Between Sisters - Kristin Hannah [31]
She grabbed her briefcase off the oak library table and slipped her other arm around May's waist. Linked together, they walked out of the courtroom.
“You'll pay for this, you bitch,” Dale screamed to their backs. Then something crashed against the floor.
Meghann guessed it was the other oak table.
She didn't look back. Instead, she kept a steadying hand on May's waist and led her to the elevator. In the small cubicle, they stood side by side.
The moment the door closed, May burst into tears.
Meghann held May's hand, squeezing it gently. “I know it seems impossible now, but life will get better. I promise. Not instantly, not even quickly, but it will get better.”
She led May down the courthouse steps and outside. The sky was heavy and gray with clouds. A dismal rain spit itself along the car-clogged streets. The sun was nowhere to be seen. No doubt it had followed the geese south, to places like Florida and California. It wouldn't return to western Washington full-time until after the Fourth of July.
They walked down Third Street to the Judicial Annex, the favorite lunch spot for the Family Court gang.
By the time they reached the front door, Meghann's suit was more than a little damp. Gray streaks marred the collar of her white silk blouse. If there was one accessory no local owned, it was an umbrella.
“Hey, Meg,” said a few colleagues as she walked through the restaurant to an empty table at the back. She pulled out a chair for May, then sat down opposite her.
Within moments, a harried-looking waitress was beside them. She pulled a pencil out from her ponytail. “Is this a champagne or a martini day?” she asked Meghann.
“Definitely champagne. Thanks.”
May looked across the table at her. “We aren't really going to drink champagne, are we?”
“May. You are now a millionaire. Your children can get Ph.D.s from Harvard if they want. You have a beautiful waterfront home in Medina and no mortgage payment. Dale, on the other hand, is living in a thirteen-hundred-square-foot condo in Kirkland. And you got full custody of the kids. Hell yes, we're celebrating.”
“What happened to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“My life has been hit by a Scud missile. The man I love is gone. Now I find out he might have existed only in my mind, anyway. I have to live with the fact that not only am I alone, but, apparently, I've been stupid, too. My children will have to live all their lives knowing that families break, that love is impermanent, and, most of all, that promises get broken. They'll go on, of course. That's what children and women do—we go on. But we won't ever be quite whole again. I'll have money. Big fat deal. You have money, I assume. Do you sleep with it at night? Does it hold you when you've awakened from a nightmare?”
“Did Dale?”
“A long time ago, yes. Unfortunately, that's the man I keep remembering.” May looked down at her hand. At the wedding ring on her finger. “I feel like I'm bleeding. And there you sit. Drinking champagne.” She looked up again. “What's wrong with you?”
“This can be a harsh job,” she answered truthfully. “Sometimes, the only way I can get through it is—”
A commotion broke out in the restaurant. Glass shattered. A table crashed to the floor. A woman screamed.
“Oh, no,” May breathed. Her face was pale.
Meghann frowned. “What in the—?” She turned around in her chair.
Dale stood in the open doorway, holding a gun in his left hand. When Meghann looked at him, he smiled and stepped over a fallen chair. But there was no humor in that smile; in fact, he appeared to be crying.
Or maybe that was the rain.
“Put down the gun, Dale.” She was surprised to hear the calmness in her voice.
“Your turn at the mike is over, counselor.”
A woman in a black pinstripe suit crawled across the floor. She moved slowly until she made it to the door. Then she got up and ran.
Dale either didn't notice