This is a story in which there are no winners, only casualties. It’s too long and probably should have been split into three parts, but I’m too lazy to figure out how to divide it up logically.
OVERTURE
It was fall in the District of Columbia, the late fall afternoon one of those bright, perfect times with the brassy light, and autumnal sharp smell in the air. The Kalorama area of Adams Morgan was picturesque as usual, comparatively quiet, and traffic was at a surprising minimum.
Molly Laughlin pulled into her driveway and studied at her face in the rearview mirror of her Audi sedan as the garage door went up. She had seen that Phil’s BMW was already in one bay of the three-car garage, and she always loved looking her best for him. She smiled when she thought of how proud he always was of her, both her looks and her professional prominence, and she always wanted to be worthy of that love and pride.
She fetched her briefcase from the back floorboard of the car and went into the large Georgian house, entering through the mudroom where she removed her shoes and hung her Burberry coat on the rack. She walked on through and, not finding Phil in the family room, looked out upon the back sun porch, where she saw him in his favorite chair with a glass of something comforting in his hand, obviously lost in thought.
Molly breathed deeply taking in the comforting smells and atmosphere of her home, as she made her way up the stairs to the second story, to their master bedroom, where she shed her somewhat severe outfit, exchanging it for a more comfortable sweater and slacks. With comfy thick socks on her feet, she went back down to the kitchen where she constructed a double scotch-on-the-rocks and took a long gratifying test swallow of the cocktail. She closed her eyes and luxuriated in the feeling of being safe and secure in her own home with her loving husband awaiting her company. She passed back down the hallway and paused in front of the full-length mirror, checking again to make sure that her appearance was what she wanted Phil to see for their first meeting of the day. She took in the straight shoulder-length coal-black hair that shone with a glossy luster and conceded that the total package wasn’t so displeasing for a forty-five-year-old. She was tall for a Japanese woman at a svelte five feet nine inches and, with a porcelain-finish face called stunning by many, she had to admit that she wasn’t unsatisfied. She smiled to herself and, opening the door, went out on the sun porch to join her husband.
“Hi honey,” she said, setting her glass on the cocktail table between their two chairs, bending over to kiss him on the crown of his head. She grabbed his head in her arms and gave him a nuzzle, mussing his salt and pepper longish mop of hair. She had to admit that the $200 haircuts certainly made him look sexy and boyish for a middle-aged man. She thought again about how lucky she was to have such a loving, perceptive man in her life.
She sat, took a sip of her drink, and watched him running his fingers through his hair, getting it back into his artfully arranged casual flop that it was so precisely engineered to resemble. “How was your day? Don’t I remember that you were going to have to do something odious with some German energy-market people?”
She looked at him attentively and was somewhat surprised when he didn’t immediately reply. Instead, after a minute or so of silence, he gave a long sigh, raised his drink, and took a long swallow. He then turned his whole body to face her, looked her in the eyes, and paused before he spoke. “Molly, I’ve been in therapy for nearly a year, and I need for you to come to a session with me so you can help me with what I’ve been working on.”
Molly’s mouth gaped open, and she was stunned at what she had heard. Philip Laughlin was the most stable, calm, and fearless man she had ever known, and the idea that he would need therapy was absolutely incomprehensible to her. She reached for his hand, and gripped it tightly, “Phil, whatever in the world have you been having problems with that you needed therapy, honey? You know that you can talk to me any time and that I’d do anything on the face of the earth for you.”
He grimaced slightly, “Moll, it was something that I’ve had to work out for myself, but now I need your help; and the only way I can do it, is for you to come in with me and hear about everything that’s been going on, along with my therapist’s take on the matter.”
“Baby, obviously, I’ll do anything I can to help, but isn’t there anything you can tell me that will help me prepare myself?”
“Really, Molly, it’ll all work out best if we leave it for the doctor’s office. Everything will be apparent then, and we can go from there.”
“I’m very anxious about this honey. When is this session supposed to take place, you know I’ll need to work it into my calendar?”
“I’m sorry for the short notice, but I was hoping that you can make Friday at 4:00, and I’ll text you the address. It’s not far from the Georgetown campus, so you’ll only have about a fifteen-minute drive.”
“Honey don’t worry about the short notice. You’re the most important thing to me and I’m sure that I can make it work if it’s important for your well-being.”
Phil smiled at her wistfully, and said, “Moll, I know you’ll understand, and will do the right thing.”
***************
Meeting the Therapist
Phil had gently rebuffed her questions and concerns over the ensuing three days, and by the time Friday arrived, Molly was worried sick and consumed with curiosity about what was causing Phil so much pain that he had needed lengthy therapy.
She was uncharacteristically early for the appointment, arriving at fifteen minutes before the appointed hour. She arrived at the address she had been given, stopped at a gated drive with an intercom, and pushed the button on the speaker. A male voice asked, “Who’s there please,” and after she gave her name, the gate swung open, closing behind her after she had driven through.
She rolled down a shaded drive alongside a large brick Federalist-style home to the rear of the building where there was a spacious backyard enclosed by wrought-iron fencing and a large paver-surfaced parking area in which was parked Phil’s BWM and one other sedan. She sat quietly for a few minutes, gathering herself, and taking calming breaths. She couldn’t rid herself of the thought that maybe Phil was sick, seriously so, and that he was trying to gather himself to tell her. She shook herself like a dog coming out of the water and tried to shed her fears. Finally, she left the car, entered the house through the marked back entrance, and walked into a small foyer cum waiting room where Phil sat in a very expensive-looking comfortable leather chair. He arose, smiled slightly, and said, “Any trouble with the directions?”
“No, sweetie, everything was fine, and you will be too,” she said decisively.
“I expect I will, Molly,” Phil said with conviction in his eyes.
At that moment, the other door to the room opened, and a very large man appeared. He looked to be about their age, but rough-looking, about six-and-half-feet tall, and bulky like a professional football player. He was dressed rather unusually, Molly thought, for a psychotherapist, in a mono-tone rugby shirt, tan carpenter’s jeans, and what looked like Doc Martens boots.
He walked over to Philip, shook hands, and said, “How ya doin’ Phil?”
Philip smiled and responded, “I dunno, you tell me.”
They laughed heartily apparently having shared this little joke often.
He turned to her, took one of Molly’s hands in both of his, and looked at her with the gentlest, calming eyes that she had ever seen. “And you must be the accomplished and beautiful Molly Laughlin.”
She uncharacteristically blushed like a schoolgirl, and mumbled, “Well, I don’t know about that.”
“But I do,” he said heartily, “Come on in, and let’s make some coffee and talk.”
As he led the way in, he said over his shoulder, “I’m Frank Condon, but my friends call me Frankie.”
The three walked into an office that was as large as most living rooms, surprisingly populated with modern-style furniture. At one end of the room was a large glass and black metal desk with two chairs facing it, and at the other end, in front of a gray marble fireplace, a grouping of three comfortable-looking, plain black leather chairs clustered around a small central table, with a small cocktail-type table beside each.
Frank gestured them toward the three-chair area while he went over to a coffee bar that would have been at home in any commercial establishment and started the quasi-religious ritual of making the perfect pot of coffee. While it was brewing, he came back over and sat in the third, unoccupied chair, and looked at the two of them. “So, Phil, what have you told Molly in preparation for this visit”?
“I haven’t told her anything Frank, I wanted you to explain things first at the basic level before we got into anything substantive.”
“OK, that’s what you had said that you wanted to do, but I wanted to make sure that we were still reading from the same map here.”
Phil simply nodded.
Frank turned to look at Molly, whose face had taken on a decidedly anxious expression and started to say something, at which point the coffee maker gave its characteristic hiss and gurgle indicating that coffee was waiting. Phil raised one finger to pause the conversation, went over to the bar, poured the coffee into a thermal carafe, assembled a cream and sugar service, and carried all of it back over on a silver tray. He gestured to the service, and said, “Help yourself, you know what you want better than I do.” He winked, “Just a little therapist humor there.”
After they had served themselves coffee and Molly was gripping her cup like a life preserver, Frank looked at her, and said, “So, Molly, Phil tells me that you’ve never had experience with emotional health therapy, and probably don’t know much about it. Is that a fair assessment?”
She looked back and forth between the two of them and nodded her head in tight little jerks.
“OK,” Frank said decisively, “Then let me tell you a little about me to begin.”
“As I told you, I’m Franklin Condon, and I have both an M.D., and a Ph.D. in clinical psychology, I am a practicing psychiatrist, and more specifically a psychotherapist. Typically, I treat those with a demonstrable mental illness of some sort, specifically PTSD, but Phil was referred to me by a mutual acquaintance who described him as “One of the best people in I know, who’s in a hell of a mess.” I agreed to talk with him and decided after that initial conversation that he could benefit from having someone to talk to who could possibly give him the tools to deal with his issues.”
By this time, Molly was quickly losing patience. With exasperation, she said, “Please, I’m worried sick, just exactly what are the fucking issues?”
Frank calmly raised his hand, “If you’ll just give me a few moments, Phil will tell you about the issues, I’m just giving you background, so you’ll understand about how we got to where we are.”
Frank steepled his fingers, put them under his chin, and paused in thought for a minute. He looked up at Molly intently, and said, “It may not be readily apparent, but the conscious mind only completely understands an issue when it’s discussed aloud. It’s sort of like when you have two people who are privy to the same information looking for an answer to the same problem. They can work separately, in their heads, and never find a solution to the problem, but put them together to discuss it aloud, and invariably, they’ll find some pathway through that they couldn’t otherwise realize. That’s sort of the way that consultation with a therapist works, except the therapist has no information, nor is a participant in the solution, but merely acts as a guidepost, if you will, keeping the traveler out of the woods and helping him get to the final destination on his own. That’s what I’ve tried to help Frank with, and what I may be able to help you with.”
“Help me with,” Molly said surprised, “What do I need help with? I thought that I was here to help Phil with his issue or issues?”
“And you are,” Frank said calmly, “But, I’ll let Frank explain what he believes that I can help you with.”
At that, Frank looked over to Phil, who was staring fixedly at his lap, where his hands were clasped tightly.
