Chapter 3 · He Chose New Mom, Now He Regrets

Richard wasn't one for putting things off.

The next morning, he sent another message: [Jane, the transfer process is urgent. Could you get me the identification documents and school records by this week?]

I didn't reply.

At noon, another message popped up. [Central High School has limited spots. If we miss this chance, it's gone. Don't you want Mike to get into a good school?]

I still didn't reply.

That afternoon, Michael called, "Mom, Dad said he needs the identification documents. When can you give it to him?"

He sounded so casual, like he was just asking what's for dinner.

"Did your dad ask you to call?" I asked.

"No, I just wanted to ask."

"Michael, are you really asking because you want to, or did your dad put you up to this?"

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"Mom, can't you just cooperate for once?"

He really used the word "cooperate".

It seemed that I was just some clueless employee, and he was relaying orders from his boss.

"The identification documents are with me. I'll decide when you get it," I said.

"Mom—"

"If there's nothing else, I'm hanging up."

I hung up.

My palms were sweaty, not from nerves, but from anger.

*****

That evening, Emily asked me out for dinner.

She's a supervisor at a tutoring center, way more successful than me. But she's always been solid, having my back through thick and thin all these years.

"Don't be in a hurry to give him the identification documents," Emily said, dropping a piece of meat into my plate.

"Why?" I asked.

"Jane, think about it. Michael's identification documents and school records are both under your name. That's your last bargaining chip."

"I never thought of using it as a bargaining chip."

"I know you're not the scheming type, but they are."

She put down her fork and looked at me seriously.

She continued, "Listen to me. You know Richard better than I do. Has he ever really treated you well?

"He's pushing so hard for the identification documents and school records, but it's not because he actually cares about Michael's education."

"Then why is he so eager?" I asked.

"It's all about his ego. Now that Michael's back with him, he wants to get him into the best school, so that he can show off and feel good about himself."

I didn't say anything.

"And have you noticed? He hasn't mentioned a little about paying child support," Emily said.

I was taken aback for a moment.

Emily continued, "Fourteen years. How much has he actually given? A little something for the holidays, maybe about 10 thousand dollars at most.

"You know better than anyone how much you've spent raising Michael."

Of course I knew.

Just tuition and tutoring fees alone must have cost nearly 100 thousand dollars over the fourteen years.

And that's not even counting all the living costs, doctor bills, clothes, shoes, and all those overtime hours and promotions I gave up just to be there for him.

I've never actually sat down and added it all up for anyone.

"Emily, I don't want to make this about money when it comes to Mike," I said.

"It's not about money. It's about fairness," Emily replied.

Emily grabbed her phone, scrolled to a page, and showed it to me. "See? I checked for you. Legally, after a divorce, the parent who doesn't raise the kid directly is supposed to pay child support.

"Richard should've been paying for fourteen years, but he hasn't. That's a pretty hefty sum he owes you."

"He said he didn't have the money back then."

"No money?" Emily snorted. "He had enough to start a company, buy an Audi, and keep Linda comfortable, didn't he?"

I lowered my head, poking at the food on my plate.

I knew she was right about every single thing.

But knowing is one thing, doing is another.

Emily added, "Jane, your biggest flaw is that you're just too kind. You think if you keep giving in, people will appreciate it.

"But look at what's happened. You've been backing down for fourteen years, and now you've lost your son because of it."

Emily's words cut deep, right in my heart.

She continued, "Are you really going to keep backing down? Once you hand over the identification documents and transfer the school records, that's the last tie you have with Michael.

"After that, if you want to see him, you'll have to ask Richard and Linda for permission."

I looked up. "So what do you think I should do?"

"It's simple. You can give him the identification documents, but not for free."

Emily started counting off on her fingers. "First, he needs to make up for all the child support he owes from the past fourteen years.

"Second, you need to have guaranteed visitation rights with Michael, not just whatever they decide.

"Third, since he keeps saying he's got money, make sure it's all put down in papers that he'll cover every cent of Michael's high school tuition and living expenses"

"Isn't that just negotiating with him?" I asked.

"No, that's just protecting yourself."

Emily looked at me, dead serious. "Jane, this isn't about going toe-to-toe with your ex. It's about leaving yourself a backup plan.

"If Michael ever has a rough time over there and wants to come back, you need to be ready to welcome him, without worrying if you can even make ends meet."

I stayed quiet, but her words hit me right in the gut.

*****

When I got home, I sat down at my desk, opened the drawer, and pulled out that old account book.

Ever since Michael was one, I've kept track of every penny.

Every expense, with its date, amount, and purpose, was laid out in detail.

Formula, diapers, preschool fees, elementary school tuition, tutoring fees, uniforms, and doctor bills.

I flipped through one page after another, covering all fourteen years.

I spent a whole hour punching numbers into the calculator.

Finally, the total stared back at me.

I stared at that number for a long time.

Then I closed the account book and slipped it into my bag.

*****

The next day, Richard called again, "Jane, have you thought about the identification documents?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"So when are you going to—"

"Richard, you can come get it. But there are a few things I need to discuss with you in person."

There was a pause on the other end.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Let's talk when you get here."

I hung up.

*****

That night, I flipped through the account book again.

It had been fourteen years, over three thousand and six hundred days and nights.

Every page was a testament to how I shouldered it all by myself.

I didn't know what kind of attitude Richard would have when he came.

But I knew one thing.

I wasn't going to back down anymore.

I flipped to the last page, where the final expense was recorded. [June 18th, watermelon juice, 3 dollars.]

It was the one I bought for Michael on the last day of his high school admission test.

He didn't take a single sip.

I closed the account book and placed it in the center of the coffee table.

Richard said he'd come by tomorrow afternoon to pick up the identification documents.

Fine.

