I have to go into the office this afternoon to work on the Trilling case and tidy up my regular workload, since on Monday I begin divorce detail. I’ll see you this evening. I’ll come by at the end of rehearsal to watch the last act. I think the play will be a great success and you are wonderful as Annie, though not very likable. It’s interesting that a play about love is about adultery. I know you can’t do a marriage play without adultery—no plot—but there are less cruel ways of doing it (though no doubt less dramatically interesting). Perhaps for Stoppard, only the love for children is the real thing. My favorite bit is the second scene, where the playwright’s first wife says about him and their daughter: “He’s in love with his [daughter].” (I’m improvising.) And you (second wife) say: “Isn’t that normal?” And the ex-wife says: “Normal is the other way round.” I wonder why he
picked this play? Does it resonate with anyone who wasn’t divorced or whose parents weren’t divorced? I’m thinking I should send my new client and her husband (and his new sweetheart) complimentary tickets to your play. I’m also thinking I should stop fantasizing about Mrs. Greaves’s husband. God, he’s as old as my father. I am disgusting.

But then there’s Harry. Do you know when I saw him, I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck bristling? I haven’t felt that way since 11th grade when I sat across the aisle from Jack in the theater class at Collegiate. I used to think I’d fall off my chair. I’d lost all will; I was pure desire—and desire couldn’t sit up straight or pay attention to
Joe Egg
. Do we ever feel that intensely again? No. Only teenagers kill themselves for love; Maman says, Anna threw herself under the train not because she lost Vronsky but because she lost her son. There we are again: the love for children.

I need more sleep.

Kiss Matt for me. Love,

Sophie

Hello

Sweet Sophie—How are you feeling? Did you get any sleep? I’m wrecked. And you did it. You are coming by rehearsal tonight, aren’t you? It should be over by 12:30, but you’re welcome anytime.

Harry

TRAYNOR, HAND, WYZANSKI

222 CHURCH STREET

NEW SALEM, NARRAGANSETT 06555

(393) 876-5678

MEMORANDUM

Attorney Work Product

At our meeting this morning, we discussed the next steps to be taken in the Durkheim case. In the next few days, I shall attend to the matters that need attending to and do more reading and research. You will deal with Fiona in a way that will mitigate any ill feelings this assignment may have inadvertently engendered.

Matters That Need Attending: