X - "Mr. Livingston, I Presume"
1555 Words
The western breeze was warm as it swept through the park. We made use of the walking track that wound its way through the trees. Jessi and Tammi were about two dozen paces ahead of Becca and me, the better so they couldn’t hear us talk.
“So, do you know a good divorce lawyer?” Becca, watching the girls as she asked me.
“You’re joking, right? How would I know any? It’s not like I’ve had the inclination to go shopping for one before today.”
“Touché…”
I sat down on a bench that had the view of the entire park so I could keep track of Jessi and Tammi. Becca sat down next to me. We watched as they made their circuit around the track.
“What about you, hon? Do you have any lawyers on your contact list?”
“Actually, I do... His office is in Dallas. The only problem is I ended that almost two years ago. I mean, he knew what I was going for and what would eventually happen, but… He got in his feelings, hard, over the break-up. It’s not like I didn’t warn him.” She shrugged indifferently.
“Do you think he would be willing to help me?”
“I’m not sure to be honest. He was pretty hurt at the time. You would think that a divorce lawyer would be able to handle something as simple as a f**k-buddy break-up better than he did.”
I just looked at her. “How do you keep finding these people in the first place? One would think you would’ve made your way through the whole town by now.”
“Come on now! A girl’s entitled to some secrets isn’t she?”
“That’s what I’m talking about! How have you not been declared the w***e of Babylon by Mrs. Grundy?”
“Oh, that one’s easy. I’m picky about who I take to bed with me. When I do find someone, I tell them that I demand absolute discretion and that I don’t want to hear someone I don’t know with my name in their mouth. There are also some threats of whips and chains as a consequence of them kissing and telling, maybe even the death of their firstborn.” She turned to look at me and smiled, winking to let me know she was joking.
“Please tell me you keep those put away.” I returned her wink.
“Of course. What kind of kinky, oversexed, love goddess do you take me for? I hid them this morning before the girls got up.”
“Love goddess… Really?” My eyes rolled. “Could you send me his number, please. Also, do you remember when his office opens?”
She fiddled in her contacts list for a few seconds before the ping of a text message buzzed my phone. I opened it quickly: Howard Livingston, Lawyer. Then she sent me a link to a search engine. I just shook my head as I entered “Howard Livingston Dallas” into the search bar.
***
Monday morning, after I had gotten the girls squared away at their school, I walked up the stairs leading into the office park Where Mr. Livingston had his practice. I looked at the directory near the front door and quickly found his suite number then followed the signs, leading me in the right direction. I took a deep breath before I opened the door to his reception area.
The decor was in bold reds, pinks, greens, and yellows speckled across the walls in a vivid floral design. Hanging all over from the ceiling were hanging vines and a planter sitting on the receptionist's desk held an array of various succulents. It felt like I was stepping into a small jungle. The receptionist, a tall slender brunette in her early thirties, wore a dark blue dress and round, black-rimmed glasses.
“Hello. Are you Mrs. Castellan? Mr. Livingston’s eleven o’clock appointment?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Please have a seat. He’s currently on the phone with another client. Would you like something to drink while you wait?”
I declined her offer, saying that I was fine, and sat down in the chair closest to the door leading to the back. A few minutes later, Mr. Livingston appeared, greeting me before he ushered me into his office. He sat down in his dark green leather desk chair. I looked him over before sitting on the couch that sat across from his desk. He was tall with broad shoulders, salt and pepper hair, handsome features, and dark blue eyes. I could see why Becca had pulled him out of the herd.
Before anything could be said, I held up my finger and pulled out my phone. I had the video queued up, so I just unlocked it and pressed play. He sat quietly as he watched. When it was done, he took a longer look in my eyes.
“Mrs. Castellan? I take it that this is your husband shown in this video?”
“Yes, that’s Derrick.”
“And how long have you been married?”
“Approximately sixteen years. We’ve been together for almost nineteen.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Yes… It is…”
“Any children?”
“Two daughters: Jessica is fifteen. Tamara just turned twelve.”
He looked at me for a long while, scrutinizing my face before asking, “So, tell me Mrs. Castellan, What can I do for you?”
“I would like to file for divorce as quickly as possible.”
“Is this the first incident of his infidelity?”
"I wouldn't know. It’s the first time I've caught him."
“Can you tell me a bit more about why you want a divorce? I sense that it’s not just him getting his rocks off with a stripper.”
Here we go… Mentally, I prepared to go through what I rehearsed. Some of the things I was about to say I had not even told to members of my own family.
“He’s a very jealous man. Any time he would catch me looking in another man’s general direction, he would note it down and use it as ‘proof’ later that I’m sleeping around behind his back. The hypocrisy in this situation is not lost on me. Usually these tirades of his end up getting violent. Such as a few nights before.”
Do you have evidence or a record of domestic violence reports with the police or friends, neighbors, or family that would support your case?”
I took out a wet wipe out of my purse and scrubbed off the makeup that concealed the large angry bruise, now starting to turn brown, Derrick had given me when he backhanded me with a closed fist high on my cheekbone. He sucked air through his teeth and winced as he examined it. He called out to his secretary to get a camera and took down documentation of it.
“Rebecca Reiner, my best friend, well, she’s my only friend really. She’s the only one that he would allow to come to the house. In retrospect, it might have been because he wanted to f**k her too because she’s pretty. As for official reports? There are none, because I never called the police. He is… was… will soon not be… my husband. He provided for me and my daughters admirably, despite his temper. Now I find out he’s a philanderer as well. Something I can’t be sure of having started much earlier. It was after the first year of our marriage when he started to get… rough.”
“Ma’am, are you telling me that you have been dealing with this for fifteen years on your own? No familial support and only one friend with whom to confide in? I’m not going to cite cases, but it does happen often. Have you confronted him about any of this?”
“I haven’t, yet. After I followed him that night, I went to Becca’s and she offered to let my daughters and I stay there for a while. We’ve been there since Friday night. It was Thursday when he gave me this bruise. I must admit, he’s given me worse in the past. Some examples I’d rather not get into.”
“Mrs. Castellan, I would like to represent your case. With that being said, there are a few things I think I should tell you first. Now, have you ever looked into hiring a divorce attorney before? In cases like these, they can get messy, to say the least. I suspect he’s going to get downright nasty. You’re going to need someone who can get right down to his level and beat him at his own game with more experience. I personally don't come cheap, but you’re friends with Becca. I’ll work with you. If she’s your best friend, then you’re in good company with her.”
Becca sure seems to have made a big impression with him… He reached his right hand out to me, offering to shake my hand,
“Do you accept me as your attorney?”
I shook his hand, grip firm.
“I accept.”
- Writer
