Child of Her Heart. Irene Brand

man, but I was surprised that he seemed to be really interested in my welfare. After all, he must see dozens of people with such problems in a week’s time. How could he be interested in each one?”

      “I don’t know, but he is. He makes all of his clients believe that solving their problems is his first priority. I’ve heard of a few cases when he’s represented abused women in getting their divorces and has charged no fee at all, simply because they couldn’t have gotten a divorce otherwise.”

      Sonya thought about that. It was rare to find a person who helped others so selflessly. Daniel Massie was an unusual man.

      The letter she’d been looking for had arrived when Sonya entered the apartment. She tore open the flap of the envelope with trembling hands:

      Dear Sonya,

      By this time you will have recovered from the shock of my earlier letter. As you may have gathered, I want a divorce. I hope you’ll be reasonable and not cause trouble about this, for I have no notion of returning to Omaha. You can send my clothes to the address below.

      Bryon

      Sonya dropped the letter on the floor and stamped on it. She picked up the second oriental vase and hurled it across the room. The shattered pieces joined the fragments of the other vase she hadn’t cleaned up from the carpet If she was only a possession to Bryon, perhaps if she destroyed everything else, he would turn to her.

      She went to the desk, picked up all the bills that had accumulated in Bryon’s absence and stuffed them into a stamped envelope. Angrily she scratched out a note. “If you want your clothes, you can come after them.” Before she lost her nerve, she sealed the envelope, ran downstairs, and dropped it in the mailbox in front of the apartment house.

      The next morning Sonya went to the unemployment agency and applied for work. Even as she filled out the blanks, she realized that she was a poor candidate for a job. She had no experience at anything. Being the wife of a successful stock broker wasn’t much of a recommendation for employment, and she’d taken only basic subjects her two years in college, so she had no training in any field.

      What was it her father had said? “Please don’t get married before you finish college, Sonya. The day will come when you’ll wish you had that degree.” But Sonya had ignored her father’s advice and listened to Bryon instead. “But I don’t want to wait, Sonya. If I leave you here and go off to work somewhere else, you might find another man you want to marry. I want you with me always. Don’t I mean more to you than a college diploma?”

      Sonya shook her head to rid her mind of such perplexing thoughts and continued to fill out the job application.

      The clerk who interviewed her was sympathetic and kind. She suggested that Sonya should enroll in some kind of job training at a vocational school. After scrutinizing Sonya closely, apparently taking in her expensive clothing, she said, “If you need financial help, there are federal grants available.”

      But that wouldn’t take care of her living expenses in the meantime.

      “I’ll give that some thought,” Sonya told the woman. “Thank you.”

      Acting upon Leta’s advice, Sonya spent the next week going from one business establishment to another filling out work applications. Each personnel officer was kind, but the answer was always, “We’ll telephone you if there’s an opening.” Meanwhile, Sonya’s small hoard of money dwindled rapidly.

      Several times she looked at the telephone number that Daniel Massie had given her. Did she need counseling? She found it difficult to discuss her problems with anyone, even her mother, who had telephoned again, wondering why they hadn’t heard from her, but Sonya hadn’t mentioned Bryon’s absence.

      Finally, when she had given up hearing from him, Bryon telephoned. The joy she felt when she heard his voice made her body tremble like a breeze-wafted aspen leaf.

      “Oh, Bryon, I’m so glad you called.”

      “I doubt you will be when you hear what I have to say. First of all, tomorrow, I’m sending a friend of mine to pick up my belongings. Be sure you send everything.”

      “Bryon, please, don’t you intend to come back?”

      “I think I made that plain to you before. I intend to divorce you.”

      “But you can’t do that! Bryon, I still love you. I need you. Why are you treating me this way?”

      She began to sob and he hung up on her. It was hours before Sonya stopped crying. She would have been better off if he hadn’t called, as she’d developed a numbness about his absence, and now her heartache started again.

      His clothes still lay where she had thrown them two weeks ago, and she picked them up lovingly, chagrined at the mess they were in. She worked for hours pressing the garments to make them as neat as he liked his clothing. There wasn’t anything she could do about the mutilated ties, and she questioned whether she should send them. If she didn’t, he would probably demand to know where they were, so she stacked them with his other things. Sonya had hoped that this menial service for Bryon would serve as a catharsis to rid her mind of the unkind thoughts she’d been having about her husband. Instead she actually felt unclean to love so wholeheartedly a man who no longer loved her, and perhaps never had.

      She telephoned Leta early the next morning. “Bryon is sending someone after his clothing today. Do you have any large cartons that I can use for packing?”

      “I’ll have the janitor bring some to your apartment, and I’ll help you pack. You shouldn’t have to do that by yourself.”

      When Leta saw Sonya’s stricken face, she was unusually quiet, and she didn’t make any caustic comments about the tears Sonya shed as they tied the boxes. Leta put comforting arms around Sonya’s shoulders and said, “Cry all you want to. I know you won’t believe me now, but you’ll get over this. You’ll be happy again.”

      “You’re a good friend, Leta, and I’ve found I don’t have many. Bryon has been my life for three years. The friends we had were his friends. The Shraders are the only ones who have shown me a bit of kindness since Bryon left. I feel like a pariah. Bryon is the one at fault—why does everyone shun me?”

      “I don’t know,” Leta answered, patting Sonya’s trembling shoulders. “Mostly it’s because they don’t know what to say to you. They don’t intend to be unkind.”

      “And I’ll have to lose you, too, Leta, since I can’t go on living in your apartment and not pay rent The rent will be due next week, and as you know, I can’t pay it.”

      “Hush that kind of talk. I’ll carry you until you get on your feet.”

      “But I can’t afford this apartment on what I’ll be able to make. And I hate to ask you, but could you buy the furniture? I don’t know that I have the right to sell it, but if you could buy it, that would give me some money to rent a smaller place. You could rent this as a furnished apartment, couldn’t you?”

      “I often have calls for furnished apartments, and I’ll buy the furniture if you’re determined to move, but don’t decide now. I have plenty of money, and I have no intention of setting you out on the street.” She kissed Sonya’s cheek and released her. “This is a tough break, little lady, but you’ll come through it all right. Let me know when they come for Bryon’s clothing, and I’ll have the janitor carry the boxes down to the lobby. You shouldn’t lift them.”

      All day Sonya waited, but it was after five o’clock before the doorbell rang, and she was surprised to see Gail Lantz, one of the women from Bryon’s office. Gail had attended most of the parties they’d had in the apartment. She was a divorcee, but she usually came in the company of a single man from the office. Sonya and Gail met occasionally for lunch.

      “Hello, Gail,” Sonya said. “Come in. I’m glad to see you.” What a relief to know that all of their old friends hadn’t deserted her!

      “I don’t have time to visit. I came for