He was silent for what seemed to be an interminably long time. Finally, he looked up at his wife, visibly relaxed, and unclasped his hands. He said resolutely, “Molly, I hope that you’ll start seeing Frank so that you can let me go.”
Molly paled, “Phil, what do you mean, let you go?”
Phil raised his chin slightly, and said resolutely, “Molly, I care for you, but I’m filing for divorce tomorrow, and I want us to have a loving and civil parting.”
Molly, profoundly shocked, cried, “Philly, I don’t understand, what in the world brought this on, how long have you felt this way?”
Phil looked at his watch, “For nineteen years, one hundred and thirteen days, Molly. Since the day that Patti was born, and the most excitement for you that day was for the card and flowers that you received in congratulation from Sam. I knew then that no part of our life was going to be just ours.”
She looked confused; “But Phil, why wouldn’t you think that I would want to share the birth of my daughter with the other man in my heart? You knew about Sam long before we were married, and I was always honest with you about him, that I loved you, but that I loved him also, that he would always be part of my life. You said that you accepted that and understood how I felt.”
“I did, Molly, and I truly believed that you loved me. I still believe you love me in your own way now. But I thought at the time that once we were married, everyday life and the love we shared would diminish your relationship with Sam and that eventually, he would just fall away under the weight of our family dynamic. But it didn’t happen. Even on that wonderful day when our daughter was born, we couldn’t have it for just the two of us. I knew then that we would raise our little girl in the best lifestyle we could give her and that I would make the most of you as long as I had you, but I also knew that I didn’t want to share the love of my life and that someday I would leave you.”
By this time Phil had tears in his eyes. “Molly if you love me, you’ll let me go. I’m not an old man. Hopefully, I can find someone else that I can love, who’ll love only me, and you’ll have Sam. Just let me go. That’s why I asked you to come here so that Frank can try to help you understand why I have to do this and to help you accept it. That’s all I want, for you to compassionately accept what’s going to happen. I’m going now, and you can do as you like, but I sincerely hope you’ll talk to Frank.”
With that, Phil rose, walked to the door, and left, leaving a stunned and tearful Molly slumped in her chair.
Frank simply waited quietly while Molly cried until she finally said, “Why would he do this, how could he do this? Nothing’s changed and we’ve been happy all these years. “She sobbed bitterly, “I just don’t understand what’s happened to him.”
She looked at Frank and he said, “Molly, that’s why Phil thought that you and I should talk. Beyond what he said to you here today, I doubt that he can give you a better explanation, but he believes that if you talk it through yourself from the foundation of your relationship that you’ll understand his point of view, and that it’ll give you the strength and compassion to accept his position and his decision.”
“What about couples counseling, don’t you think that would be the logical step, to help us work through the situation, to make adjustments that would help our relationship work,” she asked desperately?
Frank looked at her intently. “Molly, would you be willing to give up Sam,” he inquired skeptically?
“No, I could never do that,” she said frantically, “Phil knew from the second week we were dating that I have been in love with Sam since we were ten years old and that I’ll love him forever.”
“Then, what adjustments can you imagine that would help you maintain your marriage,” Frank asked bluntly, “In your mind aren’t they really adjustments that Phil would have to make”?
Molly just sat there with her mouth opening and closing, with no answer. Finally, she calmed enough to fully grasp the gravity of her situation, and she looked at Frank. “I suppose that we had better set up a schedule of appointments for me to see you. I’m assuming once a week?”
“Molly, we’d better look at twice a week. I’m afraid that this divorce is something that’s going to go pretty fast, that it isn’t something that Phil is going to want to drag out.”
She simply slumped defeatedly in her chair. “OK, twice a week it is. I don’t suppose it makes any difference now anyway, but I still don’t understand why, after all these years…”
************
Molly Laughlin’s First Therapy Session
The door to the office opened and Frank Condon stood there in a soft-looking grey cardigan and roomy black slacks. Rather incongruously, he appeared to be wearing brocade carpet slippers.
As Molly walked into the room, she heard the ever-present coffee pot brewing up a fresh batch and assumed that it was a sort of ritual for Frank, a welcome to put nervous clients at ease.
Again, Frank directed her to the fireplace seating group, and after fetching the coffee service and serving themselves, he leaned back in his chair. “Dr. Laughlin (no “Molly” this time, she noticed), since this is the first session that we’re having together, just the two of us, I feel that it’s important for certain issues to be established in our minds. For that reason, until you become accustomed to the setting and our relationship, I prefer that we be somewhat more formal with one another. If you have no objection, I’ll address you as Dr. Laughlin, and you may address me as Doctor, Dr. Condon, or Mr. Condon. When you become somewhat more comfortable in our roles and you feel ready to do so, you may let me know, and we’ll relax somewhat.”
“That addresses one issue, but there is another that is very important, and is crucial for you to understand for a variety of reasons. You must be aware that, though I am seeing you in a counseling capacity, and that you would be considered nominally my patient, that this entire process was brought about by and is to aid in the resolution of Philip Laughlin’s difficulties. I tell you this because, the conversations that you and I have will be geared and directed toward helping you understand and accept how Philip feels, and to aiding you in moving in the direction of a safe, loving, and amicable resolution of the situation. I will in no way steer you in any direction, nor will I do or say anything that would be of any harm to you, but you must understand that, in this instance, Philip Laughlin is my major concern as a mental health professional. Do you understand the situation as I’ve explained it?”
Molly immediately nodded, and said, “I understand and agree wholeheartedly. Phil is my major concern, and all I want to do is to make him happy. My objective is to make him understand how much I love and value him and to figure out how to make this all turn out right.”
Dr. Condon smiled understandingly, reached beside him to the cocktail table, and came up with a sheaf of papers. “OK, then if you’ll read through this set of release forms, then we can get started.”
She took the papers, and always a fast and accurate reader, she scanned every word. She smiled at the doctor, removed her Mont Blanc fountain pen from her purse, and signed her name where indicated. “I think that everything is very straightforward,” she said with a tight smile.
Dr. Condon picked up his cup of coffee to a long sip, and looked at her over the rim, “So, all I know of you is from Philip’s perspective How about you tell me about yourself from the time of your birth, and about your parents”?
Molly sat quietly for a few seconds, seemingly gathering herself, and began to speak, unconsciously interlacing and unlacing her fingers repetitively.
“As you probably know, and can tell by looking at me, I’m of Japanese ethnicity, with both my mother and my father born in Japan. They met and married while in school at the University of Tokyo and moved to the United States to pursue graduate school. My father, a physicist, and my mother, a psych major, were accepted on scholarship at Cal Berkley, but within six months, my mother had met a woman, had come to the conclusion that she was a lesbian, and left my father. He was so distraught that he left the states immediately and moved back to Japan. What she hadn’t told him was that she was two months pregnant, and seven months later, I was born. She didn’t tell him that I existed for three years, and by that time he had remarried a Japanese woman, and wisely decided that neither my life nor his needed any disruption by any type of shared custody situation. So, he ceded any parental rights to me. I’m certain that my being female entered into his thinking, sons being more highly valued in Japanese society.”
Molly looked at Dr. Condon, grinned wryly, and said, “It’s ironic me sitting here with you because my mom went on to receive her Ph.D. in clinical psychology, and then trained as a psychotherapist at The Institute for Psychotherapy in Berkley.”
He looked back at her with raised eyebrows and said, “Well, that is interesting. So, you’re no stranger to this psycho mumbo-jumbo?”
She laughed and shook her head, “Oh, but I am. She was always just mom to me, and any head-shrinking that she may have done on me was so subtly insinuated that I was certainly unaware of it. Actually, it was probably my two other moms who were most likely to have tried to change the way that I looked at the world.”
At this Dr. Condon perked up. “Oh right, your two other moms. I remember Philip mentioning them to me. Tell me about them please.”
Molly took a deep breath, and let it out in a rush, “Whew, well we’re getting right into it, aren’t we?”
“If you feel rushed, we can talk about something else for a while,” he said sympathetically.
“No, that’s OK,” she said pensively, “It’s just that sometimes when I’ve first met someone, as I have you, I’m instinctively a little reluctant to reveal much about my family life because it was so unconventional. But really Dr. Condon, since that’s what we’re here for, I’d rather just get into it.”
He nodded his acquiescence.
“As I told you, my mom had come to the realization that she was a lesbian, not bisexual, mind you, but a Birkenstock-wearing, non-leg shaving, Volkswagen bus-driving lesbian, and she apparently grabbed onto the lifestyle with both fists. She told me later that she sort of “Test-drove” her new sexuality for a couple of years, and then something happened that threw her for a loop, coming from an old, traditional society as she had. As you know, you can’t throw a rock without hitting an LGBT organization of some sort in the bay area, and one weekend when she was attending a meeting of some off-the-wall group or other, she met and fell deeply in love not with just a woman, but a couple of women; and bizarrely enough, her infatuation and love was returned. They were both, to hear my mom tell it, completely smitten with her as well, and within two weeks, we had moved into the big old Victorian house that they were buying, and suddenly, I had three moms, and two sisters and a brother. I don’t remember a lot about the transition, but from what mom tells me, it was pretty seamless. I was three years old at the time and by all accounts the picture of adaptability.”
“So, you got along well with your new moms and your acquired siblings, I gather?”
“Oh, god yes,” she said delightedly, “Mama Rosalee and Mommy Jennifer loved me from the first moment we met, and I loved them just as much. Mom died four years ago of ovarian cancer, and if I hadn’t had those two, and my sisters and brother, I don’t know what I would have done.”
“Did you find it at all strange that your moms were living in a non-conventional relationship,” he asked soothingly?
“I was so young when we moved in that I don’t believe that I ever gave it a thought, nor had any context in which to judge it,” she said pensively. “I had a single-parent family up until then, so I don’t suppose that I gave the fact that all of a sudden I had three mothers much thought. And then later, in school, it wasn’t such a big deal because there were so many kids from single-family homes and homosexual families, that the fact that I had three moms instead of two wasn’t much of a blip on most kids radar.”
“Were you a good student in school?”
“Oh, yes. I started reading when I was four, after all, the moms kept me busy, kept me from talking incessantly by reading to me, and I wanted to read too. I was so precocious that I was started into school directly into the second grade and had no trouble with the curriculum nor any social issues. I was a real motor-mouth and would talk to anyone who would listen, so I had no trouble making friends.”
