Against the Wind Read Online Free PDF

not a first-date lay,” she says. “You know that.”
    “That was a long time ago.” I remember it vividly.
    “Some things don’t change,” she says, almost primly. She changes the subject. “And the money’s terrific. I’m starting at seventy-two five.”
    I whistle; that’s good money, Seattle’s a major market but it’s not like New York or L.A. Until I caught fire a few years ago I wasn’t doing that well.
    “Have you ever been to Seattle?” she asks. “Of course you have,” she catches herself, “one of the seniors mentioned he knows you, you handled a case together.”
    “Joby Breckenridge,” I answer hollowly. He’s the only lawyer I know in Seattle. “Breckenridge and Hastings. Heavy-duty firm. They must have forty, fifty lawyers by now.”
    “I’ll be number fifty-four,” she confirms.
    “You’ll get lost.” This can’t be happening.
    “Of course I won’t.” She’s smiling, widely, one could almost say deliriously. “There’s only four people in my section …” here she pauses for the coup de grace … “I’ll be in charge. In two years I’ll be a partner.”
    “So when does the blessed event take place?” My head is ringing. “When does Seattle’s gain become Santa Fe’s loss?”
    “It’s going to take a while,” she says. “I promised Robertson I wouldn’t leave him high and dry. As much as six months, maybe. I could make the move over Christmas vacation. Probably then.”
    “Breckenridge isn’t champing at the bit?” I’m dying inside, how can she do this to me? It’s a conspiracy, it’s got to be, the world has collectively decided to screw me.
    “They’d like me to start tomorrow,” she replies with a touch of acid, annoyed at my sarcasm. “But they understand.”
    “How very white of them.”
    “Don’t piss on it, okay? I’ve got to do this, Will, try to understand.”
    “Does Claudia know?”
    She takes too long to answer.
    “Yes.”
    “What does she think?”
    “She doesn’t like it. That’s to be expected,” she hurries on, “all her friends are here, it’s all she’s ever known. She’ll adjust; ten-year-old kids are resilient as hell, much more than grownups.”
    “What about me? About her and me?” I hear myself whining, fuck it, what she thinks of me right now is irrelevant.
    “I know.”
    I stare at her.
    “Look,” she says, “do you think I want to separate the two of you? This is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make in my life; but I had to do it. I’m dying here.”
    She’s dying here. That’s bullshit; okay, it’s not perfect, but it’s a life. And there are men, she’s too damn picky. I’m the one who’ll die here. I’ll be one of those divorced daddies you see standing forlornly in airports on Christmases and holidays; not knowing what my child’s life is, not helping make decisions about anything basic: not being with her.
    “I have joint custody,” I say feebly.
    “She’ll be with you whenever she can. I don’t want anything to come between you two.”
    “Then don’t move.”
    She shakes her head impatiently. “It’s done, Will. Don’t guilt-trip me. I don’t deserve it.” She picks up the phone, starts dialing. “I’m calling her. It’s a beautiful day. You don’t want to waste it. Mary?” she says into the phone. “Will’s here. Send Claudia over. No, right now.”
    I walk to the door, open it. Across the street, a door opens at the same time; we’re in congruence, even in something this mundane. My daughter runs across the street, hurls herself against me. I can’t conceive of everyday life without her.
    “Time to rock ’n’ roll,” she informs me. She’s been watching too much MTV. “I’ll get my backpack.”
    She runs into the house. I turn, watching her. Her mother is watching me. I go outside. It hasn’t been my house for a long time.
    W E SPEND THE AFTERNOON fishing, on my friend Lucas’s ranch up in the mountains. Lucas is your prototypical sixties hippie who