Todd said, “But it’s a no-fault divorce, right? I don’t mean there is no fault, I admit my failings… I mean, if she’s not going to take me to court, then it’s a fifty-fifty split. Isn’t it?”

Pete almost laughed. “A fifty-fifty split of what? Janis owns the property outright and pretty much everything else. Your half, if you can call it that, is whatever you can get in the back of a van.”

“So you’re saying I don’t have much of a chance?” “I’m saying you have no chance at all, Mr. Milstead. The only way you could fight this is if you had a great deal of money.”

Pete looked at Todd. He knew the answer to his question already but what the hell, he was going to get some enjoyment out of this.

“Do you have a great deal of money, Mr. Milstead?”

Todd’s defeated headshake almost made Pete Fenton feel sorry for him.

*  *  *

The Volvo was parked at an angle to Scully’s Bar, blocking the sidewalk. Inside Scully’s Bar, Todd was also parked at an angle, trying to stay on his bar stool without holding on to it. He was explaining to the barman for perhaps the third time why life had conspired against him to such an extent.

“It’s because I’m a real man,” he announced. The barman ignored him, choosing instead to wipe something. “She’s scared of that, you see,” Todd continued. “She knows there’s something inside of me, something good, something real strong, and she’s scared of letting it out.”

“Maybe you should go home and write about it,” said the barman.

Todd frowned at him.

“How do you know I’m a writer?”

“You told me,” said the barman. “But seriously. Everybody’s got a novel inside them.”

“I know I do,” Todd said, and giggled. “A big one, too. A bestseller.”

“Well, like I say, go home, get some sleep, and when you wake up, write it,” the barman said.

“I can’t,” said Todd. “It’s not mine to write.”

“You’re not making any sense,” the barman said. “Time to go.”

Todd looked at his diminished store of dollar bills. He scooped them all up, dropped some coins back on the counter, and picked himself off the bar stool.

“Real man,” he announced to the empty bar and left.

*  *  *

Todd’s journey home was packed with incident. He ran one red light, drove down a street closed for building works, crushed a bike that someone had left on the sidewalk, and parked in a neighbor’s drive before realizing his mistake and reversing back into his own.