"Mediation, as you know, is a process used to avoid costly and hostile litigation in the event of a divorce. It's meant to be used by two people who have mutually agreed to end their marriage and are committed to working together to make the process as painless as possible."

Mark and Beth Harrison, soon to be Mark Harrison and Beth Black, both looked at Greg with calm, if politely regretful, expressions. "We're familiar with the concept of mediation. That's why we included in our pre-nuptial agreement," said Mark, a tall, dark-haired man in his mid-30's, who was a lawyer himself. "It's unfortunate that we find ourselves in this situation, but our goal is to part ways in a thoughtful, deliberate way."

"We're committed to working through our issues with mutual respect and cooperation," added Beth, shielding her eyes from the light gleaming through the open office windows. It was a late fall afternoon in Philadelphia, and the angle of the afternoon sun reflected with painful brightness off of Greg's mahogany desk, highlighting her auburn hair and fair skin. Like her soon to be ex-husband, she was in formal business attire. "In fact, if it weren't for the mediation requirement in our pre-nuptial agreement, we might have been able to arrive at a final settlement ourselves."

"But your pre-nuptial agreement does call for mediation, and it stipulates that if that fails, then the law will have to divide your assets," Greg reminded them. "This way is so much better. Once two people have decided that their marriage should end, friendly mediation creates a way for them to design their own divorce, in a manner of speaking."

"We understand," said Mark. He looked at Beth and she nodded.

"Every relationship runs its own course, and we always knew it might happen to us, too. We never wanted to be like those couples who can barely speak a civil word to each other when their marriage reaches a natural end. Divorce is difficult enough without all the needless hostility."

"Excellent," Greg answered, thankful that this particular mediation looked like it would go more smoothly than most. As the court-appointed mediator he would be paid the same amount whether matters ended amicably or not, but angry clients made his stomach churn. He preferred to help couples sever their ties smoothly, swiftly, with surgical precision, and then be on their way. No resentment, no vicious court battles. He cleared his throat, peering at them through his glasses.

"The usual issues to settle in mediation include child custody, visitation, alimony, division of assets, retirement accounts, that sort of thing. We do this through an informal process of discussion and compromise."

His clients nodded again.

"I am also prepared to help the two of you work through any other issues which may arise as we begin our discussions. I would like to stress that my role here is as a neutral facilitator. I do not take sides with either of you or try to browbeat you into an agreement. The whole point of a mediation is to assist both parties—that's the two of you- to work together amicably, for your sakes and especially for the sake of any children involved."

"Will this take very long?" Beth asked, still squinting into the light.

"That depends entirely on the two of you. Generally speaking, if both parties come to each meeting prepared with their requests, and if they work together as much as possible, we can work through all of the issues and come up with an agreement in five or six sessions. We then file the agreement with the court and the two parties go their separate ways."

"And if we don't?"

"Then the process becomes much longer and more difficult—perhaps months. And if mediation fails to bring about any settlement at all, you will have to hire your own attorneys and go to court. My fee is only four thousand dollars. If you go to court the cost will go up exponentially-but I assume that won't be necessary in this case."

"Of course not." Beth looked at Mark, who shook his head emphatically.

"No. We've managed to be very adult about things so far and we plan to keep on that way." Mark's tone was earnest and sincere, the perfect professional.

"Absolutely," Beth smiled, just as warmly.

"I couldn't be more pleased." Greg beamed back at both of them. "We'll start our discussion today with child custody. But before we begin, I need to collect my fee. Did you both bring some form of payment?"

Mark reached for his wallet and withdrew a credit card, which he handed to Greg. Beth, meanwhile, rummaged in her purse for a moment before pulling out a carefully folded check, which she laid on the table and pushed across the desk. Greg took both in his hand and stood. "I'll just go into the other room for a minute to run your card, Mark, and to get you both receipts. I'll be right back." He walked out, leaving the door partly open. The sound of his footsteps echoed down the hallway, disappearing around a corner and fading away.

In the sudden silence Mark breathed a heavy sigh of relief, reaching up to loosen his tie. "I can't wait for this to be over."

