The Recorded Deeds Arrived Before Our First Quiet Summer Show

Nora put the signed order between us and handed me a pencil.

"We'll go through it line by line."

I no longer mistook a long document for a wall. Sometimes it was a set of doors with clear handles.

I received the first two apartments, worth $68,000 and $72,000. Russell kept the third and fourth, worth $82,000 and $90,000.

The $22,800 remaining in the company account went to me. Russell owed a further $4,600 to make our shares equal.

"One hundred sixty-seven thousand, four hundred each," I said.

"For this group of assets," Nora agreed.

I checked the sum again. I liked being able to.

The judge also ordered Russell to reimburse $6,400 in forensic accounting costs and $9,600 toward my legal costs. His incomplete disclosures and the work needed to uncover the company had caused those expenses.

The false debt to Lenora reduced nothing. The attempted gift of the fourth apartment had gone nowhere.

Russell owed $20,600 in equalization and cost payments altogether. The order set a deadline and provided for enforcement if he failed to pay.

"Will he?" I asked.

"We collect the money," Nora said. "We don't grade his attitude."

Our former house had sold. After the mortgage, closing charges, and agreed adjustments, the net proceeds were $82,000. We each received $41,000 from the money held in trust.

Our household goods were divided from a list. I kept my tools, my books, my mother's dishes, and the two sound mugs. Russell kept the dining room set and the curtains.

The separate pension orders went to the plans. Nora tracked their approval so a promise on paper became an actual division of the marital benefits.

Nothing depended on Russell remembering to be generous later.

Before I chose how to hold the apartments, Celeste reviewed their tax records and costs with me. I hired an independent manager whose fee was eight percent of rent collected. We kept money aside for taxes, condo charges, and repairs.

The renters received clear notices. Their leases stayed in place. One called to ask whether his broken kitchen drawer would finally be fixed.

"Put in the request," I said. "The manager has permission to handle it."

I did not want my freedom built from somebody else's loose cabinet.

I kept my job. On payday, my wages still arrived in the same account, but I opened the statement without a knot in my stomach. Rental income belonged in a separate set of books. Celeste helped me start them, and I entered the bills myself.

Russell sold the fourth apartment after Lenora had moved out. From the closing, the money owed to me cleared through Nora's trust account before the deadline.

He retained his third apartment and whatever choices remained to him. He had lost control of my money, half the property he had tried to hide, and the right to make me ask him for access.

Lenora's lawyer confirmed she had collected her belongings and made no loan claim. I wished her well through mine. There was nothing more we needed from each other.

When the deeds transferring my two apartments were recorded, certified copies came in a large envelope.

I put them in the blue wallet with the original redemption certificates. Celeste kept the final accounting with the closed case files. All the transfers matched the order. My remaining bills were paid.

Then I bought a small fire-resistant box for my own closet.

At my rental, the kitchen window faced east. Antlia caught the early light. Caelum had put out two new leaves. Pyxis needed a bigger pot.

I could afford the soil without checking whether someone had allowed it.

One evening, Russell sent a message asking if we could talk privately about how things had ended.

I answered once.

The financial work is complete. I won't meet privately. Please respect that.

I silenced his number. For anything the orders still required, the lawyers had addresses.

In June, Riverbend approved the short program I had built around faint constellations. There was $900 in extra pay for the finished program and its school guide.

I called it The Useful Sky.

Before the first public show, Eli checked the aisle lights while I tested the fades. We found one loose strip of cloth tape beside the housing. I replaced it, pressed the edge flat, and watched the small white leak disappear.

The dark dome filled with points of light, each exactly where I had placed it.

Celeste had promised to come. I saved her a seat halfway back, where the stars looked sharpest. On the console, beside my cue sheet, sat a tiny new fern in a paper cup.

I had not named it yet.

The lobby bell sounded. I set the sky to its gentle opening glow.

The door opened softly, and Celeste arrived carrying a plant labeled For Your Next Constellation.