Chapter 49

Chapter Forty-Nine

Caroline

O .M.G. It smells amazing in here," Sam says, setting her briefcase on the stool next to the kitchen island. She's risking getting flour all over it.

"Making blueberry muffins," I say, mixing the batter.

She points at something on my face and I use my tongue to lick away the bit of filling.

Sam sticks her finger in bowl, scraping the sides and polishes off the remnants. "Yum," she moans.

Rezy materializes, waiting for an offering. He's brandishing a new haircut, doing a doggie strut. I'm fairly sure he knows how gorgeous he is. I toss him a blueberry which he gobbles and then spits out. Lovely.

"You look different," Sam says and I smile in response.

I feel different. I'm healthier, happier, lighter. My decision to take the settlement offer was, in retrospect, the right one. Only one thing is missing.

I'm slowly coming to accept my future is without Calvin. The pain is still there but I'm strong enough to manage it. Even if I think of him every day. Ten times a day.

I hope he's juggling parenthood and work well enough. I spotted him once on the opposite side of Seventy-Second Street when I was walking Rezy. Calvin was holding Chacha's hand, heading to the park. I stood frozen in place, watching them skipping side-by-side. All I wanted to do was run over there and join them. But my legs wouldn't move.

I remove the first batch of muffins from the oven, letting them cool. Then Sam and I get to work on the fundraiser. Her ideas are terrific and I tell her to go forward with all of them. It's going to be the most epic gala to date. I make a mental note to rummage through my closet for an appropriate dress. Sam, of course, would laugh in my face. She's seen my closets filled with glamorous gowns, the tags still on them. But I've been thinking about downsizing and donating many of the dresses. Okay, maybe selling them on consignment. I need to build up a nest egg. I give myself a mental pat on the back for being budget-minded.

An hour later, Sam is packing up her things. Rezy is lounging lazily on the window seat, fascinated by pigeons perched on the budding tree outside.

"See you at yoga in the morning?" Sam asks, buttoning up her pea coat.

I say I'll be there, pack up three muffins and hand them over for Sam and her kids. "Wish me luck in court."

"Fingers crossed."

Given the substantial amounts in question, my lawyer, Howard, instructed me to show up in court to sign a no-contest in front of the judge. I don't want any surprises, like Josh deciding he now also wants the apartment.

Sam rounds the island and hugs me. "I'm so incredibly proud of you."

"For what?"

"Rolling with the punches and coming out better than before."

I hug her back. These last few months have brought us closer. I still miss Evie terribly but Sam is filling some of the hole in my heart.

Minutes after she leaves, my phone buzzes with a message from Paul.

I type back, I'll be down in thirty.

I shower quickly, and dress in a conservative Gucci business suit, silk white shirt and Manolo heels that shout power woman. I'm going to see my nemeses, dressed to the nines.

The car is idling downstairs and immediately I notice the change in the air. Spring is making a showing. I wonder what Sugarbush Falls looks like this time of year.

Paul is on the phone, speaking more animatedly than I've ever seen. He must sense my approach and ends the call. I slip into the backseat before he can get the door for me. He's no spring chicken anymore.

As Paul pulls into traffic, I have a tingling feeling up my arms. I've always hated courthouses. They scream dispute and discord. We drive past the Museum of Natural History, heading south when something occurs to me.

Today begins a new chapter in my life and I'm at peace with it. I'm ready to welcome a simpler existence, maybe even ready to embrace middle age. Sort of.

Paul catches my smile in the rearview mirror but stays on brand, remaining silent and steadfast.

We drive by the Museum of Ice Cream and I ponder how one goes about preserving mint chip from the 1800s. We are soon met with block after block of courthouses. Now that we're here, I feel none of the anxiety I expected.

"Ready?" Paul asks, stopping in front of the courthouse on Lafayette St. I tell him I am, thank him and step out onto the sidewalk.

Game on.

The entire episode is far less dramatic than anything I've seen on Judge Judy. If you don't count running into Bernard's ex-wife in the ladies' room where she gives me the evil eye. Someone needs to tell the shrew it's impossible to be intimidating when toilet paper is stuck to your shoe.

We ignore each other on our way to a drab room down the hall from the actual courtroom. Howard is there waiting for me, clad in a sharp pin-striped suit. I sit beside him.

The ex-wife joins Rachel and Josh who are seated on the opposite side of the table with their counsel. A woman around my age sits in the middle. The judge.

Rachel meets my eye and nods solemnly. Josh is looking everywhere but at me. I wonder what Bernard would think of this spectacle.

The proceeding goes smoothly enough. Why shouldn't it? I'm not putting up a fight.

