“I don’t think you should,” Drew said.

While Drew let his anger spill out, Michael buried his face in his arm and sobbed, probably as much from shame and humiliation as disappointment and fear.

“I don’t know how it got to this,” Beau said. “When I met your mother, she was just a sad, poor girl. I have a lot of experience with being poor. Poor doesn’t mean bad or stupid or criminal. It just means worn-out jeans and lean meals. I grew up poor and my parents were good, God-fearing, law-abiding, hardworking people. We laughed a lot, we all pitched in. Your mom was always so angry, I could never figure out how she could stand to live with that anger. And I think she had a pretty good life. Maybe not when she was a kid, but she got a pretty good education even if she didn’t finish her degree. She had a good job, a decent home, plenty of everything. And she’s beautiful. I can’t explain why all that was never enough.”

“I think it was me,” Michael said through his running nose and teary eyes. “I told her about Tim, about him getting married. I told her I was going to the wedding, that you were the best man. I told her where it was.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Beau said. “If not there, she’d have found another place. It wasn’t because of anything you said.”

“You’re the only person who ever stuck with us,” Michael said.

“We’re going to get help with this,” Beau said.

Lauren sat across the room at the breakfast bar, just listening.

“Lauren, I’m sorry,” Michael said.

“Oh darling, it wasn’t you. It was us. It was Beau and me. We married people who are selfish and controlling. We had to move on from that, of course. And divorcing them was not going to be tidy. I don’t think either of us imagined it would be this dangerous but at the end of the day, we’re not very surprised. I ended up in an emergency room. Beau was so lucky to only lose a truck. Divorce can be a terrible ordeal. We’re the ones who are sorry. You shouldn’t have to go through this.”

Early the next morning, Beau spent about a half hour on the phone with Tim. His best friend asked him if he could afford some good counseling. “I’ll manage even if I have to sell body parts,” Beau said.

“Ask at a domestic violence shelter,” Tim suggested. “Or maybe the DV unit at the police department.”

“This is the kind of thing you see on the news,” Beau said. “Not the kind of thing ordinary people have to deal with!”

“It’s a crazy, cracked world, my friend. It never hurts to also pray. I’m kind of partial to prayer.”

“Buddy, I never prayed so much in my life,” Beau said.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Pamela spent very little time in jail. She hired an excellent attorney, was out on bail in less than forty-eight hours, but her passport was taken away and she was immediately served with an order of protection to stay away from her ex-husband and sons. She called them all repeatedly, making excuses and denying the charges and so went back to jail for twenty-four hours, which seemed to quiet her down. At least temporarily.

Beau delivered the divorce settlement money to Pamela’s lawyer so that his business would be cleared and was counseled by his lawyer that he was definitely entitled to a civil suit against his ex-wife to recoup some of his monetary losses. But Beau was exhausted. More lawyers and courts and lawsuits held zero appeal. He decided all he wanted was his freedom, at any price.

“That’s dangerous thinking,” Sonja told him. “Please don’t say that out loud.”

“Think she can find a way to make me pay more? More than sleepless nights for me and for Lauren and the boys?”

Deep in the dark of night Beau and Lauren whispered about it. They had thought their marriages were difficult and heartbreaking, not life-threatening. They had assumed their spouses would be selfish and greedy, not physically dangerous. Neither of them thought of themselves as cagey enough to get half of what they’d accrued in the marriage; neither was capable of really hurting someone for revenge or material wealth.

Beau just wanted to make the world beautiful. Lauren just wanted to live in peace and protect her family.

Beau found a way to make things better. At least once every week, depending on Lauren’s schedule, he stopped by the Emerson home and took her to a favorite park or garden for lunch. He knew the best hidden rooftop gardens, the most beautifully landscaped parks, the most delicious hideaways. They would eat a takeout lunch and talk like they used to in the gardens of Divine Redeemer.

Slowly, the tension seemed to ease, probably because his business was growing as it did in the spring every year. He had several designs in the works and planting yards and rooftops had begun because the weather was heavenly. An architectural magazine featured three of his rooftop gardens, the article went viral and he thought he was going to have to hire an answering service to take the additional calls that were coming in. Michael and Drew seemed to be getting along all right, thanks to some counseling, and Beau’s home life was better than it ever had been even with the danger they had experienced.

