Excerpt of A Perfect Life by Patricia Kay

"I saw a lawyer today."

"Shawn! Good for you. I was afraid you might be having second thoughts." The speaker was Ann O'Brien, one of the Wednesday Night Gang, a group of friends with whom Shawn had been having Wednesday dinners for the past several years. The women always met at Callie's Corner Café, which was located on the village square in what passed for Maple Hills' downtown.

Shawn grimaced. "No. I'm definitely going ahead with the divorce. In fact, my lawyer was going to file the papers today. It's just that coping with the sale of my parents' house and trying to decide what to do with their belongings…" Even this brief reference to her parents caused her voice to break, and it took a moment to compose herself and continue. "Not to mention the problems with Lauren…hasn't left much energy for dealing with Rick…or Alexandra…so I put off taking action until now."

"Is that stupid girl still trying to patch things up with you?" Ann asked in disbelief.

Shawn nodded tiredly. "She called again this week. I thought it was Rick calling, so I had to pick up the phone. I immediately hung up when I realized it was her. I have nothing to say to her, and I don't have any interest in listening to what she has to say, either."

"The girl is totally clueless! If you're considering violence, count me in."

Everyone laughed, even Shawn. The wisecrack had come from Zoe Madison who, at thirty-nine, was the oldest member of their group. But not by much, Shawn thought. She would be there herself in a couple of months. And then forty… Fear snaked through her.

Forty and divorced.

Shawn had never imagined her life would turn out like this. When she'd married Rick, she'd envisioned them with three or four children, growing old together, welcoming grandchildren and, if they were lucky, great grandchildren. She'd dreamed of a golden wedding- anniversary party with all their family gathered round to celebrate with them. She swallowed. Now what? Would she be alone for the rest of her life?

"Hey, you okay?" Ann asked softly.

Shawn shook away her depressing thoughts. "I'm fine."

"Is Lauren still blaming you?" Carol Carbone, Ann's younger sister, gave Shawn a sympathetic look.

Shawn listlessly poked at her salad. "I'm afraid so." She sighed. "I'm still wondering if I did the right thing in not telling her why I want this divorce."

"Personally, I think you were too damned easy on Rick," Ann said. "I'd've kicked his sorry butt out the door when I first found those ticket stubs and I wouldn't have had any qualms about telling Lauren."

"I don't agree."

All five women looked at Emma Madison who, at not quite twenty-two, was the youngest member of their group.

"A girl needs to feel her father is a hero," Emma said. She avoided her mother's eyes.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence. They all knew Zoe had gotten pregnant with Emma when she was only seventeen and had never told Emma who her father was. As far as Shawn knew, Zoe had never told anyone.

"I think you did the right thing, too," Susan Pickering, the sixth and final member of the group, said, reaching over and squeezing Shawn's hand. "You took the high road, and some day, when Lauren's older, she'll understand how much you care about her."

Shawn smiled sadly. "Thanks." She hoped Susan was right.

"Which lawyer did you pick?" Zoe asked.

"Stella Vogel."

"Oh, you did call her!" Carol said.

Shawn nodded. "I did. I figured if your boss recommended her, she must be good."

Carol speared a shrimp. "John says she's the best."

"Does Lauren know?" Zoe asked.

Shawn shook her head. "Not yet." Then she made a face. "One thing at a time, you know?"

The women all murmured sympathetically. They knew Shawn had gotten a call from Lauren's English teacher, who was concerned because Lauren, who had always been an exceptional student, was falling behind in her schoolwork.

"What did Lauren say when you asked her about school?" Carol said.

Shawn shook her head. "She told me not to worry about it. That's her answer for everything nowadays. Then she said, Don't pretend you care about me. We both know better, don't we?"

"Oh, Shawn," Carol said.

Shawn wished she could wipe the memory of Lauren's hateful look and hurtful words out of her mind, but they were branded there.

"She doesn't really mean that," Susan said, "she's just trying to punish you."

Shawn nodded. On one level, she understood that was exactly what Lauren was doing. On another, she wondered if she would ever again have a loving, close relationship with her daughter.

Ann reached over and patted Shawn's hand. "Chin up, girl. This, too, shall pass."

