MR. AND MRS. Timmey received the notice in the mail on December 31st, 2033, just as they were anxiously discussing whether to take Theo, their one-year-old son, to the Urgent Care Center for his worsening fever.

Mrs. Timmey opened the envelope. “Look at this!” she said. “It’s a summons from Family Court!”

The registered letter instructed the couple to appear in court in one week’s time.

“I can’t imagine what that is,” said Mr. Timmey. His mind was too taken up with the emergency at hand to give it much thought.

The following week, the couple dutifully appeared at the imposing structure on Fourth Avenue, carrying little Theo, still not completely recovered from his bronchitis. Tess and Tommy, their three-year-old and five-year-old, were with a friend.

They passed through the security checkpoint. After they put their socks and shoes back on, Mrs. Timmey presented the letter to the woman at the front desk. “We have no idea why we are here,” she said anxiously.

The woman was unmoved. She pointed down a hallway with tile walls and grayish lighting.

“Third door on the left.”

The Timmeys found a waiting room filled with Family Court clients in chairs against the walls, which were adorned with photos of happy, smiling parents with happy, smiling children. A talent contest was on two television screens. A woman at a counter behind a bullet-proof window told them to be seated. The judge would call them, she said, when he was ready for their case.

They waited anxiously. Little Theo began to wheeze softly. After 45 minutes, they were summoned.

“Sit down,” said a man behind a raised desk. An unsmiling armed guard with two guns in his holster sat at his side.

“Now let’s get this over with so you two can go home,” the judge said energetically and cheerfully.

“We don’t know why we are here,” said Mrs. Timmey, her voice quivering.

“Family Court has granted you both a divorce,” the judge declared.

“A divorce!” said Mr. Timmey. “We never asked for a divorce!!”

He turned to his wife just to be sure.

“No, not me,” she blurted out. “I get mad at the way he loses his slippers, but I never told anyone about it, not even him. I don’t want a divorce. I never asked for one!”

The judge smiled indulgently, as if he had heard this line of argument too many times.

“Very nice,” he said. “But your approval is not necessary. Family Court has dissolved your marriage.”

“But why?” Mr. Timmey said.

“Your income is too low to support your family, for one, Mr. Timmey.”

“We also have numerous reports in your file: empty recycling bins, troubling silence from your apartment, a five-year-old son who didn’t show up for his ‘Me and My Rights’ classes… And a few other things.”

“We feel it would be best for your family if the marriage was dissolved. You might then both get your acts together.”

“For the children, of course,” he added. The security guard put one hand on his holster.

“But what about the children?” Mrs. Timmey cried. Little Theo, as if aware of the drama, began to cough.

The judge removed three laminated sheets from a desk drawer. They were labeled: Custody Agreement A, Custody Agreement B, and Custody Agreement C. Photos of happy, smiling parents with happy, smiling children illustrated the charts.

“You can choose from one of these. But you don’t need to decide now. You have two days.”

“What if we want to live together?”

Theo began to hack loudly. The judge looked at a long column of numbers on another sheet and ran his pen down it.

“A Failure-to-Separate Divorce will cost you …. ah, here it is … $336 per month.”

“We don’t have that kind of money!!”

“Then I advise you to do what Family Court suggests, and separate immediately.”

Little Theo’s wheezing suddenly worsened.

“We need to go!” Mrs. Timmey said to her husband. “We need to get him home right away.”

“Just sign here,” the judge said.

They quickly signed and fled out the door with the little boy in his mother’s arms.

“What are we going to do?!” Stella Timmey said to her husband as they got into their little car. Her voice was filled with the girlish desperation he secretly found so becoming. Theo’s breathing eased.

“I’ll get a second job, or third if I have to,” the father said as they pulled out of the parking garage.

“But you already tried that,” she said. “And you were so exhausted… You’re not doing that. Absolutely not. I won’t have it.”

“I’ll open a day care center,” she said.

“Honey, you’re already running a day care center.”

“Look,” he said, in that voice of absolute assurance she secretly found so becoming. “We’ll figure out a way. Don’t worry. Don’t worry at all.”

He pulled over to the side of the road.

“What are you doing?”

“Dear heart,” Mr. Timmey said, looking into her adorable face and marveling anew that she put up with him. “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

“Yes?”

“Will you divorce me?”

“I thought you would never ask.”

They shared a deep and ancient kiss. Tear drops sealed their consent.

The wind ceased to rattle through the tiny airways of Theo Timmey. And he fell fast asleep.

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