A Way to Get By Read online

  He was still a putz, however.

  “Let’s just say your ex-wife is having a little trouble moving on. She and I have been talking, you know. Called me the week after you moved out. Anyway, it seems she can’t come up with the money needed to file for the dissolution of your marriage. I was hoping you and I could help her—and, actually—help each other out.”

  Asshole. “You sure work quick, Brummel. The ink hasn’t even dried on our divorce papers and already you’re sticking your nose in it. Why the hell would you think I’d want anything to do with helping you?”

  A sly grin preempted his arrogant reply. “Because it would help her, too, and you’re a sucker for her happiness. Plus, I can make it worth your while.”

  The last time this guy tried to “make it worth my while,” he was offering me fifty grand to cancel the wedding. I punched his lights out, ripped up his check, and threatened to cram it down his throat. Bren and I were married a month later.

  I was about ready to tell him he could shove this meeting right alongside that rejected check when he asked, “Did she ever talk about me?”

  I guessed it wasn’t enough for Brummel to assume she thought about him from time to time. He was trying to make sure I knew she did. I wanted to smash his face in all over again, but instead, I decided to be honest. “Yeah. Your name came up sometimes.”

  “We’ve always had a really intense… connection. Looks like not even you could break it.”

  The smug smile on his smarmy face almost had me launching off the chair. But I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors by beating the snot out of him. Not just yet, anyway.

  “Why don’t we just get down to business, Brummel.”

  Beau gave an impressed nod of his head as he straightened behind his desk. “Interesting choice of words. You were always smart, Edwards. I’m counting on you to be smart now.” He opened a side drawer and the scent of lavender-tinged cedar wafted in the air between us as he pulled out a leather-bound checkbook. “Here’s the deal: I’m going to cover the filing fees to the court. That’s my gift to Brenda—and myself, if I’m going to be honest.”

  “Honest? Why start now?”

  There was nothing honest about this guy. He was always taking the shortcuts. When we were back in school, I helped him cheat on his mid-term exams, a move that ultimately got him accepted to Princeton. He wasn’t such a monumental jerk back then so we were essentially kind of friendly, but not close enough for me to put my ass on the line just to help him out.

  He’d originally come to me to tutor him. I was flattered by that. Most people had no idea that I was actually really smart. Brummel not only noticed, but offered to toss me a couple bucks for my services. Believe it or not, the money wasn’t my biggest motivating factor; it was how desperate the guy looked when he’d asked. Plus, he’d just gotten dumped. By Brenda. To go out with me.

  Maybe he was only using the tutoring thing as an excuse to size me up because he spent more time poking his nose into my relationship with Bren than he ever spent studying. However, once Exam Day approached, he genuinely panicked. That’s when he hashed his plan for me to simply help him cheat.

  To this day, I still don’t know why I went along with it. I think I was just trying to get rid of him. Hell, if he got into Princeton, he’d be moving away, right? He couldn’t keep hanging around Bren and me, circling like a buzzard, waiting for our relationship to die. If it would get him out of our lives, why not toss the poor bastard a bone? The fifty bucks he tossed me was simply a bonus.

  It wasn’t until I was older and wiser that I realized how much more my help had been worth to him. He would’ve probably landed on his feet regardless—given his daddy’s money—but my assistance ensured a quicker ride. We both knew it.

  He ignored my jab for the time being and continued. “As a way to show your appreciation, I’m going to ask you to stay out of my way while I pursue her. As a way to show mine, I’m willing to throw in a little extra to ensure that you do just that. Would you like to haggle over price or shall we do this in a civilized manner?”

  Civilized? The guy just said flat-out that he was planning to “pursue” my wife. Despite our current marital status, that took a lot of nerve. This guy was just about on my last one.

  I had to unclench my teeth to answer. “I guess that depends. What kind of number do you have in mind?”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “Five.”

  “Try again.”

  “Ten,” he tossed out confidently.