Dr. Condon looked at her intently, “And exactly when did you first meet Samuel Freskin?”
She looked down at her hands pensively, but before she could answer, he said, “On second thought, let’s put that on hold until the next session if you don’t mind. It’s a topic that I think will require some lengthy conversation, and I see that our time is nearly up. Instead, can you tell me a little more about your mother?”
With a small, wistful smile, Molly raised guileless eyes to his, “My mother was one of the sweetest, most genuine people that I ever knew. Sure, I loved her because she was my mom, but her gentle nature and calm way of seeing the world made everyone she came into contact with love her. I certainly did. I thought she walked on water.”
“So, what kind of conversations did the two of you have about the nature of the relationship that she was in with your other two moms,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees?
Molly looked out the window, seemingly caught up in a memory, “Believe it or not, I don’t think we ever had a conversation that directly concerned how her relationship with Rosie and Jenny worked or how they related to one another or to the totality of their union. We had a lot of talks about love, what love is, how you express it, how you prove it, lots of things like that, which was logical when you consider the focus of her psychotherapy practice”.
Condon gazed at her, one eyebrow raised in silent inquiry.
“Oh, I thought maybe you knew, though I’m not sure why you would. She specialized in helping people who were involved in unconventional loving relationships. Though she didn’t ever reveal anything about individual patients or her sessions with them, I put together that she saw clients from polyamorous groups, both gay and lesbian couples, and I admit I did find this a little shocking, many, many couples or individuals who were involved in incestuous relationships that they didn’t know how to navigate. I suppose you could generalize and say that she specialized in love, with all its’ trials, tribulations and warts.” She smiled a little sadly at the last. “I guess that’s what we’re dealing with here aren’t’ we, the warts, I mean?”
Condon nodded slowly to her, “The warts indeed, Dr. Laughlin.”
He smiled and, rising from his chair, said, “I guess we’ll call it a day, and pick it up again on Thursday, then.”
She stood, facing him, six feet tall in her heels, so she wasn’t looking up at Dr. Condon at a great angle. Blank-faced she blurted out, “You truly don’t think that there is any chance for Philip and I do you, Frank.”
He looked at her appraisingly for a moment. “Molly why don’t we take it a session at a time and see where it goes. You never can tell when something will just drop out of the sky that you didn’t ever expect. I’m sure that you’ve had that happen in your work.”
She hung her head for a moment, and when she looked up, her lashes were bejeweled with tears. “Yes, that has happened, but not often enough for me to be optimistic.”
He placed his hand comfortingly on her forearm. “I’ll see you, Thursday Molly, same time.”
**********
INTERMEZZO
After the appointment with Dr. Condon, Molly drove home immediately and submerged her anxiety and sense of abandonment in a tumbler of twenty-year-old scots whiskey. Arriving home from the joint visit to the psychotherapist three days before, she was shocked when Philip didn’t arrive at nearly the same time, and then not at all. She tried calling him, and when he didn’t answer, she walked through the house only to find that his personal effects were gone from his bathroom, along with a number of his suits from the closet. Though she knew that they had some serious issues to resolve, she had not for a moment, up to this point, really believed that Philip truly meant to leave her and that he had now actually moved out.
Over the last two days, she had been a complete loss at work, both at the Brookings Institute and during classes and meetings at Georgetown. The normally calm, cool, and collected Dr. Michiko Laughlin had been scattered, inattentive, and unable to concentrate on anything except Phil, upon what she needed to say to him when they could finally talk. Though she had called him several times, and sent numerous e-mails, she finally faced the fact that he didn’t want to talk to her right now, and she texted him to let him know that she would be ready when he wanted to get together. She received no response.
She was sipping her drink, looking mindlessly out over the backyard when the doorbell rang. She sighed, rose, and walked to the front door. Upon looking through the peephole, she saw a small courier service van parked in front of the house, the same service that she had used on many occasions to send and receive documents related to her work. She opened the door, and the young man holding a flat box smiled at her, looked at an electronic pad, back at her, and said, questioningly, “Dr. Michiko Laughlin”? She tiredly smiled back and said, “Yes.”
“Sign here,” he said, extending the electronic pad.
She signed, he handed her the box, and said, “You’ve been served, ma’am,” as he took her picture holding the box, with his phone camera.
Her eyes widened and filled with tears as the “Courier” turned on his heel and walked away toward his van. She remained there in the cooling air for what seemed like forever, her mind empty, resolutely refusing to think, to consider what was in the box, to accept the fact that her darling Philip was so unhappy with her that he would actually consider leaving her forever. Finally, her innate sense of practicality made her go back into the house, shut the door, and carry the box containing her despair into the family room where she sat down and contemplated its blank, impersonal surface that belied its’ disastrous contents.
The box was difficult to open, and she managed to cut two of her fingers on the binding tape, but she paid no attention to the blood that smeared the stack of paperwork that she removed to her lap. As she scanned through the papers, she left light smudges of bloody fingerprints on many pages, later thinking that the smudges were symbolic of how deeply she was wounded by what she read.
Though it was obfuscated by legal jargon, the long and short of it was that Philip Braxton Laughlin sought a dissolution of his marriage to Michiko Satomi Yoshida Laughlin on the grounds of “Irreconcilable Differences”, and that he further sought an equal distribution of all assets, with requests for financial maintenance by either party neither made nor entertained; that the distribution of assets be accomplished by means of negotiations between expert financial representatives of both parties; and that no requests for marital, or “Couples” counseling were made nor would be entertained. Further, it was stated that the plaintiff had no desire to meet or speak with the respondent and that all inquiries and responses to the filing should be addressed to the plaintiff’s legal representatives. In the matter of the progeny of the parties, the plaintiff, Philip Laughlin had established a trust fund in the amount of $500,000.00 to cover any remaining educational and upkeep expenses of Patricia Martina Yoshida Laughlin, and that additional funds would be potentially available to said P. Laughlin upon her request and itemization. It was made clear that the plaintiff wished a rapid response and hasty conclusion to the matter, and that no deviation from the proposal as stated was anticipated.
Molly, again, went into a semi-fugue state and she simply sat for nearly an hour, her mind a blank, staring at the pages in her lap. Finally, she realized that it was nearly 9:00 and that she hadn’t had anything to eat at all that day. She dragged herself from the chair, feeling as if she had run a marathon, and walked into the kitchen where she made a small salad, adding some cold chicken breast that she kept for the purpose. She ate only half of it before she felt her stomach rebel, but, by deep breathing, she managed to keep it down, and then drank a whole bottle of water.
She slumped down the hall to the master bedroom, where she was crushed by the feeling of loss, knowing that Phil wasn’t going to be in the bed with her yet again. She wished that she could wave a magic wand and that everything would be okay, but she was nothing if not realistic, and she knew that there was a distinct possibility nothing would ever be okay again.
With simple mindfulness, she managed to get her face cleaned and one of Phil’s old tee-shirts on before she fell into bed and a night of fitful sleep; yet when she arose, she was refreshed, had a reinvigorated outlook on things, and surprisingly enough was, for some reason, a little angry. She needed to think things through thoroughly, but increasingly, she was beginning to feel like an aggrieved party, as if Philip hadn’t thought this whole issue through completely, and that by his hasty actions had put in motion a process that would damage everyone involved. She dressed and went to work with a growing feeling of righteous indignation in place, actually more effective than she had been for the last couple of days. Anger became her.
************
Telephone Call: Molly Laughlin to Col. Samuel Freskin
“Colonel Freskin’s office, Sergeant Devit speaking, may I help you, sir”?
“Good morning, Sergeant, this is Doctor Laughlin, is Colonel Freskin available”?
“Doctor, he’s on another call at the moment, but, if you’ll hold, let me tell him that you’re waiting”.
In less than a minute, she heard the hold-to-music stop and a deep voice said, “Moll, how are you doing, sweetheart?”
“Not so well, Sam. I was served with divorce papers last night, and I’m still a little shaky about it; angry but shaky. The only positive thing is that he’s citing “Irreconcilable Differences.”
“Well, shaky, I can understand, but the angry part, I’m not so sure that I get that”.
“Why shouldn’t I be angry, Sam? Phil and I have been married for nearly twenty-two years, and from my perspective, I’ve never seen or heard anything that would have indicated to me that he was anything but happy in our relationship. And now I find out, as I told you about the appointment we shared with Doctor Condon the other day, he’s been building up to this since the day that Patti was born. You remember, the remark he made about the flowers and card you sent?”
“Yes, I remember, and as I said before, in retrospect it was a stupid, unthinking thing for me to do, and, even now, I’m embarrassed and regret it, knowing the hurt it must have caused Philip.”
“But I just don’t see that! You were only doing the same thing lots of other people did on the same day, sending cards, flowers, letting me know that they shared in our happiness and hopes for a happy, healthy baby.”
“Sure, Moll, but to Phil, all those other cards and flowers weren’t from the man who was in love with, and was, in turn loved by his wife. Regardless of all the agreements that you might have made before you guys married, I think that day just brought home the fact that it would never be just you and him and a vine-covered cottage in the relationship; that there would always be the three of us.”
“I know, Sam, and I understand it intellectually; but I can’t get past that we were together nearly two-and-a-half years before we married. We talked the issues to death, and Phil had all the time in the world to know what he was getting into, especially when you and I had our weekends together. Sam, Phil knew that I love you and that it wasn’t and isn’t going to change; but even knowing all the ins and outs of my heart and experiencing first-hand how it would be accepting that I also love someone else, he still went into our marriage with, as far as I knew, his eyes wide open. I hid nothing from him, and as a matter of fact, was always sure to talk about you in terms that left no question of the devotion that I have for you, and that it had nothing to do with the love that I have for him; and I mean that the love I still have for him. Sam, if I lose Philip, I don’t know what I’ll do. He’s my love, the father of our child, my life partner. How could I deal with losing him?”
“Honey, that’s an answer that I don’t have, and while I can sympathize, I don’t know how I can help you with the situation other than to support your choices. I just strongly feel that if I insert myself in any way, it would be extremely counter-productive to both of you.”
