Aftertaste - Meredith Mileti [56]
“Where are you going?” he asks.
Where am I going?
“I don’t know, Jake, but it looks like jail at the moment. I’ll be sure to send you my forwarding address.”
He flinches. “Listen, Mira, that’s why I’m here. I never meant things to go this far. I don’t want you to go to jail. It isn’t fair to you or to Chloe.”
“Well, Jake, exactly what part did you think was fair to us? Leaving me for Nicola? Abandoning your only child? Cutting me out of Grappa?” He looks stricken, as if I’ve slapped him.
“Cutting you out of Grappa? You had a fair shot, Mira! It was your prop—Wait, I’m not going to do this. I didn’t come here to argue with you,” he says, raising his hands to cover his eyes, as if he can’t trust himself to look at me.
“So, why did you come here then? What more could you possibly want from us?”
“I came here to offer you a compromise. I want Grappa. But I can’t afford to pay you what you want and continue to pay child support.”
“But you agreed to the price!”
“I know. I know. But it isn’t that simple, as I think you know.” He raises one eyebrow and flashes me a disgusted look. “Ethan’s plan to help finance the deal was to file a civil suit against you, on Nicola’s behalf, seeking damages for your assault on her. She went through a very rough time and still isn’t over it. I didn’t want to go along with that, but I didn’t know what else to do. Now Ethan is pressuring us to press these other charges partially for the leverage it will give us in the civil lawsuit.”
I let Jake’s words wash over me. A civil suit on top of everything else? The whole offer to pay me the extra money was part of a ploy? I’m so overwhelmed that, for once, my reliable temper has failed to ignite. I sink into the sofa.
“Look,” Jake says. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve found another alternative. The money is no longer as much of an issue. I just want this to be over. Ethan tells me you’re offering to leave New York. If I can convince Nicola to drop all of the charges and claims against you, make this whole Order of Protection violation go away, will you just . . .” He lets the sentence hang there, as if I’ll somehow understand the perversity of his suggestion without his having to sully himself by uttering the words.
But I refuse to spare him. I stare up at him, our eyes locked in a grim face-off until Jake is forced to turn away. I suppose I should find it encouraging, evidence that he has some remaining scruples, that he can’t look me in the eye as he gathers the courage to sell his daughter.
“We will drop all charges and claims against you if you agree to leave New York for at least six months, grant an immediate divorce, and forego all child support.” He says this quickly, as if he has rehearsed it many times, and exhales deeply once he’s finished. “You still walk away with well over a million dollars, plenty of money to take care of you and Chloe until you decide what you want to do next. I’m not going to try to be an involved father, Mira. You’re free to walk away. Go away. I’ll relinquish my parental rights, if that’s what you want. She doesn’t need to be one of those messed up kids with two families who are constantly battling each other.”
“Jesus Christ, Jake! Don’t you pretend for one minute that what you’re doing is good for her or for me. Just tell me one thing. Is it true? Is she pregnant?” He turns away and reaches for his raincoat. “I’m sorry,” is all he has to say.
A couple of hours later I make one last call to Jake. By nine thirty I’m on the phone to Jerry, telling him I want to settle and filling him in on the substance of Jake’s offer. I’m efficient and businesslike, and if Jerry is startled by my composure, by the way I have just been able to let go of everything I had fought so long and so hard to keep, he doesn’t let on.
“Mira, I think this is the best thing for you to do under the circumstances,” Jerry says. “You’re going to be fine, you know.”
“I know, Jerry.