Midway through, I'm surprised by a concession they've made—what the paperwork refers to as a stipend. I'll be given a modest lump sum to help with the financial transition. The offer was never discussed before. At least not with me. I've already accepted the fact that if I want to fill the fridge, I'll need to get a job. I've been putting out feelers for weeks. I'm not qualified for much these days but hopefully one of my leads will pan out.

When we're finished, Josh and his mother leave. Rachel wishes me well and exits before I can reply.

Howard asks, "Are you okay, Mrs. Page?"

If ever there was a time to call me Caroline and drop the Page part, this is it. I considered going back to my maiden name but in the end, it's one of the few things Bernard left me. And it has a nice ring to it.

I tell him I'm fine then ask about the unexpected funds.

Howard raises a brow. "He didn't tell you?"

I have no idea who Howard is referring to and say as much.

"Your driver gave Bernard's kids a mouthful this morning, told them their father would be ashamed of their behavior."

" What? "

Howard nods. "I happened to be standing nearby in the hallway and could hear him shouting through the phone. Ten minutes later, their attorney approached me with the stipend addendum. I scrambled to add it to the settlement."

I'm flabbergasted. Not only by what he's telling me Paul accomplished on my behalf—something my own attorney couldn't pull off—but the fact that in all the time I've known him, I never once heard Paul raise his voice. Paul does not shout.

I stand, thanking Howard.

"One more thing you may be interested to know."

"Yes?"

"Josh offered to employ Paul at his regular salary."

"I see." I'm happy for Paul but sad at the same time. I'll miss him, terribly.

"Thanks for letting me know." I'm stepping away when Howard adds, "He declined. Said he'd rather work for you for free. You should have seen Josh's face. Priceless."

I grin broadly, I can't help it. The image of Josh in a state of utter shock is a maraschino cherry atop the stipend cake. I thank Howard once more, text Paul, and head to the nearest exit.

Paul is standing by the car, his hand on the back door handle. His gaze reveals concern. "I hope all went well," he says.

I ignore the car and wrap my arms around him. My trusted friend. "Thank you," I whisper in his ear.

He pats my upper back, then kisses my temple, like a loving dad. It's one of the few times he's shown unfettered affection. I'm loving every second. After a few beats, we break apart and resume our normal places in the car.

We drive for several minutes when I realize we're not heading north. We're still in Lower Manhattan.

"Paul, where are we going?"

"A quick detour, madam."

Paul is up to something. Again.

He turns at the next corner. "May I speak freely, Mrs. Page?"

"By all means."

We arrive at another courthouse and he cuts the engine, pausing as if trying to fit the right words together. It's strange having a conversation where you can only see the other person's eyes in the rearview mirror but I suspect Paul prefers things this way.

"I would like to continue driving you where you need to go, paid or not. I'll keep my promise."

The car feels like a confessional. Which would make me the priest. I don't tell him that I already know what happened with Josh. "The promise to Bernard?"

He nods.

Paul has mentioned the infamous promise several times since Bernard's passing but I sense he has more to share. He's been acting out-of-character since collecting me this morning.

"The day before you married, Bernard and I had a couple of beers at a pub we frequented."

"The one in Bensonhurst?"

"That's right."

Paul turns his head to the side, looking off into the distance and I see his hard-scrabble profile. "I never saw him happier. As you know, his previous marriage was loveless. Contentious at times."

I'm riveted. Bernard spoke little about his ex. He simply referred to her as ‘the previous administration.'

Paul says, "He made me swear to look after you, in case something should ever happen to him."

I feel a warmth in my gut and a tear spring to my eye. I blink it away. "You've been keeping that promise since the day he died and I can't thank you enough. You were a great friend to him. He loved you like a brother."

The ensuing silence tells me Paul is fighting to contain himself. I know how much the two men meant to each other.

He clears his throat. "The promise is not yet fulfilled."

I have a feeling I know what he's about to say. My heart is in my throat.

"You love him," Paul says, softly.

He is speaking in the present tense. This is no longer about Bernard. He means Calvin.

Paul has never involved himself in my personal life. Yet, in one morning, he's scored a better settlement for me, dissed Bernard's son, and is discussing my love life. I'm okay with all of it.

"At first, I was wary of your new beau. But the more I think about it, I'm certain Bernard would like him . . . for you."

I sigh. "Calvin and my lives are too different now."

"Maybe not as much as you think."

I look out the window at the gray stone building. "Why are we here, Paul?"

"Room 105."

I feel a prickle of nerves. I can guess what is happening inside the building. "Okay."

I step out, my suspicions confirmed by the plaque in the lobby.

Room 105 is listed as Family Court. In small letters I find the words that bring a flutter to my belly. I take a deep breath and hurry down the hallway.

To adoption services.