She sighed and was quiet for a moment. “I know you’re right. I wish that I could turn the whole mess over to you to handle and just retreat into my research papers. I’d only come out when you had talked some sense into Philip, and we could go on with our lives as we always did.”
“I wish I could give you some encouragement, but I just don’t see this having a happy ending Moll.”
“Maybe not, but I’m tired of being on the defensive. I’m going to see Doctor Condon tomorrow afternoon, and hopefully afterward, I’ll have a better idea of how I’m going to fight for my marriage.”
“Well, good luck babe. You know I love you, and that I’ll be thinking of you.”
“I know, Sam. I love you too, Bye.”
**********
Telephone Call: Molly Laughlin to Patricia Laughlin
“Hi mom, I hope you’re calling me with good news.”
“I wish I were, honey, but I’m sorry to say that I was served with divorce papers last night”.
Patti let out her breath in an exasperated whoosh, “I just cannot fucking understand this whole thing. It’s like daddy moved out overnight and some alien being moved into his skin. It’s all just completely nuts!”
“Language, please, Patricia. You know how it jars me to hear you use foul words.”
Patricia laughed with little humor, “Mom, if the worst problem we have right now is me saying ‘fuck’, then we need to go back and re-evaluate the issues. After all, I am an adult now and entitled to both opinions and, as you put it, foul words.”
“Shit, I guess, you’re right,” she said sarcastically, and they both gave a sharp, self-conscious laugh.
“Momma, I just need some help with this. All my life, even though my dear sweet daddy has been the main man in my life, I’ve known that Sam Freskin was your most treasured friend and that you were in love with him too. But the telling thing is that no matter how much you talked to Sam on the phone when he was living overseas, or the weekends you spent with him, or even the two-week trip we took to visit him in Italy, I never saw daddy do or say anything at all that would have told me that he had any real issues with your relationship with Sam at all, nothing!”
“You would have probably been the last person to have seen anything, sweetie. Your father was nothing if not protective of you to the nth degree. He would have never said or done anything that would have led you to believe that there was the slightest problem between the two of us. Did you ever see us argue about anything?”
“No, I saw you trying to get Dad to argue sometimes, and he just simply refused to do it. He’d just ignore you until you settled down, and then go on about the business of loving you”.
“You’re right, he never showed anything to you, and, I have to admit, not much to me. But, in all truth, I’ve always known that he was never happy with my feelings and relationship with Sam, but I thought that he had come to terms with the situation, that he knew that my feelings for Sam never diminished my love for him one iota.”
“So, you think that he’s just inextricably locked into the one person for one person relationship mindset and that he can’t get by that after all these years?”
Her mother was quiet for a moment, “I don’t think that he intellectually disputes that we as human beings can love more than one person at a time. As you and I have discussed many times, love isn’t a zero-sum game. If you only had a finite amount of love in your heart to give, women who have one child and then bear a second would have to split off some of the love from the first child to give to the second one. We know that just doesn’t’ happen and that she can love both totally. I just simply don’t know why we deny that can happen with mature lovers and continue the myth that if you are in love with one person it must mean that you can’t also be in love with someone else. I know that it doesn’t work that way with everyone, but every person has a different capacity for love and all the other emotions in them, and you just cannot accept the kind of generalities that society likes to make about that type of relationship.”
“Oh, you know that I agree with you completely, Momma, and apparently I get my emotional quotient genetically from you. You know that I’ve always had a problem with playing the “Going-steady” game. On some level, it may be that I’ve just not met that person who is the intellectual “Everything” that I need; or maybe it’s just that I’m a horny college girl who wants everything. You know that I’m in relationships with both Paul and Cal, each of whom gives me something that I need. Paul’s gives me that masculine, attractive jock persona, and he’s here in New Haven at Yale; but Cal’s not here, and he’s so wrapped up with his studies and research projects that even when I go up to Boston, his mind is on another plane. But that’s what’s sexy about him, Mom; Cal is a genius, and when we get the opportunity to talk for any length of time, I’m just simply swept away on his intellect and am completely content to just listen to him and soak up all that I can.”
“Do they know about one another?”
“Paul knows that I have a boyfriend up at MIT, but, frankly, I believe that as long as he gets to have hot monkey sex with me most days, he could care less.”
Molly immediately sang, “La, la, la, too much information”!
Patti laughed gleefully, “Well, maybe, but that’s how it is. Cal, on the other hand, Cal doesn’t know about Paul, and I’ve got to believe that if he did find out, he’d immediately drop me like a hot rock. There’d be no way that I could get by his insecurities and convince him that he has something I need just as Paul does; each of them fulfills a need, just not the same ones.”
“In this case, I sort of think you’re out on a limb, and being pretty dishonest about the whole thing.”
“I don’t entirely disagree”, Patricia answered, “But at this point, I don’t want to give either of them up, and don’t know how to handle it any other way.”
“It’s dishonest, Patti, and while you’re not actually hurting Cal at the moment, either he’ll eventually find out and be crushed, or if you eventually tell him about it, there’ll be the same result.”
Patti was getting a little miffed at her mom’s judgment. “So how is what I ‘m doing much different than how you’ve lived your life, mother?” You have one lover who doesn’t care whether you’re faithful to him or not, in Sam, and another who you basically gave a take-it-or-leave-it deal while you were in college.”
“I did no such thing! We talked the issues out for over for two years, and, in the end, your father decided that he understood my feelings and that it was an agreement that he felt comfortable making”.
“Oh, bullshit, mother! You told me yourself that when Daddy was having doubts that you for all intents and purposes manipulated him; you were proud of it! You told me specifically that you told him Sam loved you enough to share you, leaving unsaid what would happen if he couldn’t share you with Sam. You essentially gave him an ultimatum: “Either you accept my other lover, or you don’t love me, and we can’t be together”.
“Well, I certainly didn’t mean it that way.”
“Mom, you need someone else to offer that story up to because I’m not buying it. Now back to what we were discussing earlier. Did daddy ever give you any indications that he had second thoughts about your relationship with Sam?”
“If you’re asking if we ever sat down and he demanded that I give up my relationship with Sam, the answer is no. It’s true that for the first year or so that we were married when I was going to spend time with Sam, he would ask me not to go, and I’d always just respond that we had talked about it before getting married. After a year or two though, he just stopped saying anything, and just seemed resigned, which, I admit, I just eventually accepted as the normal course of events.”
“Do you think that he stopped asking after Sam’s flowers, and the card when I was born?”
“God, I never even thought of that; but if he decided at that point that he’d eventually leave, as he said at Doctor Condon’s office, I can definitely see he and his stoic self just giving up and living with it, just biding his time”.
“Did he ever actually talk to Sam about the whole situation?”
“No, the closest he ever came were the times he answered the phone when Sam was calling me. Philip was always polite, with never a harsh word. Sam told me that early on he tried to engage your dad in some small talk while I was on my way to the phone, but that Philip always responded something to the effect that “You didn’t call to talk to me.”
“So, you take Daddy at his word that the only reason he stayed was because of me, that he wanted me to have a stable and happy childhood?”
“That may have been the reason, but, and maybe I’m deluding myself, I truly believe that Philip and I love each other. I still love him today as much as I ever did, and I believe he loves me also. It may be true what he says, that he has been unhappy in our arrangement and that he stayed for you, but I honestly believe that we had love and still do.”
“I’m glad for that, Momma, but apparently what the two of you had together may have been enough for you but isn’t enough for Daddy now that I’ve moved out of the house. I hope you can figure out a way to get him to come home, but I’m not optimistic. I’m going to call him tonight and see if I can get a fix on his feelings regarding the whole situation. The one thing I don’t want to do, however, is to make him feel as if I’m on your side, and that everyone’s ganging up on him. It may be selfish on my part, but whether your relationship with him survives or not, I love him and want to be a big part of his life.”
“You’re not a party to this separation, honey, and I don’t want you to be anywhere in the line of fire.”
“OK Mom, I’m going out to dinner with a couple of friends, and I’ll call Daddy later this evening. I’ll let you know if I find out anything that’ll clarify the situation, that is, anything I can tell you without violating his confidence.”
“Bye honey, talk to you later.”
***********
Telephone Call: Patricia Laughlin to Philip Laughlin
“Hi, Daddy. I’m not going to ask how everything’s going.”
Patricia could almost hear the ironic smile in her father’s voice when he answered, “Pretty much what you’d suspect, I suppose. There aren’t many positive possibilities at hand.”
“I heard that Mom was served with papers last night.”
“Yeah, I had it arranged so that she’d be at home and not be bothered or embarrassed in public or at either of her offices.”
“You know, she would have been a lot happier if she’d never received them at all.”
“I’d say you’re right,” Phil said pensively, and after a pause spoke very distinctly, “But, Patti, I’ve got to honestly say that at this point in my life, your mother’s happiness isn’t at the top of my to-do list.”
Patricia caught her breath sharply, “God, that’s a jarring thing to hear, but I can’t say, based on what mom’s told me that I’m surprised you’d feel that way. Is it true that you told mom that you’ve been planning to do this since the day I was born?”
“No, I haven’t been exactly planning it, it’s more that I just finally accepted the way things were and reached a decision that day. I didn’t specifically plan anything until about three years ago. Even though the thought had been in my mind for all that time, it was more like a “Fantasy” I suppose you’d say. A fantasy world where I’d have someone to love only me, or at least act as if she did,” he said wryly.
“Daddy, when did momma ever act as if she didn’t love you? If she did, I certainly didn’t see it.”
“Really”? You didn’t see her leave to spend weekends with a man she openly admits she loves, leaving me at home alone, and you didn’t go on a trip to Europe with her to visit him, you see those things as evidence that she loves me”?
“Dad, of course, I knew about her visits to Sam, but how do you see that as a sign that she doesn’t love you when you knew that’s how it was going to be when you got married and agreed to the arrangement? I can assure you that she loves you unconditionally and that the time she spends with Sam has nothing whatsoever to do with that.”
“Patti, I’m not going to argue my reasoning to you, since I really don’t have to convince you of anything. The only thing I can tell you is how I feel, and you know what I’m doing about it”.
“But, Daddy, again, how can you take this path, tearing the family apart, after all these years when you knew what you were doing from the very beginning? Don’t you see this at all as breaking as much of a promise as your wedding vows?”