"Yes, I know." And Shawn did know things would improve. She grimaced. They had to. After all, as things now stood, there was nowhere to go but up.

Just then Callie Hudson, the owner of the café, walked over to their table. "How're you girls doing? Need anything? Fill-ups on iced tea or coffee?" Her dark eyes were warm and friendly.

Shawn smiled and shook her head. She liked Callie. They all did. A widow, she had bought the café from the previous owner about six years earlier, using the insurance money she'd gotten upon her husband's death. Together with her twenty-three-year-old daughter, Kristie, she'd built it into the most popular gathering place in town.

Everyone said they were fine, and Callie left. Once she was gone, Susan turned to Shawn. "So what did your lawyer have to say?"

"She gave me a list of information she needs — stuff like bank accounts, savings and investments, information about Rick's retirement fund, IRAs, things like that. She also wanted to know about our health insurance coverage. Oh, and about my parents' estate."

"Your parents' estate?" Zoe said, frowning.

"Yes. Unfortunately, whatever I end up with after the closing on their house could be considered marital property since I'm still married."

"Oh, no!" This came from Ann. "That sucks." Shawn sighed. "I know. I'm hoping Rick won't try to claim any portion of the money. It's not like it's going to be a fortune. They weren't wealthy and the house, although paid for, didn't bring a great price because it needs a lot of work. It belonged to my grandparents on my father's side, so it's pretty old." She had hated having to sell the house, but there really wasn't any other choice. If her parents had had substantial savings, Shawn might have been able to keep the house, but her father had never made a lot of money. In fact, looking at just how little they did have saved, Shawn wondered how her father would ever have been able to retire.

"What about insurance?" Zoe asked.

"They just had modest policies — enough to pay off their bills and bury them. There's very little left." In fact, there hadn't even been enough to fix the most glaring problems with their house. Shawn still considered it a miracle the Realtor she'd used had been able to sell it so quickly. "I don't see how Rick could have a right to any part of your parents' estate," Zoe said.

"I'm going to let Stella worry about that," Shawn said. "I've got enough to worry about right now. Speaking of —" She looked at her watch. "I'd better be going. I told Lauren she could go study math with her friend Allison as long as she was home by nine-thirty, and it's almost that now."

The women all said goodbye and wished her luck, and Shawn left. It was a fairly short drive to the beautiful old neighborhood where Shawn and Rick had purchased their dream home eight years earlier. A stately two-story red- brick with black shutters and a double walnut front door, it sat at the crest of a sloping lawn on a quiet, shady street.

Shawn loved the house and had been fighting off the depressing thought that after the divorce she and Lauren might have to move. She prayed not, because moving, although wrenching for Shawn, would be even worse for Lauren. It was too bad her parents had lived more than two hours away or she and Lauren could just have moved into their house and at least then Lauren would have been someplace familiar and loved, someplace that wouldn't have felt alien….

Stop it. Quit wasting energy on things that aren't possible….

The house was dark when Shawn pulled into the driveway. She looked at the clock on the dash and frowned. Lauren was late.

Shawn's stomach knotted. Lately Lauren defied her on every count. If Shawn said black, Lauren said white. It didn't matter what the subject, Lauren took whatever side Shawn didn't. It was exhausting…and painful. Sometimes Shawn despaired of ever having her sweet daughter back.

The smell hit Shawn as soon as she entered the house. "Oh, no! I don't believe this."

Trixie, their chocolate Lab, whimpered from the corner of the kitchen where she was cowering. She knew she'd done something wrong.

Shawn switched on the light. Sure enough, Trixie had done her business in the middle of the hooked rug Shawn kept by the door to the mudroom. Luckily, Shawn hadn't stepped in it.

"Dammit, Lauren!" she swore. Lauren had promised to walk Trixie before leaving for Allison's house. Promised.

"I said I'd do it," she'd retorted in that snotty tone she'd adopted ever since Shawn had told her about the divorce. "You don't have to keep harping on it."

Shawn had bitten back a sigh. "I'm not harping. I'm simply reminding you that it's your responsibility to walk Trixie in the afternoons."