"Neither can I." Beth's smile had disappeared. "The sooner we end this marriage, the better."

Mark did not answer her, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. After a few seconds Beth stood and walked restlessly to the window.

Greg's office was high in the Philadelphia skyline, eighteen stories above the Schuylkill expressway, and the view was impressive. From here Beth could see the interstate running north and south a quarter mile away and the crowded city streets directly below her. Traffic moved slowly but steadily in every direction, punctuated by lines of people winding their way across streets at every corner. An occasional car honk or siren from the nearby hospital could be heard even from this distance.

Across the street stood a billboard sign advertising a local insurance agency. Beth couldn't see much of it from here, but her memory filled in the details she had taken in on the way to Greg's office. The sign showed the American dream: a husband, a wife, one daughter and one son, all posed in front of a perfect house in the suburbs, complete with two perfect cars in the driveway and a perfectly manicured lawn behind them. All four family members were smiling straight at the camera, without a care in the world. The ideal modern family.

"It's ironic, isn't it?" Beth said, almost to herself.

"What is?" Mark asked, still sitting on the chair and facing away from her.

"That picture, across from a divorce attorney's office."

"Huh? Oh." He glanced over to see what she was looking at. "Bad product placement."

"They look so happy, like they've never had an argument with each other in their life."

"Who cares? It's just an ad. Quit looking at it. We're supposed to be thinking about our divorce. It'll all be done and finished in a few weeks, as long as we manage to get along and communicate."

Beth gave a short, harsh laugh. "If we could get along and communicate we wouldn't be here to begin with!"

"Don't make this about me, Beth," Mark said, glancing at her irritably. "I can't communicate with someone who doesn't listen!"

"You're so defensive, Mark. I wasn't talking about you. I was just making an observation."

Mark wasn't buying it. "That's just like all your other 'observations'," he retorted. His voice took on a sing song imitation of her own. "Other couples don't fight about money, Mark. Isn't it funny that some men men help out around the house so much, Mark? Why do other attorneys in your firm get to take long vacations, Mark?" He glared at her as he finished. "None of your 'observations' are ever about me."

Beth set her fists on her hips, glaring right back. "I swear, I am not going to argue with you today, Mark. All we have to do is get through this one hour together and then we won't have to see each other again until our next appointment, okay?"

"Fine. Whatever."

Mark's voice was still resentful, but Beth didn't want to get into a heated battle. She bit her tongue and walked away instead, looking at the doorway which Greg had gone through.

"How's Joey?" she heard Mark ask, behind her. She did not turn around.

"He's doing okay. He asks about you."

"Tell him I said hi."

"Tell him yourself. You haven't even seen him since you left the house."

"You mean since you made me leave." He paused. "Things are busy at the office and when I called last week you wouldn't even let him get on the phone."

"Because it was already past his bedtime."

"It wasn't even a school night!"

"You can talk to Joey all you want if you call at the right time. But calling early would cut into your time with Amy, wouldn't it?"

"Amy is my secretary."

"Oh, is that what they call them these days?"

Mark swore. "I don't expect you to believe me, but there has never been anything between Amy and me." Not that he hadn't thought about it; but the firm rules were strict. "My relationship with her is completely professional. I don't have the time or the energy to date right now. And I wouldn't anyway, not until the divorce is final."

"You really think I'm going to believe that, after the way I've seen you look at her? Not to mention the eighty hour work weeks you seem to enjoy so much with your secretary." She put air quotes around the last word.

"Eighty hours a week is what pays for the house you're living in now," Mark said, gritting his teeth. "The same house you threw me out of last month. And it's what it takes to make partner."

"I never cared about you making partner!" Beth answered. Unconsciously she had raised her voice as she turned to face him. "I wanted a husband at home at night, not a once-a-week date with a near stranger!"

"You should have thought of that before you married a lawyer!" Mark's voice had risen as well.

