Chapter 6: Diane Fights Back
They discharged me on Thursday afternoon.
Michael was waiting at the hospital entrance with his car.
He had a blanket on the back seat and a paper bag from the diner two blocks from their house — the one I'd mentioned once, eight months ago, that I liked.
Scrambled eggs and wheat toast, still warm.
I got in without saying anything.
He drove.
I ate.
Somewhere on the expressway he said, "You can stay at the house.
Your house.
Ryan is at a hotel."
"You made him leave?"
"I told him he could leave or I would.
He left."
I looked out the window.
"Michael.
It's your house."
"It's your home right now.
There's a difference."
I didn't argue.
We were three blocks away when my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I almost let it go.
I answered.
"Claire." Diane's voice was smooth.
Completely composed, like the woman on the dining room floor had never existed.
"I think it's time we spoke like adults."
I looked at Michael.
He kept his eyes on the road but his jaw tightened.
"I'm listening," I said.
"What happened the other night was unfortunate.
Emotions ran high.
I think we can both agree that things were said and done that none of us are proud of." A pause.
"I'd like to propose something reasonable."
"Go ahead."
"Drop the complaint.
Destroy the recording.
Sign a revised agreement — one that's fair to everyone — and I will make sure Ryan is generous in the divorce settlement.
Very generous.
You'll never have to worry about money again."
I let the silence sit for a moment.
"And my daughter?" I said.
"Shared custody.
Reasonable terms.
You'd have her most of the time.
We just want to be part of her life."
"You k*cked me in the stomach to make sure she wouldn't be born."
"Claire—"
"You said it was never my baby to keep."
"I was upset.
People say things—"
"Diane." My voice came out quieter than I intended, and somehow that made it land harder.
"You planned this for weeks.
You had your son deceive me into signing a document I didn't understand.
And then when that wasn't enough, you decided to try to end my pregnancy with your foot." I watched Michael's knuckles go white on the steering wheel.
"There is no version of this where I drop the complaint."
A long pause.
When Diane spoke again, the smoothness was gone.
"You think Michael's little recording protects you.
It doesn't.
My lawyer says it was obtained without consent.
It may not even be admissible."
"Your lawyer can take that up with Karen Ellison."
Silence.
"I know people in this city," Diane said.
"Judges.
Attorneys.
People who have known our family for thirty years.
You are nobody here, Claire.
You have no family in Chicago, no history, no connections.
You think you can walk into a courtroom and win against us?"
"I think the hospital report, the recording, and your son's voice saying I didn't even read it will do most of the work for me."
Another silence.
Longer this time.
"You're making a mistake," she said.
"I've made a lot of those," I said.
"Marrying your son was the first one.
Agreeing to that dinner was the last one.
I'm done making them."
I ended the call.
Michael pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine.
He sat there for a moment, both hands still on the wheel.
"She called you," he said.
It wasn't a question.
"She offered money and shared custody if I dropped everything."
He nodded slowly.
"She called Ryan too.
This morning.
Told him to come home and act like a united front." He paused.
"He went."
I looked at the house.
The lights were on inside.
Someone had left the porch light on for me.
"Of course he did," I said.
Michael got out and came around to open my door.
He offered his hand and I took it, and we walked up the front steps together.
At the door he stopped.
"She's going to try something else.
She doesn't stop at one attempt."
"I know."
"Karen knows it too.
She's already filed for the emergency restraining order."
I nodded.
He opened the door and I stepped inside, into the warmth and the quiet.
On the kitchen table there was a small vase with three yellow flowers in it.
I stood there looking at them for a moment.
"My neighbor brought those," Michael said from behind me.
"She heard what happened.
She wanted you to know."
I didn't say anything.
May you like
I just stood there looking at those three yellow flowers until my eyes blurred.
That was the first time I cried since the dining room floor.
