I am his mother.”
“Exactly.”
“You are emotional right now.”
Half my wardrobe was boxed, my jewelry packed in a travel case, and my passport lay beside my purse. Surveying it all, I discovered a calm I hadn’t possessed earlier.
“No,” I replied. “I was emotional six months ago. Right now I’m organized.”
“Claire, do you understand what divorce from Aaron will mean?”
I wondered what Margaret expected me to fear: losing the house, the Prescott name, her dinners, charity board seats, the careful place settings and photographs in Boston