Come over.

Chapter 3

Richard wasn't one for putting things off.

The next morning, he sent another message: [Jane, the transfer process is urgent. Could you get me the identification documents and school records by this week?]

I didn't reply.

At noon, another message popped up. [Central High School has limited spots. If we miss this chance, it's gone. Don't you want Mike to get into a good school?]

I still didn't reply.

That afternoon, Michael called, "Mom, Dad said he needs the identification documents. When can you give it to him?"

He sounded so casual, like he was just asking what's for dinner.

"Did your dad ask you to call?" I asked.

"No, I just wanted to ask."

"Michael, are you really asking because you want to, or did your dad put you up to this?"

There was a brief silence on the other end.

"Mom, can't you just cooperate for once?"

He really used the word "cooperate".

It seemed that I was just some clueless employee, and he was relaying orders from his boss.

"The identification documents are with me. I'll decide when you get it," I said.

"Mom—"

"If there's nothing else, I'm hanging up."

I hung up.

My palms were sweaty, not from nerves, but from anger.

*****

That evening, Emily asked me out for dinner.

She's a supervisor at a tutoring center, way more successful than me. But she's always been solid, having my back through thick and thin all these years.

"Don't be in a hurry to give him the identification documents," Emily said, dropping a piece of meat into my plate.

"Why?" I asked.

"Jane, think about it. Michael's identification documents and school records are both under your name. That's your last bargaining chip."

"I never thought of using it as a bargaining chip."

"I know you're not the scheming type, but they are."

She put down her fork and looked at me seriously.

She continued, "Listen to me. You know Richard better than I do. Has he ever really treated you well?

"He's pushing so hard for the identification documents and school records, but it's not because he actually cares about Michael's education."

"Then why is he so eager?" I asked.

"It's all about his ego. Now that Michael's back with him, he wants to get him into the best school, so that he can show off and feel good about himself."

I didn't say anything.

"And have you noticed? He hasn't mentioned a little about paying child support," Emily said.

I was taken aback for a moment.

Emily continued, "Fourteen years. How much has he actually given? A little something for the holidays, maybe about 10 thousand dollars at most.

"You know better than anyone how much you've spent raising Michael."

Of course I knew.

Just tuition and tutoring fees alone must have cost nearly 100 thousand dollars over the fourteen years.

And that's not even counting all the living costs, doctor bills, clothes, shoes, and all those overtime hours and promotions I gave up just to be there for him.

I've never actually sat down and added it all up for anyone.

"Emily, I don't want to make this about money when it comes to Mike," I said.

"It's not about money. It's about fairness," Emily replied.

Emily grabbed her phone, scrolled to a page, and showed it to me. "See? I checked for you. Legally, after a divorce, the parent who doesn't raise the kid directly is supposed to pay child support.

"Richard should've been paying for fourteen years, but he hasn't. That's a pretty hefty sum he owes you."

"He said he didn't have the money back then."

"No money?" Emily snorted. "He had enough to start a company, buy an Audi, and keep Linda comfortable, didn't he?"

I lowered my head, poking at the food on my plate.

I knew she was right about every single thing.

But knowing is one thing, doing is another.

Emily added, "Jane, your biggest flaw is that you're just too kind. You think if you keep giving in, people will appreciate it.

"But look at what's happened. You've been backing down for fourteen years, and now you've lost your son because of it."

Emily's words cut deep, right in my heart.

She continued, "Are you really going to keep backing down? Once you hand over the identification documents and transfer the school records, that's the last tie you have with Michael.

"After that, if you want to see him, you'll have to ask Richard and Linda for permission."

I looked up. "So what do you think I should do?"

"It's simple. You can give him the identification documents, but not for free."

Emily started counting off on her fingers. "First, he needs to make up for all the child support he owes from the past fourteen years.

"Second, you need to have guaranteed visitation rights with Michael, not just whatever they decide.

"Third, since he keeps saying he's got money, make sure it's all put down in papers that he'll cover every cent of Michael's high school tuition and living expenses"

"Isn't that just negotiating with him?" I asked.

"No, that's just protecting yourself."

Emily looked at me, dead serious. "Jane, this isn't about going toe-to-toe with your ex. It's about leaving yourself a backup plan.

"If Michael ever has a rough time over there and wants to come back, you need to be ready to welcome him, without worrying if you can even make ends meet."

I stayed quiet, but her words hit me right in the gut.

*****

When I got home, I sat down at my desk, opened the drawer, and pulled out that old account book.

Ever since Michael was one, I've kept track of every penny.

Every expense, with its date, amount, and purpose, was laid out in detail.

Formula, diapers, preschool fees, elementary school tuition, tutoring fees, uniforms, and doctor bills.

I flipped through one page after another, covering all fourteen years.

I spent a whole hour punching numbers into the calculator.

Finally, the total stared back at me.

I stared at that number for a long time.

Then I closed the account book and slipped it into my bag.

*****

The next day, Richard called again, "Jane, have you thought about the identification documents?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"So when are you going to—"

"Richard, you can come get it. But there are a few things I need to discuss with you in person."

There was a pause on the other end.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Let's talk when you get here."

I hung up.

*****

That night, I flipped through the account book again.

It had been fourteen years, over three thousand and six hundred days and nights.

Every page was a testament to how I shouldered it all by myself.

I didn't know what kind of attitude Richard would have when he came.

But I knew one thing.

I wasn't going to back down anymore.

I flipped to the last page, where the final expense was recorded. [June 18th, watermelon juice, 3 dollars.]

It was the one I bought for Michael on the last day of his high school admission test.

He didn't take a single sip.

I closed the account book and placed it in the center of the coffee table.

Richard said he'd come by tomorrow afternoon to pick up the identification documents.

Fine.

Come over.