Evony Cataleya June 9, 2021 Spreadsheet
”Happy crapola!” he exclaimed, rising from the rollered chair and scooping accordion folds of printouts into his tattered briefcase. He snatched his worn black suit coat from a hanger on the back of the office door, switched off the fluorescent overheads, and walked to the executive offices in the adjoining building. When his audit week ended, Lester typically teamed with Lance Lott for a tour of the local watering holes. Lance was a marketing guy he‘d met when he first worked the Bourgeois account. Lance also was single, and resembled Keanu Reeves on a bad hair day. Lester considered him a ”chick magnet,” and although he himself never got lucky on their semi-annual expeditions, the other always disappeared with a babe on his arm. Lester decided, tonight would be HIS night.
About four months after my husband asked for a divorce I made an appointment to meet a divorce attorney recommended by my therapist. She was 60 years old, short, smart and focused. I thought she was great. She charged $350.00 per hour. It was good that she was focused. I was at the time furious at my husband for his recent behaviors and I told her that I wanted to file for divorce immediately. Could she explain the process to me?
I don‘t think so. My husband and I weren‘t a great married couple but we were excellent business partners. We almost never, actually maybe NEVER, fought about money. We agreed on how to raise our kids and were always honest about our finances. He made a lot of money and I had some money of my own from my grandmother and would inherit when my parents died. I knew that we would be able to sort through these things better on our own. Most significantly, he LOVED to make spreadsheets and certainly would not be willing to pay someone else make one for him. I did some research on the internet to see what our options would be. I knew we couldn‘t do it ourselves but that we would need some assistance because our finances were complicated. I learned about divorce mediators, professionals who work with couples at an hourly fee to help them navigate the process. It sounded like it would work for us so we agreed to find one. And we did. Well, I did.
Lester loved his numeric universe, but this was not how he had envisioned his life unfolding; flying hither and thither from his hometown of Hershey to wherever his firm wished to send him. Just because he was 38, single, and still living with his folks didn‘t mean his employer should take advantage of him which, in fact, his company did on a regular basis. After all, Lester had other important interests, too. The ”Four Bs” he called them: Botany, bowling, bugs and Buddy Holly. Myriad plants crowded his tiny room in his parent‘s house, forcibly sucking carbon dioxide out of anyone who entered. Bowling trophies – ranging in size from tiny silver cups to massive bronze edifices shaped like the Empire State Building – claimed space not dominated by flower pots, planter boxes, and hanging baskets.
He was an ex-divorce attorney who had seen firsthand what a messy thing divorce was when lawyers were involved. He developed a program where a couple would meet together, with him present, and work through the divorce piece by piece. Property, finances, kids, pensions. It was a great system. And he was cheap! Relatively speaking. It took about 10 months including some stops and starts (”what do you mean you want some of my inheritance? if you want my inheritance then you STAY married to me”) but in the end we were able to come to terms with each other in a reasonable and fair way.
At times, Lester became so furious his face radiated heat and fogged his glasses. When this happened, he yanked them from his puffy eyes and wiped the lenses with his tie. On this late Friday afternoon, however, Lester felt exhilarated. The printer regurgitated its last run of printouts and as he scanned the rows of figures he penciled in tick marks to indicate matches with numbers found in the corporate ledgers. The task complete for another 180 days, he removed his glasses, rubbed his aching eyeballs, and inhaled deeply to savor the fluttery feeling of excitement flooding his upper chest. Then, Lester logged off the computer, tapped the surge protector power switch with his toe, and shut down the wheezing system.