The House

Also by Anjuelle Floyd

Keeper of Secrets... Translations of an Incident

Smashwords Edition

Cover Created by:

Audria Gardner of Indigo Designs
www.designbyindigo.com

Copyright © 2009 by Anjuelle Floyd. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, electronic or mechanical, without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

ISBN 978-0-9787967-2-3

Published by NOJ Publications

P. O. Box 9405

Berkeley, CA 94709

www.anjuellefloyd.com

Printed in the United States of America

All hold regret, and are seeking forgiveness.

Our salvation rests in the hands of others, most particularly the ones whom we love most, and who have treated us wrongly.

Chapter 1

Anna entered the office lined with cherry wood walls and built-in bookshelves, that of her attorney, Henderson Felterfield and marched straight to his secretary.

“Is Edward here yet?” She tapped her fingers on Claire’s desk. Claire was on the phone. Halting her conversation, she placed her hand over the mouthpiece.

“Frieda’s on the other line with him. Something’s come up.”

“Not again,” Anna whispered. She ran her fingers through her hair, which had started to break. She needed to get a perm but funds were running short. “This has got to stop.”

For the past year, Edward and his attorney had fought Anna’s request for a divorce. Edward had cancelled three times in the last month of the proceedings. As a result, her realtor had lost potential buyers for the house she and Edward had shared.
Time is money
and money is time.
That’s what Edward, also a realtor, always said. Now, as Anna’s soon-to-be ex-husband, he was squandering away her time and money. Anna had entered the divorce process certain that Edward would welcome the end of their marriage. Now, fifteen months later she had grown weary of fighting to sell the house.

Anna was making her way to the leather sofa when her attorney walked up.

“I need to speak with you,” Henderson said.

She followed him into his office. He closed the door behind them. “Edward’s stalling again,” Anna said. “What reason has he given this time for not wanting to sell the house?” At age fifty-six, Anna had decided to move to the south of France. The only thing holding her back was the sale of the house in which she had raised their four children.

“We’ve got a problem,” Henderson said. The morning sunlight enlivened his red tie and brown suspenders that were set against a white shirt and navy trousers. “David has retained an attorney. He’s asserting that you’re insane.”

“The only insanity in my life is Edward. And now my eldest child has become like his father—only able to think of his own needs and desires.”

“David’s suing me, too,” Henderson said. “He’s claiming that I’m exploiting your debilitated mental state.” Thirty-three-year old David Manning had interned at Henderson’s firm his first year out of law school.

Anna sighed.

“The suit is bogus,” Henderson said. “David knows he can’t get anywhere.”

“But it’s one more holdup. I
have
to get my house sold. I’m un employed and running out of money.” Again, Anna tore her fingers through her hair.

“The house is not yours yet. Edward still owns half.”

“Then why isn’t David suing
him
?”

“Because
you’re
seeking the divorce.”

“Where the hell was he with his legal skills when his father was having all of those affairs?” Anna said.

“He was a child.”

Henderson drew close. His almond eyes set within his mahogany face softened. “David loves his father. He loves you, too. This lawsuit is his way of reacting. But, I don’t think it was his idea.”

“You’re not going to tell me that Theo, Linda, and Serine are in this.”

“If you ask me, Serine’s behind it,” Henderson said. “I think she and David have done this with Edward’s blessings.” Anna’s youngest child, twenty-seven-year-old Serine, was a district attorney for Los Angeles County.

“Serine, of all people, should know how Edward’s behavior has hurt us. All those nights away, the long, unexplained trips. She was the last one to leave home. I can’t believe—”

“Regardless of all his philandering, Edward gave your children a good life. They saw him coming home to you. He was never violent or given to drink. You never spoke ill of him—”

“So, whose side are you on?”

“Yours, as always.”

Anna clenched her jaw.

“I’ll talk to David, check out my suspicions, but—”

“What about our meeting today?” Anna was coming unhinged. “How does Edward plan to use this
bogus
suit to fight the divorce, if he even shows up?”

“I’m not sure. But—”

Henderson’s phone buzzed. He picked up the receiver.

“Yes ... uh huh.” A quizzical look formed on his rich, dark face. “Okay. Take him and Mr. Withers to the meeting room. We’ll be right there.” He clicked off and turned to Anna. “That was Frieda. Edward and Bryce have arrived.” Henderson’s eyes glistened. “Ed ward’s also signed the divorce papers. Claire’s making copies.”

Anna’s fingers grew cold.

Inside the conference room, Anna took her seat next to Henderson. Edward and his attorney, Bryce Withers, sat across from them. Edward gave Anna a faint smile then turned to Bryce who slid the open folder to Henderson. “As you can see, everything’s signed,” Bryce said.

Henderson began inspecting the documents.

Anna met Edward’s gaze. Aside from the shock of his having acquiesced to the divorce, she noted tiredness in his movements. He seemed mournful.

“Everything’s in order,” Henderson said as he closed the folder. “And what about the house?”

Edward’s shoulders slumped. His ruddy cheeks, normally full of fire and energy, lacked the red undertone that had so attracted Anna three and half decades ago. Her hands lay in her lap underneath the table. She pulled at her fingers. This is not like him. Something’s wrong.

“I’ve signed over the house to Anna,” Edward said. “It’s hers.” Anna forced a swallow. In Edward’s face was a sense of subdued penitence and clarity.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” she asked.

