Getting Out

Richie Roberts & Nick Russell

Sitting in the car, Nick Russell pushed up his shades nervously. He looked at the name on the office door. 'Richie Roberts, Solicitor'. He hadn't been to a lawyer's office in years. Pete Valentine had handled all that for him. Now, though, he thought it might be necessary to see for himself just what kind of legal options he had.

Kelly. She'd been going through his mind ever since she showed up. And then, last night he'd kissed her. That had her going through his mind so much he couldn't even sleep last night. He'd come out of his eighteen months in the hospital thinking they were divorced. Then she'd come here. Here, to the Glen, where he was supposed to be starting over, and told him that she'd never divorced him. She still wanted to be his wife.

Dammit! He didn't need this. He'd kicked his habits and was trying to face up to everything he'd done in his life, only to find out that his supposedly ex-third wife was, in fact, still his wife.

Looking around for anyone who might recognize him, he slid out of the car and hurried toward the office door, slipping hurriedly inside.

Richie heard the door open and put down his phone. Miss Peeg had taken the afternoon off to take Michael Stanley to his doctor’s appointment in Coffs Harbor. He walked to the door and even with the shades he knew the man from McGee’s bar be que.

“Hi, can I help you with something? I’m Richie Roberts.”

"Uh- Nick- I'm Nick Russell," he said a bit uncomfortably, holding out his hand as an afterthought. "You're the solicitor?"

“I’m the solicitor,” Richie smiled and shook his hand, “Come in and have a seat Mr. Russell.” Richie cleared a spot on his desk and sat down and looked across at Nick Russell, “you need a solicitor?”

The question forced a grin out of Nick. He had lawyers. By the dozens. Pete had always dealt with them on his behalf. He was feeling a need to do something himself for a change and he wasn't sure at all how to deal with this situation with Kelly.

He sighed. "A solicitor. A marriage counselor. A good, stiff drink. Maybe nothing. Maybe all three. I'm not really sure."

Richie grinned, “I can supply two of those requests. Not sure I’d make claims to marriage counseling. I flunked that.”

"You and me both." Nick returned his grin. Felt good to talk with someone besides doctors for a change.

Then he turned serious again. "What we say here's confidential, right? It doesn't go out of this room?"

Richie leaned on his desk, “If you’re my client everything you say to me is confidential. Like talkin’ to a priest.”

Nick didn't like the image that brought up. It brought to mind the funeral...

Forcing that thought out of his head, he looked at Richie. "I'm serious, man. I don't know if you've ever had reporters and photographers follow you everywhere you go. Looking for every little bit of information they can dredge up about your life, but I have. I've had way too much of it. And the last thing I need is for anything I might tell you here to slip out." The look on his face was dead serious.

Richie tilted his head a little, “Like I said it’s confidential…doesn’t go beyond that door.” He was beginning to wonder what the hell the guy had to say.

"Look, I don't know if you know who I am-" Nick trailed off a little uncertainly.

“I know who you are, I’ve got some of your music, you’re a helluva musician,” Richie detected how nervous the man was, “I’ve known you live out here, but I respect your privacy Russell, and believe me when I say whatever you tell me stays between us. I’ll be honest with you. I’ve read the press reports and I know you’ve had some problems…hell we all do. Ours just don’t reach the internet. So what can I help you with?”

Nick drummed nervously on the arm of the chair with his fingers. "You say you know I've had some problems. Well- Truth is, I spent the last eighteen months in the hospital, dealing with a lot of problems. But I won't go into all that. The main problem now is..."

He took a deep breath. "When I went checked into the hospital, I was married. My third wife. We'd been married a little less than a month. Spur of the moment thing that my manager kept out of the papers and off the news. My manager was supposed to have her divorce me. Told him to give her anything she wanted."

Nick stopped for a moment. "Got any coffee around here?"

“Coffee, sure,” he got up from behind his desk, “my assistant is off this afternoon. Funny how you never know how much they do until they’re not around.” He went into the hallway and poured out two cups of coffee and handed one to Nick, “Hope this is not too strong. It might have been stewing for awhile,”

He went back around his desk and sat down, taking a sip and looking at the man in front of him, a man with a lot of problems. “Okay so you’re in the hospital trying to get a divorce…then what?”

"When I got out, I came here." Nick paused long enough to take a sip of coffee. "Seemed like a good place to lay low. Start over. Then, my wife shows up. Turns out she's STILL my wife. She refused to divorce me."

“And you wanted the divorce?” Richie looked over the rim of his cup.

Nick looked confused. "Wanted it? At that point in life, I wasn't in any condition to know what I wanted. The marriage. The divorce. A cold beer. Anything. I shouldn'ta been makin' any decisions at all. Not even the easiest ones."

“So what’s the problem? Do you or don’t you want to be married to her now? I can handle a divorce for you if that’s what you want.” Richie raised his brows.

Nick closed his eyes for a long moment, feeling one of his headaches coming on. This had seemed like a good idea when he'd decided to come here. Now, he wasn't sure.

Opening them again, he looked at Richie Roberts. "What I want's got nothin' to do with anything. I don't need to be married to her now. It's not good for me. Not good for her. Marriage-any kind of long-term relationship-is just somethin' I can't handle."

"And she's- His eyes fixed on Richie's, hoping the man understood him. "She's twenty years younger than I am. She oughta be free to move on. Find somebody better than me. A washed-up musician with more damned personal problems than anybody's got a right to have!"