“Maybe you see it that way, and I’m sure that your mother will. But, Patti, when I married your mom, I was completely, madly in love with her, and I’d have cheerfully died for her. When she told me about Sam Freskin, and how they felt about one another, it took all I had to not just walk away from the relationship. But I truly thought that with time, that either Sam would tire of the long-distance affair, or your mom would become immersed in family life, especially with having a child, and that she’d, if you will, ‘grow out’ of the relationship. Not only didn’t she tire of it, but imagine if you will, the morning of your birth. She didn’t have a particularly tough delivery; three hours and some drugs and you popped out as healthy and beautiful as you could be, and ready to nurse. Within an hour after she was back in her room, the nurses brought you in, and after Molly checked you out completely to make sure that you had all the standard fingers and toes, she offered you her breast, and you latched onto her with a vengeance”.
“I was leaning over the bed with my arm around her watching you attack that nipple, and we were very, very happy. At that moment a candy-striper brought in some flower arrangements, and we started to look at them. Your mom was trying to burp you and she asked me to take a look at the card on a huge package of white lilies, and my day turned to complete shit when I saw that it was from Sam Freskin. He had sent his congratulations and addressed his remarks inside the card to “My love”. As soon as Molly read the card, her eyes lit up, she pulled away from me, and she asked for her phone. I gave it to her and left the room as I heard her behind me discussing, with her lover, how beautiful and perfect you were, as if you were his daughter. Patti, can you imagine how I felt? Here we were, one of the most momentous and intimate times of a couple’s married life, and as soon as Molly saw that card, Sam became the most important man in the world to her, and I, the dad, just an afterthought. I decided at that moment that I’d live my life the best that I could and be the best dad in the world for you, but that as soon as you were gone, so would I be.”
Philip could hear Patti quietly crying. She gathered herself, and said huskily, “Daddy, I’m so sorry that I was the cause of that. I know that I shouldn’t feel that way, but I can’t help it. Did you ever discuss it with momma?”
“No, not until the day at the doctor’s office. I have my doubts that she even remembers it happening, after all, she was only a couple of hours post-delivery, and she had been given some drugs. But, Patti, I believe the old “in vino veritas” theory: “With wine there is truth”. In this case, it was drugs rather than wine and you might argue that it had an effect on your mother’s actions. Maybe that’s so, but I believe the effect was to relax her inhibitions to the point that she simply did what she felt rather than trying to cushion my feelings. I believe that at that point, I ceased to exist for her, and her main need was to share her joy with Sam Freskin. I accepted that day that I would never come first in your mother’s heart and made my decision in basic self-preservation.”
“Daddy, do you see any way that you could still be with momma and not destroy yourself, not to mention her?”
“Honey, as I told you before, your mother’s feelings are not high on my list of considerations right now. If I went back to her the relationship would eventually damage me even more than it has, and I don’t mean to let that happen. As far as I’m concerned, Sam Freskin can have her exclusively, and she can finally have him.”
“I don’t even know what to say, Daddy. I want to beg you to go back, to make our house our home again, but I’d feel selfish doing that. I have to agree with mom that it’s possible to love more than one person, but I also understand that you’ve had to live with something that’s made you miserable. And I also understand that you feel that it’s your turn for happiness. I told mom that I wouldn’t take sides in this, but I have to say that I see your pain, and it tears me apart to say it, but I support you in whatever you decide.”
“I hope you feel the same way after this is over Patti. Your mother is an assertive, aggressive woman, and after all these years of me being the “Good husband” isn’t going to take this lying down and isn’t going to let me go quietly. I suppose that’s to be expected after getting exactly what she wants for so long, but I hope that she finally understands that if she tries to bulldoze me to get me to stay that it would destroy what love I still have for her.”
“Daddy, I respect and love you, and I want what’s best for you; and I feel the same about momma. We haven’t been churchgoers for years, but somehow, I feel as if I need to pray for all of us and ask for peace and forgiveness.”
“I guess it couldn’t hurt. Put in a word for me baby….”
***********
Telephone Call: Patricia Laughlin to Molly Laughlin
“Hi honey, you’re up late”.
“Momma, I needed to go ahead and call. I just got off the phone with Daddy.”
“Oh, god, is everything OK? Is Philip all right?”
“No mom, he’s not all right, any more than you are. You’re both walking wounded, and neither of you will ever be the same again.”
“But, honey, what I need to know is what can I do to get him to come home again. If he’d just come home, I could show him how much I love him, and that everything will work out OK.”
“Momma, I love you more than air, you and daddy too. But I have to tell you as gently as I can, if you have a heart, you need to let him go.”
“Patti, I can’t do that. I need Philip. Philip gives meaning to my life, the two of us make that special place that’s a home, and together we made you.”
“Oh yeah, on the subject of “Me” mom, what were you thinking when you took me on trips to visit Sam. Didn’t it ever occur to you that Dad might be desperately hurt to know that you were talking his daughter to show off to your other love?”
“No, what I was thinking was that you were my daughter also and that I wanted to meet the other love of my life, to show him how beautiful and intelligent you were, and what Philip and I had created.”
“Well, momma, I can tell you that isn’t how Daddy saw it, and it flayed him alive. Again, I’m not taking sides. What’s done is done, and no matter what you might hope, it can’t be undone. If you love the man, let him go.”
“No, I can’t do that. I just cannot lose him. It would be the end of me, and I believe he still loves me. I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep him and make amends for any rough tactics later. I don’t expect you to agree or to support me, all I ask is for you to stay out of the way.”
“I guess there’s nothing else to be said and nothing more that I can do.”
***********
Plaintiff’s Meeting
Since Philip Laughlin was one of the powerhouse legal minds of the Washington D.C. political and diplomatic scene, it wasn’t’ difficult to find the perfect representation among local Family Relations lawyers. Eloise Kline had taken on his case knowing that it might become very contentious and very messy, but immediately truly liked Philip, and was determined to do whatever was necessary to achieve a positive result for him. Eloise was known as “Aunt Piranha” for her librarian looks and wardrobe, and the extremely sharp legal teeth that had eviscerated more than one opponent. Her first instincts and proposals were to attack Molly with every weapon in the arsenal and leave her lying bleeding in the ruins of her reputation. But Philip talked Eloise around to the proposition that he still loved Molly, and that he just wanted to move her to the realization that it was the merciful thing to do in letting him go. Eloise hmphed and tutted, and cursed until she was blue in the face, but Philip wouldn’t budge. She finally, as so many of Philip’s associates, clients, and opponents had done before, came around to his way of thinking.
After he had left the office, ending that first meeting, Eloise’s long-time legal secretary, and life-partner Claire came into the office and sat down in from of Eloise’s desk crossing long legs, and smoothing her skirt. “So, how did that go?”
“Claire, that fucking Philip Laughlin, in addition to being ridiculously good-looking, is the smoothest lawyer that I’ve ever dealt with. Here we are in the middle of the most stressful thing that’s ever happened to him in his life, and he’s trying to make sure that everyone comes out of the situation a winner. He is, honest to god, the nicest, kindest man I’ve ever known, and if I even remotely liked cock, I’d fuck him.”
Claire smiled her dazzling smile and said, “Then it’s a very good thing that you don’t like cock. I would be very unhappy in the unlikely case that you fucked him.”
“No, no fucking, but, regardless of what Phil wants, we’re simply going to have to fuck Molly Laughlin somewhere along the line. Maybe only just a little, because she just ain’t going to take losing a hunk like Philip in stride.”
“Is Mr. Laughlin going to stand for us fucking over the future ex-Mrs. Laughlin?”
“We’ll have to make it a very civilized fucking-over that seems like an, I guess, almost an ass-fucking accident. We have to make her reveal herself for the selfish, borderline sociopathic cunt that she truly is. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I believe she loves Philip, and that she loves this other guy too, this Army Colonel, but not as much as she loves herself. And you know what, fuck her, who gets to have everything she wants?”
Claire seemed to ponder, her perfect chin propped on her finger, “Well you and I get a lot of what we want, like that cute red-haired waitress from the Le Bonne Charlaine the other night.”
Eloise grinned wolfishly, “Yeah, yeah, but you know what I mean, serious stuff! That waitress wasn’t much more than taking home a doggy bag for you and me. Anyway, let’s get our shit together and plot to make Phil an unmarried man.”
***********
Office Meeting: Eloise Kline and Philip Laughlin
“Phil, how’s it hangin’, big guy?” Eloise always liked to disarm people, even her clients.
He laughed out loud, “Eloise, you make my day. You’re so full of shit that you’re an absolute treat!”
“Yeah, well then, happy days are here again, Phil. We got a response from Molly’s alleged representation, who by the way, is a fucking academic, contesting everything but the fact that you were married in the first place. They’re saying that they want seventy percent of the marital assets, maintenance of $250K per year, and about two hundred years of couples counseling before a final judgment, but maybe I overstate the counseling ask”.
“I don’t suppose that there’s anything very surprising about any of that. Do you suppose that I could toss her a couple of million bucks and just be done with the whole thing”?
“Jeez Philip, you know that this isn’t about the money or any of the other bullshit. The woman is mad in love with you and wants you back. Unfortunately, she hasn’t put her other lover’s cock on the block as a bargaining chip. So, what she wants is for you to come back and, basically, take up where you left off with her possibly being a little more considerate in her extra-curricular fucking you over.”
“Eloise, I say this sincerely; I have never thought that Molly ever tried to “Fuck me over” as you put it. She just sees things from a specific viewpoint, for a variety of reasons, and she wants the world to conform to her as opposed to the other way around.”
“Well, in this case, it ain’t happenin’ chief! If I have to, Claire and I’ll wrestle you to the ground and give you the nut-clutch, but I am not going to participate in you rolling over for the same kind of fucking that you’ve been subjected to during your marriage.”
