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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

593 Riverside Drive - 9. Chapter 9

Almost a week later, Pic, Florrie, and Lewis had dinner with Mama, Papa, Ella, and me. I’d thought about asking Howard because, all along, I’d been telling him what was happening with Ella, but she preferred that we keep the dinner smaller. “I want to ask Pic about lawyers, and Howard probably doesn’t know anything about them.”

I might have reminded her that his father occasionally found himself in police stations, bailing out one his rum-running brothers, and had to arrange to find lawyers for them. Also, that Howard – like Lewis and me – was always listening and learning. But I also thought a smaller dinner might be better, so I let myself agree with Ella.

Pic, as always, was intelligent and generous, and he seemed to be telling us everything he knew about divorce lawyers. “Of course, this isn’t my field,” he began, “but I work with and know a quite a number of lawyers, and Florrie and I have several divorced friends – both women and men.”

“More men,” Florrie added smiling, “often seeking to get married again, so they’re looking to meet eligible women. The divorced women – no matter how well we knew them before as friends – usually disappear socially.”

Pic shook his head. “It’s a hateful process for anyone, but Florrie’s right – it does seem harder for women.”

“It’s unfair,” Florrie agreed.

“Why?” I asked, more curious and more forward than my parents or Ella. I’d really never thought about the subject. My parents had no divorced friends.

“Because society is still controlled by religion,” Pic offered ruefully, fending off a look from Florrie. “Polite society.”

“The middle and upper classes?” Lewis asked.

“If we acknowledge those in our democratic lives,” his father replied, grinning.

“I’m speaking economically,” Lewis went on, and Pic nodded.

“Most men have jobs,” he explained, “so they have ways to be independent. They’re also often given custody of their children because they can provide homes and food. And – as Florrie said – they’re looking to and expected to remarry, so their homes are regarded as more suitable for children. Further, men have experience remarrying because of the number of women who still die in childbirth. The divorce rate is considerably smaller. Of course, the war changed a lot of that.”

“How?” I asked.

“So many men died, most of them younger, so there are fewer potential husbands available. It was fortunately less true here than in Europe, but that’s also why we have many women immigrating, either with husbands they barely know – former soldiers – or for arranged marriages. And that...” he paused to laugh, “...will just increase the divorce rate – or the number of women trying to get one.”

“Why ‘trying?’” Ella asked.

“Again, because of religion – ‘Til death us do part’ remains strong.”

“As hopeful or awful?” I wondered.

“And what if you’re not religious?” Ella went on. “What if you were married in a city hall, like Joe and I were, and religion had nothing to do with it?”

“Religion still controls the laws,” Pic countered, “because people vote. And now, with women able to do that...” he smiled, “...which you know I completely supported...”

Florrie acknowledged that with a nod.

“...well, that moral influence gains further strength. It’s the same thing that drove Prohibition, though that came before the women’s vote.”

“Only slightly,” Lewis pointed out.

“But can’t divorce laws also change because of that?” I asked.

“That’s what a lot of people are hoping – and I’m certainly one of them.” Pic grinned at Florrie. “Not that we’d ever use the changes ourselves – church overriding state, and Florrie overriding everything.”

Lewis and his mother laughed. Then Pic went on.

“Still, at the moment, little is different nationally, and there are only several states – a handful – that allow divorce, often after some term of residency.”

“Are those divorces legal in other states?” Ella asked. “Or are you still married when you come home?”

“The divorces are binding in the same way that marriages are recognized from state to state – and from country to country. But women can lose certain privileges.”

“Like what?” Lewis asked.

“Well, divorces in states outside the ones where a women lives are often closer to annulments – they simply say the marriage never existed. And if it didn’t exist, then a woman isn’t entitled to either alimony or child support.”

“Again unfair,” Florrie grumbled.

We all nodded, but I realized how quiet my parents had been. Of course, Pic was talking about a subject they barely knew.

“And even when a divorce is granted locally,” Pic continued, “when a women is given alimony or custody and child support to raise her children alone, it’s almost never enough. And the payments aren’t guaranteed or always regular, especially if her former husband remarries and has a new family to support. The court sometimes defers to them. And there aren’t many jobs available to a woman with children.”

“There aren’t many jobs at all,” I interrupted gently, “especially not interesting ones. It’s all nurses and teachers and secretaries. And at the other end, factory workers and maids.”

“And housekeepers,” Ella added, “that’s what I’ve been since I was seventeen – though I had two years of commercial high school. But Mama and Papa preferred that I stay at home.”

“And that experience served you well,” Pic complimented. “So you could easily manage Joe’s far more complicated household.”

“Yes,” Ella said laughing, “I’m good at arithmetic and hiring servants but less successful at handling spoiled young ladies and infantile fathers-in-law.”

“I’m sorry it’s been difficult,” Florrie offered.

“I’d really rather not talk about it – not now,” Ella said smiling. “And I was hoping Pic had more comforting news about lawyers.”

“Unfortunately, no,” Pic told us, and he seemed to be finishing up. “From what I’ve heard – and this unofficial, you understand, so I’m not offering it as advice... But from what I’ve been told about women in your position – those with your present level of comforts – well, it’s often been suggested that they avoid the courts entirely, and just quietly take what they can and leave.”

“And remain married?” Ella questioned.

“Until their husband arranges a divorce. When it’s for his convenience, it often happens quickly. Mostly when he wants to remarry.”

“And if I were the one who hoped for that? And Joe didn’t really care?”

Pic smiled. “You do have the advantage of being younger,” he admitted. “But if Joe doesn’t want to initiate a divorce, then matters could stay as they are for years.”

Copyright © 2023 RichEisbrouch; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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We've certainly advanced in the area of divorce since the time portrayed here....but, it still is not easy for a lot of women. 

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Yep, as Pic says, "Divorce is a hateful process."  But it's less tough legally now, here, almost a hundred years later.

And it just doesn't seem that long ago.  These people seem contemporary in their thinking, which is a point of reading history -- and, also, in reading literature of earlier times.,

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