Henderson reached underneath the table and grabbed her hand to silence her. “When will we have the deed?” he asked.

“Claire’s copying them as we speak,” Bryce said. “I’ll file them once we leave or—”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll submit it along with the divorce papers,” Henderson offered. “I’m heading to the courthouse.” He checked his watch. “I should be there in an hour.” He gave a cordial smile, something Anna hadn’t seen in the fifteen months of meetings.

Henderson stood and assisted her to join him. Bryce, then Ed ward, did the same.

“I’m glad we could work things out.” Bryce reached across the table and shook Henderson’s hand.

Edward extended his palm across the table toward Henderson, and said, “I’ve also spoken with David. He’ll be withdrawing the lawsuit.”

Refusing Edward’s handshake, Henderson lifted the folder and said, “I’m going to file these.” He left the room.

Bryce followed. The door closed. Edward proceeded to leave. “Is everything alright?” Anna asked.

“Everything’s fine.” He turned and flashed a weak smile. His hand reached for the doorknob.

Groping to understand Edward’s change of tactic, she parted her lips to speak, but he had slipped out the door.

Back in his office, Henderson closed the folder.

“Everything’s as it should be, all as we requested.”

“I’m worried about Edward.” The flatness of Anna’s words slid over her.

“
My
concern is you. I’m glad to see this come to an end, which happens when I file your set of the divorce papers.” Henderson lifted the folder, checked his watch. “Eleven o’clock. If I leave right now, I can make it to the courthouse in time to have lunch by 12:30. Want to join me?”

Anna remained dazed by the turn of events.

Henderson walked from behind his desk, came around and leaned upon the front edge of the desk.

“Edward’s behavior is not that unusual. I’ve seen this happen even in cases not involving divorce.” He folded his arms.

Anna met the firm and impressive demeanor of Henderson’s slim face molded around eyes perpetually hung in stolid sadness. She had not wanted to involve him in the messiness of her and Edward’s private foibles. Yet, she had needed someone to trust, an attorney who would rein in the drama that was certain to erupt, and defend her with ultimate discretion. She had also wanted an attorney who respected Edward.

“Something’s not right,” she said.

“That may be. I have no idea why Edward chose to back down, and so abruptly,” Henderson said. “But—”

“So you agree with me? This is out of character, even for Edward?”

Arms still folded, Henderson leaned closer. “There could be a million reasons why Edward changed his plan of attack. Perhaps he feels this is a battle he would do well to surrender.”

Nausea ran through Anna. Henderson then said, “I can’t believe he saw much prudence in David’s decision to sue me—or you for that matter.”

“Do you think David threatened to sue him, too, maybe his way of forcing us to stop the proceedings?”

Henderson walked to the coat rack beside the door, removed his jacket, and slid his arm into a sleeve. “We could have a wonderful discussion about this over lunch. Come up with an inordinate number of ideas as to why Edward has abandoned this cause.” He buttoned his navy jacket.

“You think he has another motive?” A sense of dread glued Anna to the chair. It troubled her to think that Henderson didn’t trust or accept Edward’s actions. “You think he’s up to something?”

“With Edward Manning, you never know.” Henderson helped her up. They walked out the door, Henderson closing it behind them. “I think we need to be careful.”

Again he checked his watch. “Meet me at Cesar’s in an hour. It’ll take me twenty minutes to reach the courthouse. If my friend is there,” he tapped the folder tucked underneath his arm, “this will get placed at the top of the pile.” Henderson Felterfield was known for his multi-level connections that simplified tasks requiring other attorneys what seemed like an act of congress.

Edward maintained those same types of connections. One of those had been with Henderson Felterfield, who until five years earlier, had served as Edward’s expert on attorneys. Edward had sought Henderson’s counsel when deciding which lawyers he would choose to oversee the various national and international real estate transactions Manning Real Estate handled. Henderson and Edward had also been good friends.

When considering Henderson to represent her in the divorce, Anna had asked him the reason for his and Edward’s parting of the ways, both professionally and socially. “I didn’t like the way he was treating you,” Henderson had said. “I’ve always respected Edward’s business acumen and all that he’s accomplished in our community. But you deserved better. I told Edward that.”

It hurt Anna to know that Edward’s colleagues had seen through the pastiche of their marriage. Yet, Henderson’s intimate knowledge on Edward Manning made him the only person, in Anna’s eyes, to represent her. They were African-Americans whose parents frowned upon divorce and saw it as a personal, social, and financial failure. Both parties lost when going their separate paths, much of what was sacrificed materially, emotionally, and spiritually never recovered.

“I’ll be back in about two hours.” Henderson informed Claire. “I’m going to the courthouse then lunch.”

He and Anna walked out of the office and toward the elevator. The doors parted. Anna stepped inside. Henderson joined her.

“I don’t want you to file the papers,” Anna said once the doors were closed. Henderson’s mahogany face went blank, and took on an ominous look of confusion. The muscles in his neck flexed. “Give me two hours, at least until four o’clock,” Anna said.

“Three.” Henderson held up three fingers. “I’ll give you until three. By that time,
I’ll
have figured out what Edward’s up to.”

Delivering the documents an hour before the courthouse closed would allow Henderson’s friend ample time to work her miracle, a service for which Anna felt certain Henderson quite adequately compensated the young woman.

The elevator stopped. The doors opened. Anna stepped out into the ground lobby.