Or she can move out. At once. Right this minute. If you mo expect me not to fight
this divorce, you can both show me some appreciation.’
I went to my room, got into bed, cried a little, then fell into a troubled sleep.
Half an hour later, or an hour, or longer, I was wakened by a tap on my door. `Yes?’
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`It’s Marian, Mama. May I come in?’
‘Certainly; darling!’
She came in, closed the door behind her; looked at me, her chin quivering and tears
starting. I sat up, put out my arms.
`Come to me, dear.’
That ended any trouble with Marian. But not quite with Brian. The following weekend
he pointed out that the sine gua non of an uncontested divorce was a property
settlement agreed to by both parties. He had fetched home a fat briefcase.
`I have the essential papers here. Shall we look them over?’
`All right’ (No use putting off a trip to the dentist.)
Brian put the briefcase down on the dining-table. `We can spread them out here.’ He
sat down.
I sat down on his left; Marian sat down opposite me. I said, ‘No, Marian, I want to
go over these in private. So you are excused, dear. And do please keep the children
out.’
She looked blank and started to stand up. Brian reached out and stopped her.
`Maureen, Marian is an interested party. Equally interested.’
‘No, she’s not. I’m sorry.’
`How do you figure?’
`What you have there, what is represented by those papers, is our community
property, yours and mine, what you and I have accumulated in the course of our
marriage. None of it is Marian’s and I don’t care to go over it in the presence of a
third party. At a later time, when she divorces you, she’ll be present at the
divvy-up and I will not be. Today, Brian, it is between you and me, no one else.’
`What do you mean? – when she divorces me.’
`Correction: if she divorces you.’ (She did. In 1966.) ‘Brian, did you fetch home an
adding machine? Oh, all I really require is a sharp pencil:
Marian caught Brian’s eye, left the room and closed the door behind her.
He said, `Maureen, why do you always have to be so rough on her?’
`Behave yourself, Briney. You should not have attempted to have her present for this
and you know it. Now… do you want to do this politely? Or shall we wait until I
can call in a lawyer?’
`I see no reason why it can’t be done politely. And even less reason why a lawyer
should look at my private business.’
‘And still less reason why your fiancée should look at mine.
Briney, stop behaving like Woodie at age six. How did you plan on whacking this up?’
‘Well, first we must plan on the marriage allotments for the kids. Seven, that is.
And Marian’s five. Six, now.’
(Each time we had rung the cash register – received a baby bounty from the Ira
Howard Foundation – Brian had started a bookkeeping account for that child, letting
that amount enhance on his books at six per cent compounded quarterly, then had
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passed on the enhanced amount to that child as a wedding present – about three times
the original baby bounty. In the meantime Brian had the use of the money as working
capital for eighteen or more years… and, believe me, Brian could always make
working capital pay more than six per cent, especially after 1918 when he had
Theodore’s predictions to guide him. Just one word – ‘Xerox’ or ‘Polaroid’ – could
mean a fortune, known ahead of time.)
‘Woops! Not out of this pile, Briney. Richard received his marriage allotment from
us when he married Marian. Her children by Richard are our grandchildren. What about
our other grandchildren? I haven’t counted lately but I think we have fifty-two. Are
you planning to subsidise ail fifty-two out of what we own today?’
`The situation is different’
‘It certainly is. Brian, you are trying to favour five of our grandchildren at the