But, he looked in the truck bed and under the truck before getting inside every time he had to drive somewhere. It was a little like OCD but he decided if that was the worst thing that came of his mis-marriage and severely problematic divorce, he’d live through it. When he wondered if he’d manage another day through the stress, he just took Lauren into his arms, felt her mold herself to him in sweet affection, and he’d know he was finally where he wanted to be.

In April Lauren let her rental house go and even though her lease was for a year, the owner was very decent about it all. He probably didn’t want the domestic disturbances she’d been having to wear on the neighborhood any further. It left Beau’s home as her only home. It was not only where she wanted to be, it was also where she needed to be. They relied on each other now, after what had happened.

Beau and Lauren also enlarged Beau’s garden and updated the backyard because the weather was wonderful and Lauren had never loved being outdoors more. When she had lived in Brad’s house, she found her backyard to be too sterile and manicured, too artificial. In Beau’s yard and garden, there were things to watch growing and it was exciting. First there were little sprouts, then full thick stems then the start of fruits and flowers. Every morning, still in her robe, she wandered through the yard and garden, pulling a weed here or there, deadheading a bud or flowers, and before long Beau would join her, grooming the plants.

She had hardly any time to worry about her divorce, though she did check with Erica regularly. Brad was clearly stalling. Erica thought he’d rather pay fines and additional court costs than pay her, even though that wasn’t going to work out for him. It would all catch up with him eventually. Lauren’s job for Sylvie’s foundation was so rewarding, so busy, her schedule packed with meetings and planning sessions, she didn’t have a lot of time to worry about Brad. She and Beau were getting along just fine. The job had empowered her, made her feel vital again. She met with event planners, consultants, lawyers, account managers and sat in on the foundation board meetings.

Lauren talked to Lacey a couple of times a week and saw her for lunch or dinner about once a week. Sylvie had even hosted them at her house one day for lunch. Lauren wasn’t quite as worried about her daughter. Lacey seemed to be getting her footing, which probably had a lot to do with spending more time with Lauren at Beau’s house. She might be spoiled and a bit shallow, but she was growing more fond of Beau by the day. And she was seeing Brad less. Brad had, in his lifetime, driven a lot of people crazy.

In truth, Lauren hardly cared about her divorce anymore. Brad signing off on the marriage, even giving her a big check, could not possibly make her any happier than she was. She tried to explain that to Lacey. “I live in a stable environment with a very good man and his boys treat me kindly, with respect. I have a great job, good friends, my girls are in good health and while I’m not able to contribute much, I’m still able to help both of you.”

“But what am I going to do after I get my master’s? In less than six months? Teach junior high? I’ll have to give up everything! The salaries are so low!”

“I don’t know, kiddo. You might have to find a different kind of job. You’re welcome to stay with me and Beau if you want to. You might have to start over like a lot of us have had to do.”

“But start over doing what?” Lacey asked.

Lauren shrugged sympathetically. “Some choices are very hard to make. God knows I’ve put off the hard choices and regretted it, but once I dared to start over I’ve been so happy. Just finish your degree for now, then keep an open mind. I don’t have a lot of money to give you but I’ll cover your head and feed you.” Then she laughed and said, “Wait till you see the garden in Beau’s backyard.”

And Lacey said, “I don’t think his garden is going to get me as excited as it gets you.”

* * *

Brad asked Lacey regularly what her mother was doing for work, for fun, for getting along financially and Lacey just said, “We’ll get along so much better if I don’t talk about you with Mom or about Mom with you.”

But Brad knew. He couldn’t get near her—there was that restraining order, something he believed she’d done for show and leverage. It didn’t help her in any way that he could see. He knew she’d lost her job before Christmas, that his buddy Stu had resigned because of it, and that she was seeing a younger man. Some blue-collar type. A landscaper. A damn gardener. What was her problem? Was the pool boy all tied up? The landscaper probably supported her on his tips.

And he knew the gardener’s ex-wife had tried to have them killed. Once the police had interviewed him and explained why, he began following that story obsessively. The woman had been arrested and indicted and would stand trial. He wondered how smart Lauren thought she was now. Had that been a wiser choice than saving her marriage? But then Lauren wasn’t that bright, was she?