The Ditto List Read Online Free PDF Page B

if money is the measure.”
    â€œWas he rich when you married him?”
    She shook her head. “He had to borrow money to buy the ring.” She looked down at her hand, at the thin gold band that lived there. “He kept wanting to buy me a diamond after he made his money,” she mused quietly. “I kept thinking it was important to keep wearing the ring he gave me when he proposed. When we were poor and struggling. I guess it wasn’t important enough.”
    She cried silently. D.T. had long ago learned better than to try to interfere. “How much do you want?” he asked when she stopped.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œCome now, Mrs. Stone. I’m sure you know something about the law. You’re entitled to half the assets accumulated during marriage, and if there wasn’t any money in the beginning all the assets you have are presumptively marital. Unless he inherited a bundle or unless you have money of your own.”
    She shook her head. “Neither of those.”
    â€œDid you live together before marriage?”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œThat can increase the marital period and entitle you to more money.”
    She sighed. “We were very proper. Apparently even that was a mistake.” She fingered her hair absently. “It’s very difficult for me to think of this in terms of money, Mr. Jones. I mean, I know I have rights, and I want to assert them, but it’s like putting a price on fifteen years of life. Of love. And I always believed love was priceless.” She started to smile at the cliché, then to say something else, then stopped and closed her eyes.
    â€œIn this jurisdiction love goes for about two hundred bucks a month per year of marriage, Mrs. Stone,” D.T. said, loosely calculating an alimony formula employed by at least one judge in the southside division. “What does your husband do for a living?”
    â€œHe’s an investment advisor.”
    â€œWith a firm?”
    â€œHe has his own business.”
    â€œWhat’s his income, roughly?”
    â€œEighty thousand last year. Or so he said to someone. Lately, most of what I know about Chas has come through eavesdropping. And of course he might have been boasting.”
    â€œHow do you contribute to the business?”
    â€œNot at all, I suppose. At least that’s what Chas would say.”
    â€œNever entertained any clients?”
    â€œOnly a few hundred. I’ve made barrels of paté in my day.” She smiled sadly. “And I just hate paté.”
    â€œNever packed his bag for trips or drove him to the airport at six a.m.?”
    â€œSeveral times. Yes. I get the point, and I do feel entitled to something … tangible out of all this. I mean, it’s not that Chas doesn’t have enough for both of us.”
    â€œGood,” D.T. said. “I may not get you what you’re entitled to, but I can get you enough to keep you off relief and make him afraid of going on it.” He walked to the file cabinet and opened the second drawer from the bottom. “I keep a bottle of brandy on hand for sipping upon the birth of an attorney-client relationship, Mrs. Stone,” he lied. “Will you join me?”
    She looked at him over her shoulder. “I … is this customary?”
    â€œCustomary drives a Mercedes and works downtown.”
    â€œWell, I suppose it’s all right. Somehow I thought you would be much more … somber somehow.”
    â€œProbate lawyers are somber; divorce lawyers are clowns. Death is serious business; the rest of it’s a joke.”
    D.T. poured into polished snifters. They both drank, eyes on each other, exchanging the silent promises that are the consideration for future services.
    â€œI’m going to ask you some questions now, Mrs. Stone,” D.T. said as he refilled her snifter and put away the bottle. “To advise you properly I must have honest responses. If I sense