For those of you who have not had the pleasure of getting a divorce yet, here’s how it works: Each side sends the other a list a questions (interrogatories) about financial and other items. The other side has 30 days to respond and must do so fully and completely. This is required by law.

Once all the answers are compiled, if there are no children involved, you add up all the assets and find some way of dividing them by two. Washington is a community property state.

I had told my attorney not to bother asking The Departed for information – just subpoena it – he disagreed, but had also  seen enough to realize that there might be something to what I was saying. I gave him a list of accounts.

He looked at it and said, no, I know the company he works for. He has a defined benefit plan – a pension. Everyone does who works there.

No, I said.  I work in finance and managed our finances for eight years. I applied for two mortgages with him. There’s no pension, I said.

I’m sure you can imagine my surprise when the subpoenaed documents arrived and showed that, yes, The Departed has a pension plan. And accrued benefits. It was clearly stated on page one of the documents sent by his employer, in the second sentence: Defined Benefit Plan (pension) and Defined Contribution Plan.

We sent copies of all the documents we received to his attorney’s office. Imagine our surprise when, in the midst of all his non-answers to the interrogatory questions, he mentioned another retirement account, but did not mention a pension plan.

Not only did we already have all the documents,  we had sent copies of them over to his attorney’s office. Basically, we’d done most of his homework for him.

Yet he still refused to answer the questions.

My attorney made a call and let them know that if he didn’t care to respond, a judge could compel him to do so and fine him for every day he failed to comply. We provide a detailed list of shortcomings, and specifically point out that he has neglected to mention the pension.

A few days later, interrogatories were returned, this time with answers to most of the questions.

He still does not mention  a brokerage account of his which holds shares of company stock; nor does he include his pension account.

I go back (again) to the documents his employer sent over. No, I’m not hallucinating: there it is. Page one. Second sentence.

Defined Benefit Plan. Pension.

My attorney responds quickly now to his attorney. They are trying to come up with mediation dates and also get the papers together so that we can mediate at all. Papers must be complete. Where are these two accounts? We provide the account number of the brokerage account. They already have the information about the pension; they’ve had it for months now. We know because we sent it to them.

And the reply comes back: My client apologizes for overlooking the brokerage account. He had forgotten about that account; here is a current statement. However, there seems to be some confusion about the pension: He has checked all of his employment records and we have confirmed that no such plan exists.

I go back and check the documents (again) that his employer sent over. Yes, it’s still there. Page one. Second sentence. Still not hallucinating.

This time, my lawyer takes a different tack: Since to our knowledge, all employees of that company receive a pension, please ask your client to have the company provide proof that your client is not and never was eligible for such a pension.

A few days later, we receive a terse email. “Upon further checking, our client has learned that he is eligible for a company pension. See attachment.”

I receive no apology. And although sorely tempted to demand my own “show of good faith,” I know it will only cost me more money, needlessly. It would be fun, I think, to put him in front of a judge with his forgotten and denied accounts – but there are cheaper forms of entertainment.

But we are headed for a judge and a trial as well – a very, very expensive trial – if we cannot find a way to mediate with the man who will not cooperate in any way with any part of the process.

By the second week after he abruptly departed, I had hired an attorney, and within another week, we had served him with divorce papers.

I received a text: All you had to do was apologize.

When you think about it, though, divorce papers are a form of apology. What they really say are, I’m sorry I married you. I take it back.

We sent a proposal for temporary orders: He would pay the rent of the apartment he had just leased and his car payments, while I would pay the mortgage on the house and my own car payments. Simple.

He called my lawyer and screamed. The paralegal ended the conversation abruptly, which was her polite way of saying, he wasn’t very polite so I hung up on him.

He called my lawyer back and asked for an attorney referral. My lawyer chuckled and emailed him some names.

He hired someone else and sent back a reply to the proposed temporary orders:  I should pay him spousal support.

My lawyer calms me down. No judge would ever award it in this state, since he can fully support himself, he says.  I’m a little concerned about the attorney that would sign their name to that.

One of his complaints is that since I’ve changed the locks, he has no access to his “stuff” – ignoring the fact that I have delivered his “stuff” to a storage facility, which I paid for myself and gave him the combination to. We offer to produce pictures of the items in the house and he can provide ONE list of items he wants; I will make one delivery.

We send back this reply.

They reply with additional demands: No, that’s not how he wants his “stuff.” He should be able to make requests for items from the house, one at a time. I should have to turn deliver each item to him within 24 hours or face sanctions.

Right, I tell the lawyer. Don’t bother anymore. $2,000 have been spent we’re no closer to an agreement than we were before. Fine, he says.

Spring becomes summer and it occurs to me that if the house is going to be sold, summer would be the best time. We send a letter asking what he’d like to do about the house – does he want it? Does he propose it be sold?

We receive no response.

My lawyer suggests we send over a list of interrogatory questions: Standard stuff at this point. He’s supposed to produce a list of financial statements and property he claims is his alone.

I said: The Departed will never answer these questions. Let’s not waste our time sending them. I know what it in his accounts. We don’t need any of this.

We compromised: We sent subpoenas to all the accounts on the list, and also to his employer.

I receive a set of interrogatories from his attorney’s office.

Great, I say, and we send a set of identical questions over to him while I fill mine out and start tracking down records.

I send over about two pounds of financial and other records.

To each of the questions, he gives one of three replies: I don’t know – she knows. I refuse to answer on the grounds the question is too broad and not relevant. Discovery is ongoing.

No, says my attorney. He holds a conference with the other attorney. Finally, we receive a reply.

They request we select a mediation date from a list of suggested dates. We reply with the most convenient date. They reply, that date will no longer work. Also, although they had initially requested mediation, they now require a detailed property proposal from me – none from their side – before they will even consent to proceed. This is needed as “a show of good faith.”

Back and forth, back and forth. The legal bills mount.

Nine months, and no closer to a resolution than the day he left.