Page 10 of The Last Road Trip

“Well and Heart Family Law, this is Denise. How may I help you?”

“Oh wow. Uh, hello, my name is Harriet Dallas,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to still be in the office.”

Denise chuckles. “I apologize if I startled you. Normally you’d be correct, but a few times a month we stay late to accommodate those who work second shift. You caught us on the right day.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Well, the reason for my call is I’d like to start divorce proceedings.”

There’s a brief pause. “Of course, Ms. Dallas. I can help you with that. How long have you been married?”

“Twenty-five years.”

“I see. We have appointments available on Monday if you’d like to come in and discuss your situation.”

“I’m out of town for the weekend, so Monday works.” I say.

“Great. I’ll put you down for ten o’clock with Ronetta Well, our senior partner.” The sound of typing comes through the line. “I’ll need to get some basic information from you to start your file.”

I give her my full name, Buck’s full name, our address, the date we were married, how we have adult children, but no minors. She types as I talk, the soft click of keys providing a steady background to my increasingly steady voice.

“Okay, I’ve got all that,” she says when I finish. “I’ll email you our intake forms. You can fill them out before your appointment to save time. Do you have any questions for me?”

I shake my head, then remember she can’t see me. “No, that’s all. Thank you.”

“There’s just one more thing,” she says, her voice dropping slightly. “Ms. Dallas, are you in a safe situation right now?”

The question catches me off guard. Safe. As opposed to what? As opposed to the man who drugged me to shut me up?

“Yes,” I say, the word coming out stronger than I expect. “I’m safe.”

“Good,” she says, and I can hear the genuine relief in her voice. “We’ll see you Monday at ten, then. The office is at 713 Maple Street on the second floor. Parking’s behind the building.”

“Thank you,” I say again, and then we’re saying goodbye.

I sit with the phone in my lap, watching the screen fade to black. The park is completely empty now, the dog walker and the young woman long gone. It is just me, the quiet darkness, and the staggering weight of what I’ve just set in motion.

Needing support from someone I know is actually on my side, I open my texts and scroll until I find Kwemby’s name. Our conversation from this morning is still there. Texting feels like too little; I’d rather hear his voice. I tap his contact and press call. It rings.

“Harriet?” His voice is easy and familiar, the same as it’s always been—warm, a little surprised, like he’s happy to hear from me but can’t quite believe I called. “Hey. How’s the family trip going?”

I give a short, dry laugh that doesn’t sound like me at all. “It’s been a day.”

“You okay?”

“I think I’m actually better than I’ve been in a long time,” I say, and it’s the truth. Not the whole truth, maybe, but a piece of it. “Are you nearby? Or still at the new diner with the leaky roof?”

“I’m at my place,” he says. “About twenty minutes from where you are, if you’re still at Gary’s and Christine’s. Roof’s fixed, by the way. Floor’s still drying, but we’re open for business.”

Wow, that was fast. Kwemby’s always so efficient.

“I passed a diner on the way into town,” I say. “The one with the neon sign? By the old gas station?”

“Ah yes, Merle’s,” he says. “I purchased the place a few years ago. Has good burgers and even better pie. You want to meet there?”

Perfect. As he owns several through the state, I was hoping it was one of his. “Yes. If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course. See you in thirty minutes?”

“Thirty minutes,” I agree.