Richie gazed at him a moment, thinking about Libby. He blinked it away, “I got it…but evidently she hasn’t, if she didn’t agree to the divorce. Why do you think she didn’t? Could be she really cares about you. You know, here in Oz the divorce laws are different. It takes a year of separation, but if you’ve already had that and can reasonably document it and she agrees, it shouldn’t be a problem to get it taken care of…if that’s what you want.”

"Like I said," Nick told him. "What I want's got nothin' to do with it. And yeah, we've been separated for more than eighteen months. I was in the hospital. Oughta be easy to document that. As for her agreeing- I don't know. She still says she doesn't want it."

Richie ran his hand through his hair and sat back in his chair, “So what are we doin’ here?”

"I think I should file." Nick drained his coffee cup. "Let her know I'm serious. Kelly can go back home. Get on with her life." He looked resigned. "Otherwise, she might hang around, think we can make it work."

He turned his head for a moment and gazed out Richie's window. "And there's no way we can."

“Are you sure about that? I can go ahead and get the paperwork together for signatures…give you time to think about it seriously. You said you were only married, what, a month before you went into the hospital…how do ya know it won’t work…maybe you never gave it a chance,” Richie held up his hands, “Ah sorry, I said I flunked counseling.”

"I'm sure," Nick said steadily. His head was starting to pound. Damned antidepressants. One of the most common side effects was headache and he had plenty of them.

"And it never had a chance. You ever been to AA or NA? Been doin' both since I first went into the hospital. The man who married Kelly wasn't me. That guy was so high on drugs and alcohol and everything else that he barely knew who he was or where he was. It's not her fault. The only thing she did was be a little too romantic and a little too naive. I hate to be the one to take that away from her, but it's for the best."

“I saw the two of you together at McGee’s at the Bar B Que,” Now why did he want to bring that up, that was a hellish day for himself and Toni. “Have you thought about trying to get to know each other now...now that you’re straight? You never know you might like each other.”

Despite his headache, Nick grinned. "Thought you said you flunked counseling?"

"I got too many problems on my plate, Roberts. I can't handle trying to make a marriage work on top of everything else. Besides, would you give yourself a chance with a woman twenty years younger? Would you think you had a chance?"

“I don’t think age has anything to do with it. It’s what’s up here and in your heart, not in the numbers. Besides you’ve already got your foot in the door, she don’t want to divorce you.”

"Have you been listening?" Nick demanded. "I said I've got way too many problems to think about adding marriage to them. You ever been married Roberts? Kelly's my third wife. That's three too many. And the third time ain't the charm. I should never have married her, and I intend to correct that."

“As a matter of fact I’ve been married twice and am in the process of divorce right now so I’m not unsympathetic to your problems, Nick. Okay I’ll get the papers drawn up and let you know when they’re ready. I’ll need an address for her to send them to and unless you want to come in, I’ll need your address too.”

"My address? Uh--" Nick wasn't ready to give his address out to anyone yet, although he supposed it would become known to some people in town anyway. "What if I give you a call in a few days? See if they're ready and, if they are, I'll come in and pick 'em up?"

Richie grinned a little, “You have to list an address, Nick, for the courts you know, even if it’s just a street name or something, I mean I have to say something like Nick Russell of Glen Road or you know…help me out here a little.”

"All right," Nick told him reluctantly, giving him the address. "But you gotta guard it with your life, man."

He liked Richie Roberts. They seemed to have a couple of things in common. Marriage and divorce anyway. "Maybe you'd like to come over for a drink sometime? Personally, I gotta stick with non-alcoholic stuff, but you're more than welcome to bring your own beer. Sit around and talk, watch the footy, something?"

“I might just do that,” Richie didn’t know a lot about him except that he seemed to need a friend, somebody to talk to besides shrinks.

"Any time. Just give me a call first. At this particular time of my life, I tend to hide when I see cars coming. Pretend I'm not home." Nick grinned.

“Hey, I’ve done that myself. I’m glad you came in, sorry about your troubles but it’s good to see you out.”

"Yeah, well-" Nick looked uncomfortable. "Out-in public that is-is not somewhere I've been comfortable being for a long time. Not sure I ever will be again."

Richie thought about the residents of The Glen, “Well to tell you the truth there are a lot of people here in the Glen that don’t want the public’s eye trained on them. In one way or another we all came here to start over.”

"That's good to know, man. Thanks. I'll be looking for those papers."

“Won’t take long as soon as Miss Peeg is back in the office.” Richie stood up with him.

"Miss Peeg? Uh- She likely to mention me to anyone?" Nick asked him nervously.

Richie laughed a little, “You need to meet Miss Peeg, Nick and no, to answer your question. The woman is the height of discretion. She has met kings and queens, kept state secrets and God knows what else in her time. A rock star is not likely to garner much attention.”

"Glad to hear it." Nick was at the door. "Think I could hire her away from you?"

“Are you kidding? I can’t even get her to put in a full day lately,” he laughed, “She’s taking care of my former father in law, who’s had some heart problems. I personally think it’s more than that but…” he shrugged.

Nick shook his head. "People don't know what they're getting into."

"Listen, man, it's been good to meet you. I'll be looking forward to seeing you again." Putting on his shades again, he peeked out the door. He was hoping to get home before lunchtime when there'd be more people out around town.

“Good to meet you too, Nick. I’ll be in touch.” Strange fella, Richie thought him a bit paranoid but then he hadn’t been through what Nick had. “Call anytime you feel like a little company.”

Getting into his car, Nick thought that, at least he'd met one person in town. And he liked Richie Roberts. This place might just be okay.