Eloise was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke again her eyes swam with tears, “Philip, you’re one of the good guys, an endangered species, especially among us scummy lawyers. Believe me when I say that you’ve done nothing wrong here, except maybe validating that crazy bitch’s bad habits early in your relationship. But, Philip, there’s nothing the matter with you, and she’s no different from any bar slut who wants to fuck everything in sight, but then wants to go to the marriage bed a virgin. Buddy, you just can’t have it both ways, and deep down she knows it. But, in you, she found the genie in the lamp. You’re her good guy who was willing to give her the golden ride pass, to listen to her bullshit, and who loved her enough to give it credence. She’s a cake-eater, Phil! She wants to eat her cake, your cake, everybody’s cake, and then when she shits it out, she wants to form her crap into a cake shape, and then everyone else eats that calling it the best cake they’ve ever had. I am not letting you eat a shit cake, Philip!”
After Eloise’s tirade Phil Laughlin looked at her long and hard, abruptly rose from his chair, walked around her desk, grabbed her by the arms, pulled her out of her chair, hugged her as if his life depended on it, and began sobbing in her hair as he let all the grief, disappointment and hurt accumulated in twenty-one years pour out of him. And Eloise cried with him, for the good, decent man he was, and in bitter disgust for the bitch that did this to him.
After they both had somewhat gained their composure and used a mountainous pile of tissues mopping up tears and snot, Philip looked across the desk at her. “Thank you so much, Eloise, I think you’ll be my friend forever if you’ll have me. As to Molly, do what you need to do; I have to get away from her, for my own self-preservation.”
She smiled placidly at him, her piranha teeth almost showing, “Consider yourself divorced, buddy”.
**********
Telephone Call: Bernard Raffin to Molly Laughlin
“Hi, Ms. Laughlin, Bernie Raffin here.”
“Hi, Bernie. Any news?”
“Well, yes”, he hesitated, as if choosing his words, “We received a response to our proposed settlement.”
“Did you see any signs that Phil wants to talk to avoid a contentious proceeding, she asked hopefully?”
“Well, as to that….,” he trailed off.
“What did they counter-propose,” Molly probed, feeling as if she was having to pry everything out of him?
“There was no actual counter-proposal as such,” he said haltingly.
“What did they say,” she demanded?
He hesitated, “The response was only two words he said haltingly.”
“For god’s sake Bernie, what did it say?”
“I’m sorry, Molly, but it said, “Fuck You.”
As Bernie Raffin waited for a response, he heard crying for a few seconds before the connection was broken.
**********
Molly Laughlin’s Final Therapy Session
Walking into Frank Condon’s comfortable office was, by this time, nothing new for Molly Laughlin. They had four sessions behind them, and she was as frustrated now as she was during that first visit. In her mind, Frank was being obstructionist, insisting on gearing their meetings solely for the purpose of making her accept the fact that Philip was leaving her. Molly continued to try to make him see that their time could be better spent trying to think up a course of action that would help Philip see that he wouldn’t be better off with her.
On this particular day, Molly was in a bad frame of mind, having wasted a trip to New York City in discussions with the foreign minister of Chad trying to promote a change in foreign investment regulations. She wasn’t sure if she was angry about the discussions, or whether the discussions were unsuccessful because of the distractions in her personal life.
She plopped down in her chair, and before Doctor Condon could speak, she said, “No Frank, I don’t want coffee. I know that’s just a bonding tool, and I don’t want any bonding today, I want some straight talk between us.”
He raised his eyebrows, settled back in his chair, and used the act of sipping his cold coffee to consider Molly. He saw a woman stretched as tightly as a wire, almost humming with frustration and anger. He had seen her anger building during their sessions, and had, to this point, been completely unsuccessful in his efforts to help her calm down. In actuality, he believed that she didn’t want to calm down, that she preferred the anger to the feelings of futility and frustration that she had no tools to defeat. While there was always a chance to change things and limit damage, he felt that the window for that was rapidly closing.
“I understand your concerns, Molly, and you know that I’ll do anything I can to help you.”
“No, you won’t, Frank!” Molly said with some heat, “What you’ll do is continue to try to steer me into giving up on my marriage to Philip, to try to make me roll over, and I’m telling you now, that I’LL NEVER FUCKING ACCEPT IT!”
“Molly, you have to believe you that I’m not trying to get you to give up on your marriage to Phil; I’m trying to help you understand that there is no longer a marriage to give up on. I can tell you with all regret, but with certainty, that Philip has made an irrevocable decision, and there’s really nothing you nor I could say, to change it. The only thing that might make a blip on Philip’s radar would be if you offered to give up Sam Freskin, but you, I, and Philip know that’s not going to happen; and I personally don’t think that would even make him come back to you. Molly, Philip sees your past relationship as one that is coercive, and that you used his love for you to emotionally force him to accept your relationship with another man. He’ll never forgive you for that.”
“GODAMMIT, HE LOVES ME AS MUCH AS I LOVE HIM, I KNOW THAT! I KNOW IT!”
“Molly, you have to see it from Philip’s point of view. From where he sits, you can’t love him and make him miserable for going on twenty-two years, the two are mutually exclusive concepts. He sees the situation as one in which one party had everything she wanted, all the time, and the other had only misery.”
“I don’t see it that way, Frank. It’s impossible for me to accept that Philip didn’t understand all the things we discussed before we were married and that he would have stayed with me for all of these years if he were that miserable and didn’t love me, I DON’T CARE HOW MUCH HE WANTED TO PROTECT PATRICIA!”
“That’s what we have to work toward, Molly, toward helping you understand that’s what actually has happened, that Philip feels the way he feels, and that there’s nothing that can change it at this point.”
“Well, I’m sorry Frank, but I don’t believe that bullshit. I realize that you told me at the beginning that our sessions would be directed toward my acceptance of a divorce, but I really didn’t believe that a mental health professional would participate in giving up on a happy marriage”.
“But, Molly, it hasn’t been a happy……”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR THAT CRAP!”
She stood, tall, furious, beautiful, and lost. More calmly she said, “Doctor Condon, you have my apologies for my outburst, but I don’t think that our meetings will serve any further constructive purpose. If you’ll please send a bill for any outstanding fees to my home, I’ll make sure that it’s promptly taken care of.”
With that, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room in a swirling cloud of haute couture and furious woman.
Dr. Condon just shook his head and picked up his phone.
**********
Telephone Call: Doctor Frank Condon to Philip Laughlin
“Frank, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”
“Yeah, well, I thought I ought to call you.”
“About what?”
“Well, shit,” he said frustratedly, “Molly just had a semi-meltdown, fired me, and walked out in a very agitated state. She, apparently finally, completely realized that I was only trying to help her accept the inevitable rather than helping her get you back, in spite of the fact that I told her that in the very beginning.”
“I told you from the jump that she’d never accept it, that she’s enough of a narcissist to think that whatever makes her happy makes everyone happy.”
“Phil, I just don’t agree with that. If she were a true narcissist, she’d be like that in every aspect of her life, but that’s just not the case. From everything you’ve told me and everything that’s come out in our sessions, she’s a wonderful, giving, kind person in every other way. I believe that this outlook of hers, this semi-polyamory is a result of what she saw as a happy, successful, loving childhood, and she can’t understand why that won’t work for everyone. I’m not going into specifics of the things we talked about because, my professional relationship with her is a little nebulous, but I’ll go so far as to say that this attitude isn’t a conscious decision and that I believe she’s never had any intention of hurting you. What I am going to do is send a copy of my abstract of both your and Molly’s sessions to whichever judge handles the case, and I’ll even testify if you like, but I’m not going to go into any deeper detail. Just know this, she’s going to fight you.”
Philip was quiet for a moment before answering. “Thanks for the heads-up Frank, I can only be grateful for what you tried to do for Molly. It makes me very sad to see her unhappy because you of all people know that I love her. The process is going to be rough, and I want to continue our sessions after the smoke clears a little. I’d say that I’ll need help getting on with my life.”
“Call me any time, Phil. I’m here when you need me.”
**********
Telephone Call: Eloise Kline to Philip Laughlin
“Eloise, tell me you have some good news. The way my day has been going, I need some.”
“I don’t have anything really good Phil, but it’s also not anything that we didn’t expect. Bernie Raffin called me a little while ago to let us know that they’ve requested and been granted a preliminary hearing at which Molly’s going to request couples counseling. While you can never be sure what’ll happen in these things, the case has been assigned to Judge Antonia Bartelli, and she’s about as good as you can get. She’s somewhere around 200 years old, takes no shit from anyone, and is one of the sharpest and fairest legal minds in the country. The best part is that she has used Frank Condon as a court-appointed expert on several occasions and has a lot of respect for his opinion. If we submit Frank’s report and have him testify, I’m pretty sure that you’ll avoid having to go through the ordeal of having to sit around listening to Molly for a few months.”
“If that can happen, it would be a huge plus for me, Eloise. You know that I still love Molly and probably always will. But the only way that this suppurating wound is going to heal is to have no contact with her at all, and even after having been away from her for only a few weeks, a lot of my depression and anxiety seem to be letting up even though I miss her. I don’t want to have to go into a process that just opens everything up again.”
“Well, I’m glad you put it that way because if it comes down to rolling around in the legal dirt, we’ll get Frank Condon to say just that, and use it as a reason to avoid counseling. I mean, we wouldn’t be lying if we maintain that counseling would not only be unproductive but that it would be a danger to your emotional well-being.”
“You wouldn’t be bullshitting, that’s for certain. God, Eloise, I’m just so tired all the time. Until I moved out of the house, I didn’t realize what fucking misery I’ve been living in for so long. I mean, I don’t want to give the impression that Molly and I don’t live in the lap of luxury, and that we haven’t enjoyed a moderately happy married life with all the good sex that you’d want, but if you only knew what pain I felt every time Molly cheerfully kissed me goodbye with her overnight bag in her hand on the way to let Sam Freskin fuck her, I can’t even describe it.”
“Oh, buddy, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how you managed to stick it out as long as you have. I know that you only did it for your daughter.”
“Yeah, and though I know that she understands the issues involved, and supports my wanting to be happy, to a large extent she’s completely bought into Molly’s view of love and the world. Can you believe that she has two fucking steady boyfriends at college?”
“Aw, shit! Another emotional train wreck just waiting to happen.”
“And, Eloise, it just breaks my heart to know that someday, unless she changes her ways, she’s going to have to go through the same thing Molly and I are going through now.”