  I practically snorted. “I expected a negotiation, but I’m not going to just sit here and let you insult me.” Beau had been sitting there with his pen hovered over the blank check, an eyebrow raised in my direction. Classic intimidation tactic, as if it were a foregone conclusion that I’d jump at his generous offer. Fuck this Ivy League prick. “Twenty.”

  When he pretended to look shocked, I added, “You owe this to me.”

  “I owe you nothing. That transaction has long since been settled. Besides, one could say that you, in fact, owe me. You took my girlfriend ten years ago and we’ve hardly spoken since.”

  “Bullshit.” He and I both knew about the covert phone calls, late at night. Maybe he expected Bren to keep their contact a secret from me, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew about the private line. I knew about the plans he’d been trying to make behind my back.

  I ignored his justification, though, and stayed focused on the subject. “Let’s just look at it like a down payment to get her back. You think you’re only paying me to stay out of your way, but here’s something you haven’t considered: No matter how much you offer me to back off, you know damn well she still won’t come to you willingly. She knows I don’t like you, so you’re the last person she’d ever end up with. Despite our separation, she wouldn’t disrespect me by running straight into your arms without my green light. I’m the only one who can convince her to do so.”

  His mouth pursed as he measured my words. “Why should I believe you? All of a sudden, I’m supposed to believe you’re the one who will get us together?”

  “Seems to me you don’t have much choice. It’s a gamble you’re going to have to take. And we both know you’d do anything to see it happen.” I could tell he really, really didn’t expect me to balk at his lowball offer, and was simply getting used to the idea of parting with such a large sum. Twenty thousand was more than most people made in a year. We were caught in a staredown until I broke the silence. “What’s a few extra bucks to you? You probably spend that much to have your gardener shove rosebushes up your ass or whatever freaky shit you rich boys are into. You want Brenda back, it’ll cost you twenty thou.”

  “Fifteen.”

  “The price just went up to twenty-five. Keep trying to negotiate this and I’ll wind up walking away with your house.”

  He tried to gain the upper hand as he asked, “How can I guarantee you’ll make this happen?” but he was already filling out the check.

  I shrugged. “I guess you can’t. But you seem to think you can do it without me. This is just a little extra added insurance that I won’t be the thing standing in your way.”

  He ripped the note out of its binding and handed it across the desk with a sneer. I couldn’t understand the confident look on his face. Didn’t he just lose this battle?

  “Jesus, Edwards. I never thought you’d stoop so low as to sell your own wife.”

  My hands were clenched in fists as I ripped the payment from his fingers. “I can’t believe you’d stoop so low as to even suggest that this is what’s happening here. The fact is, you pompous little shit, I know you can give her a good life. And like you said, I’m a sucker for her happiness. If Bren is happy, I’ll be happy.” I held up his check between us. “I look at this as nothing more than icing on the cake.”

  Chapter 14

  Tell Her About It

  EDDIE

  Thursday, October 9

  1980

  “Eddie, I told you there was no reason to come over here. We
could’ve discussed this on the phone.”

  Hello to you, too, Bren. I hadn’t even stepped one foot into my own apartment yet and she was already trying to get me to leave. “I wanted to see you. Let’s call it an early birthday present.”

  She leaned against the door frame, her expression irritated. “Do you really think that’s healthy right now? We’re supposed to be getting used to the idea of being apart, remember?”

  “I’ll never get used to it, Bren.”

  She sighed and stepped to the side, allowing me access to my home for the first time in weeks. I couldn’t believe how much I’d missed the crappy little place. It was a decent apartment in a low-rent complex with a single bedroom, a cramped bath, and a “cozy” living room sporting wall-to-wall shag. The selling point was the kitchen. Since I made my living as a chef, it was truly the only room that I cared about, and thankfully, my fiancée indulged my request. Brenda supported me enough to settle for a dilapidated apartment in a questionable neighborhood in order to let me have my state-of-the-art workspace.

