Lan Offered Me A Pen And Called It Protection

Lan had cleared the kitchen table when I got home. On it sat a glass of water, a black pen, and three stapled pages.

"Sit down," she said.

I stayed beside my chair.

"Those fish were sold," I said. "You told me they died."

"They were going to die. You couldn't manage them."

"Who was paid?"

"Martin handled it."

She said his first name as if he were a family doctor.

I put Otis's report on the table. She looked at the heading, then pushed it back.

"A fish man doesn't know our marriage."

"He knows twelve chip numbers."

Lan tapped the papers by the water.

"This lets me handle money without these scenes. David agrees that we need a plan."

The top page was a proposed durable power of attorney. It would give her broad control over my finances if I signed it properly. The second sheet was a household statement saying I had sold breeding stock for cash and spent the money on pond supplies.

"You wrote this?" I asked.

"I made it simple for you."

There was no blue square on any line. Nothing had been checked.

"Send me a copy," I said.

"Don't be difficult."

"I'm not signing."

She picked up the pen and placed it across my hand.

I put it back on the table.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Through the window, I heard a freight train far off, beyond the evening traffic.

"You can lose more than fish," Lan said.

I packed two shirts, my work boots, and the photograph of my parents that stood by my bed. I went to a small motel near the highway. It cost $82 a night, and I kept the receipt.

I had slept beside Lan for forty-two years. I still reached toward the other side of the motel bed when I woke.

Then I remembered the pen.

In the morning, I called a lawyer whose office had handled a retired coworker's divorce. Her name was Saira Kline. The first meeting cost $350.

She asked what I wanted.

"My fish safe. My money counted. My children told the truth."

"Do you want to stay married?"

I looked at the copy of the false invoice.

"No."

She let that answer sit before asking anything else.

I gave her the chip report, the catalog pages I had saved, and the bank statement Lan had displayed at lunch. I also gave her the proposed papers. Lan had emailed them that morning with the message, Last chance to do this privately.

Saira read the claimed cash sale twice.

"Who owned the fish?"

"I bought and bred them during the marriage. My breeding records and sale papers use my name."

"Then we must address marital property as well as a disputed sale. Your register proves identity. It doesn't settle every ownership question."

I liked her better for saying that.

At the shop, the man who promised a perfect repair before opening the housing was usually selling trouble.

Saira sent preservation notices to Red Sill and the auction company. She asked the auction to keep the fish in care while the lawyers worked out custody. She began the divorce filing and asked for temporary orders to protect property and records.

"Don't drain joint accounts," she told me. "Get the statements you're entitled to. Save what you receive. No guessing at anyone's passwords."

I went to our bank.

The retirement money was in joint savings and certificates of deposit. Our Social Security paid most monthly bills. Lan had managed the extra withdrawals. I had believed the reports she placed in our tax folder.

The bank printed four years of statements and available check images for $46.

In my truck, I found three payments to Red Sill. Each was $6,200. Lan's yearly summaries had called each payment fish equipment.

I had bought no such equipment.

One payment fell in a month when I had rebuilt a used pump for $74 in parts. I remembered because the shaft had needed a thin brass sleeve.

I called David.

"Did you agree I should sign money papers?"

"Mom said you asked her to take over."

"I didn't."

He was quiet.

"Can you send me what she sent you?" I asked.

"Dad, are you at a motel?"

"For now."

He gave me his garage door code. There was a room upstairs. I thanked him and said I would come after meeting Saira again.

At her office, I spread the checks in date order.

Saira had just reached for the first one when her assistant opened the door.

A process server stood behind her with a packet bearing my name. Lan had asked a court to appoint a guardian over my property.