“Phil, all you can do is let the process play out and hope that she sees the light somewhere along the line. We’ll talk a time or two before the hearing to make sure we have all our ducks regimented, but the worst part of it for you will be having to be in the same room as Molly.”
“If it moves us toward an ending, I’m willing to do what it takes, Eloise.”
“OK, buddy. I’ll be talking to you.”
**********
The Counseling Hearing
Eloise Hite and Claire walked with Phil Laughlin through the marble hallways of the courthouse the echoes of their passage dying behind them.
“This is extremely unusual, Phil, I’ve never tried a case in what we call a doghouse. It’s actually a conference room and the judge has ruled that the only people that will be allowed in will be witnesses, principles, and court officials; no public observers at all. I didn’t request it, and if Bernie had, he’d have had to inform me, so I don’t know what’s going on.”
They were cutting the 9:00 AM appointed time closely and walked in the door exactly on the dot. Frank Condon was sitting at a chair along the wall, a few feet from Patricia. Other than the two of them the only others in the room were the lawyers and their assistants, the court reporter, clerk and bailiff, and Phil and Molly.
Philip looked like he had just stepped off the pages of GQ in his charcoal grey silk, Italian Pagliazi suit, white silk shirt with a very, very faint maroon check, and an extremely pale mango-colored tie. His thick sandy-colored hair with its shaggy $500 haircut helped distract from the bags under his desolate eyes but couldn’t fully hide his emotionally distraught state from Molly.
She, too, contributed to the idea of a gorgeous couple who had wandered into the wrong room, who were both so beautiful that they belonged together. With her tall, statuesque frame, her lustrous blue-black hair falling around her stunning porcelain oriental face, and her ramrod straight back, her image of placid certitude was belied only by the pooling, unshed tears in her eyes. Molly’s $3000 Marie Constantine dress draped her as if it had grown around her, to mesh with her body in natural symmetry.
Before the principals had fully settled, a door opened and was held by a bailiff, as a tiny bowling-ball-shaped woman barely five feet tall stormed into the room followed by her clerk. She was dressed in a black suit with a white blouse, rather than judicial robes and wore what appeared to be black New Balance shoes on her feet. She settled at a separate desk, facing the room but at the same level, whacked around some folders, and generally took her time getting comfortable. She looked around at the people in the room and took a sizable breath before she spoke.
“I have been on the bench for many years. I am eighty-three years old, and I have seen many, many fucked-up things in courtrooms in my career. I will have to say, though, that this particular marital dispute may possibly be the most fucked up. We are not on the record as of yet, and I want to say a few things to everyone involved before we proceed.”
At this point, Judge Bartelli paused and looked down at the tabletop for a very long moment visibly gathering her thoughts
“In this room, we will deal with the dispute between two very prominent members of the Washington community, both of whom, in their professional lives are dedicated to finding common ground for their clients. Both have done immeasurable service to not only the United States government, but to the world as a whole. I admire and respect both parties and hope for an outcome that will satisfy and benefit both, though I doubt that will happen.”
“You will notice that we are hearing this case in what I prefer to call the “Small courtroom” rather than “The doghouse” as some of you may prefer”, she looked amusedly at Eloise, who had the smiling grace to look away, “And we are doing that because I have decided that this dispute between the parties should not be subject to minute examination by the public for the sole purpose of their amusement. I know that neither of the attorneys involved requested a closed hearing and that it might be considered somewhat irregular, but in the final analysis, it is my courtroom wherever it may be, and it’s what I want. In addition, at the end of the proceedings, I will entertain motions to seal the record,” she said looking pointedly at each of the lawyers.
“Further, we’re going to conduct this hearing and the final presentation of the petition, at another time, in a more informal manner than normal, and that is simply to diminish the pain that these two people embroiled in this dispute are forced to endure.”
Bernard Raffin, Molly’s lawyer rose, “Your Honor…”
“Be quiet and sit down, Professor Raffin, I’ll tell you when you can talk.”
He sat, visible taken aback, it was the first time in years that Professor Bernard Raffin had been chastised in a courtroom, and he had forgotten how it felt.
“Now, where was I,…oh, yes; what we’re going to do is to swear everyone who will be offering any testimony at all en masse, and you will all remain sworn for the duration of the process. There will be no witness stand as such, and witnesses will simply testify from their seat at the table. And this is a big qualification, I will interject questions when I do not believe that counsel is eliciting all the information necessary for me to make an informed ruling.”
Professor Raffin rose again, but before he could speak, the Judge pointed a finger and her intense small black eyes at him and said, “Don’t piss me off, Mr. Raffin.”
He decided that she gave good advice and sat back down.
“OK, the totality of what I am saying here is that I intend to run this whole proceeding as painlessly and simply as possible. Mr. Raffin, Ms. Kline put aside your bags of tricks, go with the flow, and we’ll try to be out of here quickly, efficiently, and with as little bloodshed as possible. Please do not test me on this. I have a great-granddaughter’s fourth birthday party to attend this afternoon, and I do…not…want…to…be…in…a…bad…mood. OK, everybody ready? All right, Carl, we’re going on the record.”
The bailiff rose as the court reporter’s fingers hovered over the stenograph and he called out, “All those in attendance, draw near and be silent, Court is now in session, Superior Court Judge Antonia Bartelli presiding. At the bar comes Philip Braxton Laughlin seeking dissolution of marriage from Michiko Satomi Yoshida Laughlin, citing grounds of “Irreconcilable Differences”. All principles and parties to this action being present, Court is convened.”
The Judge gazed around at the parties and began. “I see the plaintiff is represented by my old,” she smiled, “Or should I say, long-time acquaintance, Ms. Eloise Kline, of the firm of Kline, Billings, and Cate, and the defendant is represented by Mr. Bernard Raffin of Georgetown School of Law. Any representational changes or additions, counsel?”
“No, your Honor,” both responded.
“OK, we’re here today to entertain arguments on the matter of a request by the defendant in this action to require couples counseling before the trial for final dissolution of marriage is heard. Is that correct Mr. Raffin?”
“It is, your Honor. The defendant, Professor Doctor Michiko, or Molly Laughlin, as she is more commonly known, maintains that the action by her husband Philip Laughlin was commenced precipitously without discussion between the two parties sufficient to solve marital difficulties between them that the plaintiff would deem serious enough to seek dissolution of marriage. The defendant maintains that both parties continue to harbor deep and abiding love for one another and that all avenues of effort to save the marriage have not been exhausted until marriage or couples counseling has been attempted.”
“Very well, Mr. Raffin. Since Defendant has sought this action, you may call any witnesses that you feel necessary to support your arguments, and you, Ms. Kline, may do the same. I reserve the right to address and question any witness from the bench”.
She looked to her right, “Carl, please swear the witnesses.”
The bailiff rose, “All those informed by counsel that they will be bearing witness to the matters addressed in this filing please rise and raise your right hands. Do you swear or affirm that you will reply truthfully regarding all issues upon which you are questioned in this matter? Please respond I do or state your reservations.”
All replied, “I do.”
After everyone was seated, Judge Bartelli said, “You may call your first witness, Mr. Raffin.”
“Thank you, your Honor, the Defense calls Professor Doctor Michiko Laughlin”.
Molly began to rise, but the Judge reminded her, “You may just testify from your seat at the conference table Dr. Laughlin.”
“Ms. Laughlin would you please state your name for the record,” Raffin said, looking down at a file.
“My name is Michiko Laughlin, I live at 119 Dogwood Close, Washington, D.C.”
“And what is your profession.”
“I am a tenured Professor of Economics at Georgetown University, a research fellow at the Brookings Institute, and a consultant to the United Nations Commission on Economic Development for Third World Nations.”
“What educational degrees do you hold, if you please?”
“I earned double Bachelor of Science Degrees in Economics and Computational Mathematics from Stanford University and a Doctorate in Economic Theoretical Analysis from Georgetown University where I now teach.”
“Now, Dr. Laughlin, Molly, how long have you been married to Philip Laughlin”?
She smiled slightly, “We’ve been married for nearly twenty-two years, our anniversary will be in May.”
“And has your marriage been a happy one,” he asked seriously?
“I love Philip Laughlin unreservedly, as much today as I ever have, and I can’t imagine life without him. And I think that he also loves me, just as much as he has always done.”
“Molly, is your marriage to Philip what would be described as a conventional one, and if not, would you describe it, please?”
Molly was very quiet for a few breaths, and then she began. “I see our marriage as a variation on polyamory. I am married and in love with my darling Philip, but I am also in love with and a lifetime partner with another man.”
“And how did this arrangement come to pass?”
“My other partner and I”, at this point the Judge interrupted.
“Ms. Laughlin, if you will continue to refer to the “Other man” who is outside your marriage, I would like for you to state his name for the record”.
“Yes, your honor. My other life partner is Samuel Freskin”.
The Judge continued, “And where does he reside and what does he do for a living?”
Molly responded, “As of yesterday, Sam is a Brigadier General in the United States Army, he lives in the Virginia suburbs of Washington, and he works in an arm of the United States intelligence community the details of which are unknown to me.”
Mr. Raffin looked at the Judge somewhat irritably, she looked back blankly. Raffin said, “Molly, if you’ll continue your answer about how the polyamorous arrangement that you found yourself in with your husband came about?”
“Yes, sir. Sam Freskin and I met when I was eight years old and became fast and best friends. By the time I was ten years old, I was completely in love with him and planned on marrying him when we were grown. In the ensuing years, however, Sam realized his innate and powerful patriotism and, early on decided that he would be a career military officer and serve his country. As a part of that dedication, he was almost like a priest in that he determined that the military would always be his bride and that he would have neither the time nor ability to sustain a marriage. And while I was very taken aback and hurt at the time, I eventually came to see that his dedication and deep, devout love for his country was matched only by his love for me; and that love continues today. I accepted his dedication to service, and curiously enough, it only made me love him more. So, when I accepted that we would not, could not be married with all the things that encompasses, I realized that there was nothing wrong with having that family experience and love with another man, and Sam agreed with me.”
“And what made your thoughts turn in that direction,” Raffin asked pseudo-skeptically?