  And boy did we have our fun in every inch of it.

  A montage played across my brain, all the many encounters we’d had in every corner of this room over the years. The couch, the coffee table, against the fridge…

  I ran my hand over the snack bar, thinking about one wild night in particular—we’d gone for it right on top of my abandoned attempt at strudel—and stopped short when I spotted the legal documents scattered across its surface.

  The sight of our divorce papers shot a bullet through my heart. “Breaking out some light reading, Bren?”

  She bit her lip and nodded her head. “I was just getting everything organized so I could mail them to you.” She slid onto the stool at the counter and explained, “I went to see Tony and Ginny to apologize. Ginny immediately started crying, told me how sorry she was for the way things went down the other night at dinner.”

  Classic Ginny. The woman was too softhearted to ever hold a grudge.

  “Anyway, she had Tony draft up a list of lawyers for us. I met with a few and finally found one who would start the paperwork with a minimal retainer. I used this month’s rent money for the down payment.” She paused on an inhale. “I was thinking maybe I could sell my ring to pay him the rest?”

  “You what?” I sneered. “Bren. There’s no way I’d let you do that. How could you even consider—”

  “I didn’t know what else to do! I’m sorry. I figured I could buy it back someday.” Her defiant posture finally deflated as she took a shaky breath. A tear rolled down her cheek and landed on the sleeve of her magenta blouse. I was relieved to see a hint of the real Brenda coming through, even if the trade-off was having to see her cry. “I can’t imagine I would’ve ever been able to go through with it anyway. I just didn’t see any other options. Even after calling…”

  Brummell. She didn’t say it out loud, though. She didn’t have to. I already knew.

  I reached my hand out toward her but stopped short of actually touching her shoulder. “It’s okay, Bren. Just… I’m glad you thought to ask me first.” My mouth cracked a small smile as I added, “But I don’t think we could get enough cash from that piddly thing to even buy a bowl of soup, much less pay a lawyer.”

  That wrung a choked laugh from her throat.

  “Besides,” I added proudly, “I already came up with the money.”

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, I wasn’t feeling quite so proud.

  “You sold me to Beau Brummel?” Bren shrieked as she paced around the living room, practically bouncing off the walls as she huffed into the air.

  “Calm down. I didn’t ‘sell’ you. Jesus. Why does everyone keep saying that?”

  Bren stopped her pacing as a dead silence hung between us. “Everyone who? Who else knows about this?”

  “No one. Just… Brummel said the same thing.”

  She threw her hands in the air and shouted, “So even he thinks he bought me? What the hell, Eddie?”

  “Oh, so you can go to him for money but I can’t?” She went silent at that as I massaged my neck and tried to make her see the logic in my decision. “Look. You and I both know that you’ve been in contact with the guy. I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t already know you wanted it. Brummel can give you the kind of life I never could. I thought I was doing a good thing.”

  “My husband playing matchmaker could never be a good thing. What were you thinking?”

  I couldn’t keep the derision from my voice as I snickered and answered, “I was thinking I’d help you in your quest to cash in.”

  Her mouth dropped open as her eyes turned to slits. The look she was aiming at me felt like a slap across the face. Man, was she pissed. “If I wanted to be obligated to the guy, I would have accepted the money he offered me. But I didn’t. I turned him down. And then you go and take it anyway! You really think Beau Brummel is what I want?! You think I can’t do better than him?!”

  I gave a rub to my jaw and shot back, “You did do better than him. You were married to me, remember?”

  “Of course I remember. I thought we’d live happily ever after.”

  “I was happy.”

  “Yeah, well too bad you had to go and mess everything up.”

  I couldn’t even have this argument with her anymore. We’d been talking in this same circle for months. I knew I wasn’t going to change her mind.

  She let out with a sigh, running a hand over her hair. “So what happens now, Eddie? If I don’t share his bed, you’ll have to give the money back?”

