Child of Her Heart

“You need to see a lawyer. Bryon needn’t think he can walk off and take no responsibility for you and that child. Don’t you have any idea about your finances? He always paid his rent with a check, so you have a checking account.”

“His uncle died and left him several thousand dollars a few months back. That’s in a savings account Of course, Bryon makes a big salary, but we spend lots of money, too.” Sonya thought about their affluent tastes. Bryon wouldn’t have anything but the best clothes and furniture. He loved his fancy, foreign car and eating out at the best restaurants in the city.

“I have an electrician coming to do some work, and I have to go,” Leta said, “but I’d advise you to check into your affairs quickly. If he’s the kind of skunk who won’t assume his responsibility as a father, it’s hard to tell what he’ll do.”

“I still think this is just temporary,” Sonya insisted. “He really isn’t the kind of person to act this way.”

“You poor thing! You still love him, don’t you?”

“Of course I love him. When you’ve been in love with someone for three years, you don’t forget it overnight.”

“More the pity for you! If a man mistreats me, I can fall out of love mighty quick. I tell you, see a lawyer. When a man starts to stray, he keeps it up. You’ll be better off without him.”

“I don’t feel that way, Leta, although I may be stupid to still care for him,” she added sadly.

When Leta left, Sonya showered, styled her hair and dressed in brown knit slacks with matching cotton blouse. After applying her makeup carefully, she peered in the mirror.

“I really don’t look too bad now.” No one would suspect by looking at her that she was pregnant, so surely Bryon hadn’t left because of her appearance.

The long day loomed before her. What could she do? She needed milk and bread, so perhaps she should go to the grocery store. She checked her purse—less than ten dollars—that probably wouldn’t be enough, but she wouldn’t need many groceries if Bryon wasn’t coming home.

Their checking account was joint, so she could write a check, even though she didn’t often do that. Since Bryon had been an accountant before he became a stock broker, it had seemed simpler to let him take care of paying bills.

She couldn’t find the checkbook, nor could she find the file in which Bryon stored the statements of their savings account. Sonya’s hands shook, but she still refused to believe the obvious. She searched the desk for an hour, but she couldn’t find any of their financial records. In her purse she found one check that she carried for emergencies. She could buy groceries with that, she supposed, but what if there wasn’t any money in the checking account? They overspent occasionally, causing Bryon to borrow from his father.

Frantic with worry, Sonya left the apartment hurriedly and walked three blocks to the branch bank where Bryon conducted their business. She handed her ID card to the teller.

“I’m Mrs. Bryon Dixon. I’d like to know the balance in our checking and savings accounts, please.”

“Just a moment,” the young woman said. She punched some information into the computer on her desk, and Sonya waited impatiently drumming her fingers on the marble ledge in front of her. The music wafting throughout the bank, intended to be soothing to the customers, rattled on her nerves like a nail drawn across a windowpane.

“There’s a balance of $929.38 in your checking account, but the savings account is closed. One withdrawal closed it two weeks ago.”

“Thank you very much,” Sonya said through lips so stiff she could hardly move them. She stumbled out of the building and paused. Which way do I turn to go home? She wandered around a few minutes and finally stopped an elderly man.

“I’m looking for the Sandhill Apartments. Could you direct me to them, please?”

“Turn north, ma’am. You can see the roof of the building from here.”

Strange she could remember the name of the apartment, but not the location. Was she losing her mind? she wondered as she trudged home.

When the elevator reached the third floor, Sonya ran down the hall to Leta’s apartment. The electrician was still there, but, noting Sonya’s agitation, Leta dismissed him quickly. When the door closed behind the man, Leta asked, “What has happened?”

“Bryon has taken all of the savings, and there’s less than a thousand dollars in checking. I don’t even have a checkbook. What am I going to do?”

“The first thing is to take the money out of that checking account before he snatches it”

“I have one check in my purse.”

“That’s all you need. Go to the bank and close that account This afternoon I’m taking you to see my lawyer.”

Sonya didn’t think she could walk to the bank again, and when she went for the car in the garage beneath the apartment house, she noticed Bryon’s empty parking place. She had supposed his car was at the airport, but no doubt he had driven to California since he didn’t expect to return. When traveling by plane, they usually took their old car to leave at the airport, but she hadn’t questioned his decision to drive the new car and leave the old one for her. Come to think about it, she hadn’t questioned anything that Bryon did. She loved him and trusted him completely, why should she have doubted him?

Sonya filled out the check for $929.38, drove to the bank’s drive-in and received the total amount in cash. Returning to the apartment, she spent the rest of the morning looking through Bryon’s desk. The gas and electric bills, car payment, and credit card statements totaled more than the cash she had.

Leta rang the bell at one o’clock. “Ready?” she said.

“Why is it necessary to see a lawyer? For one thing, I don’t have any money to pay attorney fees.”

“Lawyers are used to waiting for their money until the divorce settlement is made.”

“Divorce! I don’t want a divorce.”

“Even if this is just a separation, you’ll have to make some arrangements for him to support you.”

“I’ll get a job.”

“That’s assuming you can find a good job right away! Besides, Bryon should pay child support.” She pointed to the desk where Sonya had stacked the bills. “Someone will have to pay those, and you know you can’t. If you get a job tomorrow, it will be weeks before you would receive a check.”

“When is our rent due?” Sonya gasped, realizing that she hadn’t considered that obligation.

“You’re paid through the rest of this month, but don’t worry about that.”

Sonya reluctantly followed Leta out of the apartment building. As Leta drove along busy Dodge Street, she said, “The lawyer’s name is Daniel Massie. He represented me in my last divorce. Before I went to him, I’d heard he was always on the woman’s side, and I believe it. He surely held my ex’s feet to the fire.”

Leta parked in an underground garage. “Massie’s office is on the fourth floor of this building. I telephoned and made an appointment, so I’ll introduce you and then wait in the reception room. You’ll be more at ease if you talk to him alone.”

“I don’t know what to say, and I’m scared.”

“No need to be. He’s a gracious man.”

Sonya’s stomach heaved, and she nearly retched during the elevator ride to the fourth floor. She pressed sweaty hands to her abdomen and leaned against the wall, thankful that no one else except Leta had witnessed her discomfort.

Daniel Massie greeted Leta warmly when they entered his office, and after the introduction, he turned to Sonya with a smile and shook hands with her.

“I’ll be in the waiting room,” Leta said.

Massie motioned Sonya to a chair beside his desk. Daniel Massie was a man at whom people, especially women, took a second glance. Even as he leaned back, at ease in his leather chair, he exhibited a hint of latent authority. He was not handsome in the usual sense, yet his face was made up of winsome features—brilliant gray eyes, small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and a warm smile. Yes, it was a face meriting a second glance, but although he had the kindest eyes she’d ever seen, Sonya couldn’t meet his gaze.

What kind of person must he think she was when her husband had deserted her?

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Dixon?”

“I don’t know,” she murmured. What a dumb remark! And she made it worse by stammering, “I didn’t want to come, but Leta thought I should.”

What had happened to her self-confidence? she wondered.

“How old are you?” the lawyer said.