“My life experiences made me believe that way”, she said. “My mother was in a triad lesbian polyamorous relationship for as long as I can remember, and I had a rapturously happy childhood in a house where everyone loved one another. I could only believe that I could find someone who would love me enough to understand my heart and my feelings, and who would be strong enough to stand with me against the judgment of others.”
“And did you find such a person?”
“I did.” Molly’s face relaxed, and she smiled, looking over at Philip, who stared at the tabletop. “I met Philip Laughlin, and it was love at first sight for me, and I believe for him also.”
“Did you tell him early on about your relationship with Mr. Freskin,” the attorney asked, looking at her intently?
“Yes. After our fourth date, I was completely besotted with him, and he was acting as silly as I. I sincerely believed that Philip was the man that I wanted to marry and have a family with, so I told him about Sam, who was at West Point at the time.”
“And you made clear to Mr. Laughlin that you also loved Mr. Freskin, and that while you were looking for a serious, committed relationship that you intended to maintain your long-established relationship with Mr. Freskin?”
“I did. I explained it exactly as I have here today and told him that a long-term committed relationship with me would necessarily involve my previously existing relationship with Sam which I intended to maintain.”
“And did Mr. Laughin respond positively to your explanation?”
“It was a tough few weeks. He walked out on me after the explanation, and I didn’t see or hear from him for two weeks. I thought I had lost him and had determined to go on with my life when he called me and asked me out. He was very honest with me and said that he didn’t know whether he could have the kind of relationship with me that I wanted, but that he’d like to see me and talk about it in more detail.”
“At this point did you have a sexual relationship with Mr. Laughlin?”
“No. I had wanted him to be able to able to examine the relationship possibilities from a purely emotional standpoint without the pressure or coercion of sex affecting his judgment.”
“So, he decided to continue purely on the basis of what he knew, not what he felt? In other words, he wasn’t’ blinded by sexual attraction?”
She grinned lasciviously, “He may have been blinded by the sex he hoped to get, but at that point, no, we hadn’t been intimate. That came on our next date after we had a beautiful, romantic dinner, and then a deeply serious conversation. Afterward, we went back to his apartment, and it was our first time together. It was wonderful, and I knew then, for certain that I loved him and wanted a family with him.”
“And what did that deeply serious conversation concern?”
“Philip told me that he had intense reservations as to whether he could successfully maintain a relationship with me if I were also in a loving, sexual relationship with another man, that he doubted that he would be able to emotionally accept what he considered only part of my heart. I assured him that it wouldn’t only be part of my heart, that when I was with him that he would be my only focus. Over the next couple of weeks, we talked the issue to death, buried it, dug it up, and talked more. Philip finally decided that he wouldn’t be able to make a decision until I actually went off for a weekend with Sam, which happened during Christmas break.”
“And how did that go?”
“When I returned, on our first date, Philip wanted to know everything about what Sam and I did, where we went, he asked some very rude and intrusive questions about the personal time we spent together, and I refused to tell him anything about it. I told him that I would never give him intimate details about my time with Sam any more than I would tell Sam any intimate facts about my time with him. I’m not sure if that did any good, but he stopped asking. Over the next six weeks, we continued to see only one another and didn’t actually discuss my other relationship. Just before Spring Break, when I was going to spend a week with Sam, Philip told me that he wanted to try to have a dedicated relationship with me and that he believed that he had enough love in his heart for me to accept the situation.”
“Did you subsequently marry, and at any later time did your husband express any reservations about your meetings and relationship with Mr. Freskin?”
“We did marry, and he never addressed the relationship directly. However, for the first couple of years, every time I left to spend time with Sam, Philip would always ask me not to go. He never couched it as a demand, or told me directly not to go, he simply asked it of me. I knew that he hadn’t fully accepted things as they were at the time, and I suppose I thought that time would solve everything.”
“And did there come a time when he stopped asking you not to go?”
“Yes, after our daughter, Patricia was born, he stopped asking. But I noticed that on those occasions, he wouldn’t let me kiss him goodbye or hug him, and I remarked on it to myself, but didn’t ascribe any deep significance to it”.
“Did you later come to understand that the birth of your daughter had some significant effect on your relationship?”
“Yes. On the day that my husband and I attended a couples session with Doctor Frank Condon, my husbands’ therapist, Philip told me that on the day Patricia was born, that when flowers and a card arrived from Sam, I insisted on calling him. During that call, I was, apparently emotional, and I expressed my happiness with Patricia’s birth, was bubbly and happy, as you might expect, and, in Philip’s hearing, told Sam how much I loved him, and that he would love the baby also”.
Molly looked down at her hands, took a tissue from the box on the table, and wiped her eyes. “I don’t even remember any of it, but what I said has been confirmed by others who were in the room. And while I don’t remember it, I’m sure that I meant every word of it. I loved Sam, I loved my little girl, and I wanted him to love her also. If I had been in full control of my faculties, I wouldn’t have subjected Philip to that conversation, even though I meant it all. But I knew Philip’s feelings, and I would have never hurt him like that. I knew that it was a special moment for just the two of us, but you’ve got to remember, that the love that I have in my heart isn’t parceled out, divided as it were. If I had my choice, I’d live in a big house with Philip and Sam, everyone would love each other, and we would be whole. But I know that’s not possible, and I wouldn’t have hurt Phil for the world.”
“Did Mr. Laughlin discuss the occurrence with you?”
“No, he didn’t, and I actually didn’t know that it had happened until it was revealed at his therapist’s office. I was completely taken aback and didn’t believe that I could have been that reckless, and after further consideration, I realized how badly he must have been hurt; but you have to remember that I was under the influence of drugs at the time.”
“And did he ever subsequently discuss being unhappy in your relationship, or with your relationship with Mr. Freskin?”
“No, he didn’t. He still wouldn’t let me kiss him before I left to see Sam, and wouldn’t let me hug him goodbye, and when I returned, he was always a little standoffish for a couple of days. But I always attributed that to a kind of atavistic male reaction to the mating ritual, that I was the metaphorical broodmare that had to be guarded”. She shrugged, “In retrospect, it appears that I was completely wrong”.
“So, your husband has filed for divorce on the grounds of “Irreconcilable Differences”, yet he made no effort over the last nineteen years to discuss his grievances with you; and what you’re asking for is simply the opportunity to enlist the help of a mental health professional to aid you and your husband in diving deep into your problems with the sole aim of saving your marriage. Is that correct?”
“Yes, it is.”
Raffin glanced at the Judge, “No more questions, your Honor.”
Judge Bartelli looked over to Eloise Kline, “Do you have questions for the witness, Ms. Kline?”
“Just a few you Honor.”
Ms. Kline turned to face Molly Laughlin.
“Ms. Laughlin, had you gone out with other boys and men in your high school and college experience while you were in love with Mr. Freskin.”
“Yes, I had”.
“Many people”?
“Several, I don’t remember specifically how many”.
“Do you remember how many in college, how many that you liked enough to give the “Other man” talk to?”
Molly looked uncomfortable, but answered, “I discussed my situation with four other guys before Philip.”
“These were men who you considered desirable, and who you thought presented possibilities as a marriage partner?”
“Yes.”
“And how many of them progressed into a relationship with you past the big reveal.”
“None. None of them wanted to proceed after discovering what it might lead to.”
“So, of the five that you were interested in enough to inform of your, how shall I say, predilections, Mr. Laughlin was the only one with a big enough heart to give you the benefit of the doubt?”
“Yes, and that’s exactly the way I would have characterized it.”
“You also understand that many would have characterized it as him being a “Sucker” don’t you Ms. Laughlin?”
“Regrettably, I do, but I never would.”
“So, if I may, Ms. Laughlin, wouldn’t it be fair to say that since Mr. Freskin wasn’t going to settle down with you in the little white cottage and have babies popping out like muffins, you started to look for someone who would, someone who would overlook you having an ongoing sexual and emotional relationship with Mr. Freskin and that it took five tries before you found someone who was sucker enough to fall for your line?”
“NO! That would not be fair,” Molly cried. “It took me five tries to find someone who loved me enough to let me live my own authentic life without trying to strap me down with the bindings of conventional society.”
“So then, did you tell Mr. Laughlin that if he loved you enough, he would let you have your lover and relationship, and still maintain a happy comfortable home with the child, two cars in the garage and church on Sunday?”
“YES, that’s what I told him, and I meant it. I am who I am, and if he didn’t love me enough, he needed to let me go and we’d both move on; but he never did, he lived by the agreement, and I don’t know what changes that now. That’s all I want, the chance to talk to him in-depth, to find out what changed, what we need to do, what adjustments we need to make to allow our loving life to continue.”
“You realize that’s all YOU want don’t you Ms. Laughlin?”
“What do mean?”
“Do you care what your husband wants?”
“God, yes, but how will I know unless he talks to me?”
“But Ms. Laughlin, it’s apparent. He wants a divorce!”
She turned her head abruptly as Molly was trying to speak, “No more questions for this witness your Honor.”
The Judge looked at two files on her desk. “Do you have further witnesses Mr. Raffin?”
“Yes, your Honor. The Defense calls Patricia Laughlin”.
Raffin glanced to his left. “Ms. Laughlin, no one wants to put you in the middle of this issue, and I’ll only be asking you fact questions. Is that OK”?
“Yes, I guess.”
“Patricia, oh, may I call you Patricia?”
“Patti, if you don’t mind.”
“OK, Patti, as far as you’re concerned, have your parents had a happy marriage?”
“As far as I was concerned, they were the ideal mom and dad, always hugging and kissing; someone was always at my school activities. I love them both so much, and this whole process has me very upset.”
“So, you never heard them fight, or heard your father raise the issue of Mr. Freskin?”
“No, never. I knew Sam was mom’s best friend that went back to when she was just a child, but I never heard daddy make an issue of it.”
“And you never saw it have an apparent effect on their relationship?”
“Not from my perspective.”
“No more questions for this witness, your Honor.”
“Ms. Kline, any questions?”
“Just a few, Judge”. Ms. Kline looked across the wide table. “Patricia, how well did you know Sam Freskin?”
“Not well at all until I met him, but Momma talked about him a lot. She told me about things they got into when they were kids, how honorable he was,” she hesitated, “How much she loved him.”
“And didn’t that strike you as odd, to hear your mom talk about how much she loved another man, other than your father?”