  “That’s not how this works. I wouldn’t do that to you. He paid me to back off and give you the okay, not to set you two up. I made it very clear that if you don’t want him, then that’s his problem. I won’t have to give it back.” I pulled my wallet from my pocket and rifled through the fold of bills, landing a sizeable stack of them on the coffee table. “Here. I only came by to give you some of it. PSE&G sent another damned shutoff notice weeks ago, and you’re obviously behind on the rent.” I raised an eyebrow at her as a sarcastic grin escaped from my lips. “Brummel will probably take over the rest eventually, but at least you’ll be caught up until then.”

  She put her hands on her hips, shaking her head in disbelief. “I really hate that you made this decision for me.”

  “Look, Bren. I know you like him. You wouldn’t have bothered keeping in touch with him if there wasn’t at least something there. I hate the guy, but I know he’s always been good to you. I wouldn’t have gone along with it if he was a total asshole. I just want to see you happy, I swear. It kills me, but if Brummel is going to be the guy to do it, I’d make the decision ten times over.”

  “So, you’re okay with this?”

  “No, Bren! Of course I’m not okay! But dammit. I’d rather know you were moving onto a decent guy you already know than some random jerk off the street.”

  She crossed her arms, staring off at the air behind my head. “I don’t even know if I’m ready for this.”

  “Well, get ready. Because it’s happening. You’re the one that made sure of that. You’ve been heading down this road for months. I’m just finally ready to acknowledge it.”

  Part of me knew it was the truth. But another huge part of me was waiting for her to deny it, to tell me she didn’t want him, she only wanted me, we didn’t need to do this, we could find a way to work it out. I mimicked her crossed arms and stared her down, waiting for her to put a stop to this whole thing.

  “Okay, Eddie. You’re right.” She looked down at her feet, unable to meet my eyes as she added, “We both know I’ve been keeping Beau on the backburner. Maybe it’s time I do something about it.”

  As if on cue, the phone rang. Brenda slipped away to the bedroom to go answer it, shutting the door behind her.

  I headed into the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face and grab the milk of magnesia out of the medicine cabinet. The entirety of the room was a pukey, Pepto-Bismol pink, a fitting accompaniment
to the shot of Phillips’ I downed to settle my stomach. I sank down on the fluffy pink bath mat and waited for it to take effect, surrounded by the familiar aromas that comprised Brenda’s unique scent: The Oil of Olay on the counter, the Noxzema at the edge of the sink. The bar of Dove on the soap dish, the Dippity-Do crusted onto her hot rollers. I reached over to the ledge of the tub and pulled down a kelly-green bottle of shampoo, popped the top and took a whiff, inhaling it as though I were seeking my fix.

  I was.

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the tub, allowing the sweet fragrance to flow through my nostrils, imagining Brenda was right there on top of me, her long, black hair draped across my face. The blood under my skin felt electrified, coursing through my veins like a hot current.

  And I knew that it was over.

  It was the end.

  A flip had been switched, and I suddenly realized that from here on out, I’d be a different person from the one I thought I knew, the guy I was when I fell in love with Bren. Now I knew there’d be a black mark on my record for all eternity. One that could never be erased.

  Two stupid kids managed to fall in love and get married. We laughed and we loved and we drove each other crazy. And we were happy. But then, after all that, the rules changed. And suddenly, that good, decent part of us—that healthy, wholesome part of us—was just… done.

  No matter how things played out, come what may, we’d never be the same.

  How was I supposed to live without her? I had no idea how I was going to face the next hours much less the endless years to come. Actual tears gathered behind my eyes as I let out with a choppy breath, the pain in my chest an unbearable ache.

  I put the bottle of Prell back on the ledge and got to my feet. I snuck back out to the living room (taking note of the still-closed bedroom door) before rifling through the legal papers on the snack bar. I barely gave any of them a second glance as my hand automatically signed next to every X. Then I scribbled a quick note for Brenda, took a long, final look around the apartment… and stepped out the front door for the last time.