and apologetic. He knew Harry, a divorce lawyer, only casually. People called him the Bomber. His heart sank.
'She's retained me, Rose,' Thurmont said. His voice had a gleeful note.
'I guess you're as good as any,' Oliver said gloomily. He was annoyed that she had wasted no time in getting herself legal counsel. He realized he would have to do the same.
'I think if you're reasonable we can work things out,' Thurmont said.
'I'm really not ready to talk about it.'
'I know. And I'm real sorry. Believe me, I tried to talk her out of it. That's always the first step. That's what they teach us at law school. I'm afraid she's adamant.'
'No give at all?' he muttered into the mouthpiece, instantly sorry for letting his anxiety show. 'None,' Thurmont replied.
'I don't care. I haven't cared for a long time,' she had said. It was still impossible to believe. 'Suppose she changes her mind.' 'She won't.'
'What makes you so sure?' he asked testily. 'It's gonna be a nut cutter,' Thurmont said abrupdy. 'Better cover your ass.' 'As bad as that?' 'Worse.'
'I don't understand.' 'You will.' 'When?'
Thurmont ignored the question.
'You'd better get yourself your own man quick time,' he warned. His tone was ominous.
Oliver nodded to the empty office. He knew the cardinal rule of the legal profession. Only a fool acts as his own lawyer, especially in a domestic case.
'Maybe if things cooled down a bit. . .' he began, being wishful again. Thurmont chuckled. It was the cackle of a predator and Oliver hung up. He looked at the phone in its cradle for a long time, wondering if Barbara had told the children. With shaking fingers -he had to rub them to get them to do the job - he dialed his home number. Ann answered.
'She's gone to the French Market with a new batch
'Well. ..' He started to say something. You're not part of it, he wanted to assure her.
'Is there anything you'd like me to tell her, Oliver?' 'Lots,' he answered. 'Mostly bad.' 'I'm sorry.'
It wouldn't be long, he was certain, before his wife turned her against him. The children as well. But why? If only he had some real clue to his crime. Perhaps, then, the punishment would be acceptable.
He asked one of his recently divorced colleagues for the name of a good divorce lawyer. The man, Jim Richards, answered instantly.
'Harry Thurmont.'
That's hers.'
'You poor bastard.'
He shook his head and looked at Oliver sadly. 'Run for the hills. He'll take your eyeballs.'
'I doubt that,' Oliver said. 'I expect we'll be quite civilized about it.'
'Civilized? Harry Thurmont isn't civilized. You're in the jungle now.' He thumbed through his phone book. 'Try Murray Goldstein. He's in the building. He's an ex-rabbi. You'll get lectures and lots of sympathy. You'll need it.'
'All she wants is out,' Oliver muttered. 'That's what they all say.'
He made an appointment for the same day - professional courtesy. But before he left the office he tried Barbara again, just to make sure he hadn't dreamed all this. She answered the phone.
'Still mad?' he asked gently. At what? he wondered. Hell, he thought, you don't just throw your life away. He was willing to forgive.
'I'm not mad, Oliver.'
'And you're still' - she was making him say it -'thinking about divorce.' 'Didn't Thurmont call you?'
'Yes, he did.'
'It's not a question of mad. We have a lot of practical details to iron out. The District has a no-fault provision.'
The legalese angered him. So she was already getting educated.
'God damn it, Barbara,' he began, feeling his chest heave. The memory of his hospital stay invaded his mind. 'You just can't do this.'
'Oliver, we went over that last night.' She sighed.
'Have you told the kids?'
'Yes. They had a right to know.'
'You could have at least waited for me. I mean I don't think that's quite fair.'
'I thought it was best they hear it direcdy from me, with all my reasons.'
'What about
'I'm sure you'll offer your own explanations.' She paused. 'We're not going to have needless custody problems, Oliver?' Her calm reasonableness irritated him. He felt burning begin again in his chest, a spear of pain. He spilled