There was a coughing sound in the doorway and they both turned to look. Greg was standing there, his face clearly showing that he had heard their budding argument. He came into the room and handed each person their receipt, then sat heavily in his chair, his good mood entirely gone. "This is the kind of talk that sabotages mediation sessions. You both need to set it aside so we can get down to business." Mark and Beth looked daggers at each other, then took their seats again, sitting as far from each other as possible.

"I suggest we limit ourselves today to the first item on our list, which is child custody." Greg leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table before him. "Tell me about your son."

"Joey." Mark smiled again, but now it was tight, forced. "He's a bright, handsome, outgoing eight year old boy. All American."

"He's nine," Beth responded testily, "not eight years old. You'd know that if you'd been at his last birthday party."

Mark ignored her. "He loves soccer, football, and baseball. He wants to be a quarterback for the Eagles some day."

"He loves to read," Beth contradicted, "just like me. We listen to classical music together. And he wants to be a writer when he grows up."

Mark scoffed. "Since when? Are you the one who gave him that idea?"

"He came up with it himself. He'd tell you all about it if you saw him once in awhile."

Greg held up his hands to stop them. "Enough." So much for a quick, painless divorce, he thought. "We need to discuss custody, not criticize each other's parenting choices. Joey is old enough to have a say in any custody agreement. Where does he want to live?"

For the first time, Mark looked uncomfortable.

"Joey is with Beth," he volunteered. "I moved into my own apartment last month, and I'm comfortable with that arrangement. I'm aware that him living with Beth means that I will have to pay more for his support, but I don't mind. Beth has been a good mother."

Greg looked at Beth. "How do you feel about that?"

"I don't like it," she said at once, surprising him. "I've been Joey's parent since he was born—his only parent, with Mark being gone so much. It's time for Mark to step up and be a father, for once."

"So you want Mark to spend more time with your son."

"Absolutely." Beth nodded emphatically.

"That sounds reasonable. Perhaps joint custody-?" Greg began, but Mark cut him off.

"You know my schedule. When do I have time to take him to Little League or football practice, or to do the whole parent teacher conference thing?"

"He's your son! And I've been doing all of that for years, by myself!"

"I know you have! You remind me of it all the time!"

Greg made an impatient sound in his throat, his lips forming a thin line of disapproval. Beth took a deep breath before she spoke again.

"Listen, Mark. If I'm going to be a single parent in fact as well as in practice, I'm going to need to bring in more income. That means I need to go back to school to get my master's in accounting, so I can get a better job. And that means I won't have time to do any of Joey's stuff either."

"Hold on." Greg leaned forward even more, his face a mask of confusion. "Do I understand you both correctly? Neither one of you wants primary custody of your son?"

"It's not like that!" Mark protested. "I love Joey and I want what's best for him, but I can't give him the attention he needs."

"I've sacrificed enough of my life," Beth shot back. "You have no right to insist that I go on putting your needs first and ignoring my own!"

"With the alimony I'm prepared to offer, you won't have to get a better job," Mark told her. "You can even drop down to working part-time, if you want. There's plenty of money."

"And give up my career, my outside interests? What happens if you lose your job? What would Joey and I live off of then?"

"I am not going to lose my job!"

"Of course. Because you're going to make partner, like everyone else does in ten years." Mark had been with his firm for more than eleven. "It's just an observation," she finished sarcastically, watching him flush with anger.

"Beth. Mark." Greg held his hand up to stop them for the second time in their short conversation. They had been talking for less than fifteen minutes and he could already feel heartburn starting. "Do you fight like this in every conversation you have? I didn't ask what either of you want. I asked you to tell me what Joey wants. My primary concern at this point is for his well-being. Have either of you spoken with him?"

There was silence for a moment; then Beth shook her head. "I don't think it's right to make a child choose one parent over another."

"For once, I agree with Beth," Mark said. "It's too much for him to decide."

Greg sighed heavily. "Frankly, given the amount of hostility between the two of you, I'm not convinced that living with either of you is in his best interest. We may need to come up with another solution." He glanced at his watch as he spoke. "I suggest the two of you get comfortable in those seats. We might be in for a very long session."