A New Attitude. Charlotte Hughes
get your sorry self in here right this minute!” Debbie shouted at the top of her lungs. “Marilee, sit down before you fall down.”
Marilee took a chair next to the front door in case she needed to make a quick getaway.
Irby appeared, looking sheepish. “Gee, Marilee, I’m sorry. I was just—”
“Just having a little fun, right?” Debbie snapped, causing Bennie to cry. “It’s not a damn bit funny, Irby, and I wouldn’t blame Marilee if she told you to shove the job up your behind.” She looked at Marilee. “Honey, do you need smelling salts?”
Marilee shook her head, feeling foolish now that she realized the skeleton wasn’t real. Nevertheless, it was a cruel trick on Irby’s part. She tossed him a menacing look.
“I should clobber you.”
“Go ahead and punch him,” Debbie said. “Lord knows he deserves it.” She tried to comfort the squalling child, even as she continued shouting at her husband. “This is a funeral home, not a playground!”
Irby looked contrite. “I promise it won’t happen again, Marilee. Do you still want the job?”
Marilee regarded him. He truly looked pitiful standing there. “I’ll take the job on a temporary basis, but if you try that sort of thing with me again you’ll be looking for a new assistant.”
Irby nodded, shamefaced. “How soon can you start?”
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS A WELL-KNOWN FACT that Tate Radford was the best lawyer in Chickpea. Luckily, he’d had a cancellation; otherwise, Marilee would have had to wait three weeks to get an appointment.
She chose a smart navy suit for the occasion. It wasn’t pure linen, but one would have been hard-pressed to prove it, because it certainly looked like the real McCoy. Her navy heels wore a designer label and would have cost a fortune if she hadn’t found them in a consignment shop. The outfit gave her a look of sophistication—at least she hoped so, because she needed all the confidence she could muster.
She’d spent a sleepless night worrying about Josh. Marilee was sure that below his anger lay a feeling of loneliness and desolation, but how could she convince him to reach out to her? She was an emotional wreck just thinking about it. No mother wanted her child to suffer, but she couldn’t allow herself to fall apart, not when she was putting plans in motion to get him back.
Later, when all this was behind her and she had a little time on her hands, she would allow herself the mother of all nervous breakdowns.
“Mrs. Abernathy, you can go in now,” the young receptionist called out, startling Marilee from her thoughts. “Second door on the left.”
“Thank you.” Marilee stood and smoothed her skirt into place. Tucking her handbag under one arm, she proceeded down a short hall, gulping in air as she went. The door opened and a tall, angular man stepped out.
“Mrs. Abernathy, I’m Tate Radford.” He offered his hand and they shook before he led her inside his office.
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Marilee said, realizing she had taken in too much air and now felt dizzy. It would be just her luck to hyperventilate in the man’s office.
“Please sit down,” he said, motioning to a chair. Seating himself on the other side of his desk, he gave her an odd look. “Mrs. Abernathy, are you okay? You look pale.”
She nodded. “I’m fine. This is my first time, you see. Not the first time I’ve been in a lawyer’s office, of course. I had to deal with my parents’ attorney after my mother passed on, but that’s neither here nor there. This is my first…uh…divorce.”
He looked sympathetic. “Do you think there’s a chance of reconciliation?”
Marilee was surprised by the question. Even if Grady wanted her back, which wasn’t likely, now that he had a woman who probably knew more positions than Dr. Ruth, how would she ever trust him again? He had betrayed her, not only as her husband, but by throwing away all they’d believed in, the very foundation of their marriage. He’d turned his back on his family and work because he’d lusted for another woman, simple as that. Worse, Grady’d taken their son into that woman’s house, where he and LaFonda were living without benefit of marriage. Not that Grady was free to marry at this point, mind you, but he could have waited, instead of flaunting the affair.
“Mrs. Abernathy?”
Marilee looked up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Radford. This has been one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever made, and believe me, I’ve spent every waking hour thinking about it. The answer to your question is no. I do not want a reconciliation. I never thought I’d say this, but I want to get out of this marriage as quickly as possible. And I want my son with me so he can live a normal life. I sense he’s very troubled, and he needs guidance. He won’t find it where he is presently living.” She paused to catch her breath. “I guess you were just expecting a simple yes-or-no answer, huh?”
“I want my clients to feel comfortable talking to me, Mrs. Abernathy. Is your husband, by chance, Reverend Grady Abernathy from Chickpea Baptist Church?”
“He was, but he was asked to leave.”
“That might prove helpful to our case.” Tate pulled a yellow legal pad from his desk drawer. “I’d like to jot down a few notes if you don’t mind. Now, you say your husband is living with a woman. Do you know her name?”
“LaFonda Bonaire. At least that’s what she calls herself. Her real name is Betty Clump.”
“So you can prove your husband is committing adultery?”
“Yes. They’re living in her mobile home in Tall Pines Trailer Park.”
“And he has your son? How old is the boy?”
“Fifteen. His name is Josh.”
Tate sat back in his chair and regarded her. “Do you think your husband took Josh against his will?”
Marilee looked at her hands. “I don’t know what to think, Mr. Radford. My son has been going through a rebellious stage for some time now. Our relationship was strained before he left. He may very well have gone on his own.” It wasn’t easy for her to admit that, even to herself.
“I have teenagers myself, Mrs. Abernathy. I think divorce is hard on kids at any age, but it seems to hit them hardest in the teen years. Also, the boy probably has more freedom living with his dad, and when you’re a teenager that seems to matter more than anything. Have you tried talking to him?”
Marilee told him about her trip to the school. “He wouldn’t even look at me.”
“He’s probably ashamed of what he’s done. Frankly, I don’t know why your husband wants the boy there in the first place. Seems like it would crowd the love nest.”
Marilee shrugged. “Maybe he feels less guilty this way.”
Tate folded his hands across his stomach. “I’ll level with you, Mrs. Abernathy. It won’t be easy getting your son back if he prefers being with his dad. After all, he’s old enough to decide with whom he wishes to live. If he were younger, you’d have no problem getting custody. As it stands, you’ll have to fight, and that’s going to cost money.”
Marilee shifted in her chair. “How much?”
“First we have to prove, without a doubt, that your husband is living with this Miss Bonaire. I can hire a private investigator to spend a couple of nights watching the place, get your husband’s comings and goings on video. As for your son, I’d advise you to hire a child advocate, someone who will do a home study of both residences and decide the best interests of your child. You’re looking at a cost of several thousand dollars, plus my retainer, which is fifteen hundred. Now, if we get into a custody battle, my bill is going to be substantially