It's Only Fair Ch. 07

Victor pointed his finger at me. "You mouthy bastard. Your time here is numbered, buddy-boy. This crappy attitude of yours is what must had earned you that black eye you had. Someone probably put you in your place."

I turned to Andy, barely able to hold my anger in check. "Bang me out sick for the rest of the day, Boss." I stormed off to my office and grabbed my briefcase.

"Victor, you're such a pompous ass!" Andy pushed past the VP and stopped me just before I left. "You go home, and don't worry about this, Ok? I'll talk to Barry. You're my guy."

"Thanks boss." I gave Victor a cold glare and then marched out of the building, his voice and Andy's melding together as the two of them fought on.

I hit the parking lot and just sat in my car, head back and staring at ceiling. Just fucking great, Rick. Might as well now have a shitty time at work to go along with your shitty home life, shitty marriage, and shitty personal life. I started the car and put it in gear, driving slowly to the daycare.

Kerri was very surprised to see me so soon and grew worried after I told her what happened at work.

"Damn, Mr. Rick. It's my fault, isn't it? For making you take so many lunches?"

I shook my head, picking Amber up from her nap and resting her head on my shoulder. "No, Kerri. Victor and Andy have been fighting for years. This is just the latest and truthfully, I wasn't going to take it." I clenched my fist. "I want to strike back at something, somehow. But there isn't anything for me to hit back at. I feel so ineffective, just a loser."

"You are far from a loser, Mr. Rick. No one I know thinks you are and your daughter, even though she can't understand it yet, she could not have a better father than you." She smiled up at me, cheeks dimpling, "So you just shake that and go home. It will work out, you'll see."

I thanked her and wound my way home, the rain a perfect outward expression of how I felt inside. Once home, I changed into a pair of shorts and tee and took advantage of this time to really just play with Amber. Horsey-rides, Airplane, blocks, peek-a-boo; just a perfect stay inside mind dump of an afternoon. Each time I felt myself mulling over my predicament or catching myself staring out the front window to the house across the street I gave myself a little admonishment and refocused my time with my daughter.

Around 5 when I was contemplating what to start making for dinner, my phone rang with a California area code on it. "Fuck me," I muttered, "Barry." I cleared my throat and steadied myself before connecting. "Hello Mr. Dunwright," I said clearly and with confidence.

"Rick. I told you to call me Barry." Barry was in his early 70's but still had no interest in retiring. His daughter had been working with the company for twenty years and when he finally decided to stop working, it was well established that she was going to take over, but for now, all major and a number of mid-level decisions went through him. "I heard you had a conflict with Victor today."

"Yes, Barry. And I want to apologize for my actions."

He chuckled. "Don't bother. I heard from Andy that he was being an ass. Truth is Victor is pissed and looking for any reason to cast doubts on you. He really wanted me to hire his nephew and give the kid an analyst job at $40k." He laughed again. "I told him I would think about it, but he took it as a yes."

"Victor's a great production man. When you have over 120 employees you have to oversee and are on constant daily quotas, you need someone like him running it. Where he lacks though is interfacing with the office but it's obvious that this isn't a surprise to anyone."

Barry continued, "Actually, Rick, I wanted to talk to you about a call I received last week. From Child Protective Services?"

Ah, crap. "Really? I wasn't aware they were going to call."

"Tell me what's going on, Rick."

I gave Barry a very watery version of my tale, light on details but heavy on the gravity of it. "And unfortunately, Barry, this means that sometimes I'll be called away to court, or meetings with CPS, or who knows what."

"Rick, you're a great employee and have a pretty exemplary record, so don't worry. You take care of your family and we'll work around some of these issues unless they become insurmountable." I heard him hum into the phone as if thinking. "Rick, it's hard being a single parent. My sister did it after my brother-in-law passed away. My nephew and niece were eleven and eight at the time. It was years ago, but I remember how hard it was on her."

I said nothing.

After a long enough pause, Barry continued, "I expect to hear you've come to work tomorrow."

"I will, sir. And thanks."

"Have a good night, Masters."

I hung up and sighed. Yes it was nice of Barry to call and smooth things out, but I was disturbed that CPS was now in touch with the owner of the company I worked for. What were they looking for? Work history? Discipline issues? What was their angle? I was very distrustful of them and the situation; I only wanted them to leave me alone.

I returned to work the next day, Andy giving me numerous thumbs up and more of his shadow boxing thrusts with his meaty arms whenever I walked by. "Knock 'em dead, Knock 'em dead" he said, punching the air when he could. I took it good naturedly; apparently the majority of the office had heard about Victor's ill-timed attempt to push his weight around and my walking out yesterday. I didn't see him at all, but I did get an email thanking me for the production numbers after I sent them.

By Wednesday Lenny had let me know that the divorce paperwork had been delivered to Elle's lawyer and that she had been informed of my actions. Being there was an Order of Protection in place against Elle, she was going to live with her mother in Lindenhurst upon her anticipated discharge from Huntington. Through a number of phone calls with Jan I promised that I would have Elle's belongings brought there before she was released.

So each night after work and after Amber went to sleep, I went through the house with empty boxes and plastic bags and carefully packed up Elle's belongings for her. Clothes, music, makeup, jewelry, her computer, office supplies, chair, lamp, desk; I even disconnected the spare TV from the office and her coffee maker from the kitchen.

I know that my mother thought I was being a chump in giving all this to Elle but Lenny had given me some terrific advice concerning the division of property during these sorts of things. "Next to custody, the division of assets is the next most contentious part of the divorce. She wants the coffee table? Let her have it! Go buy another. She wants the dishes? Let her have them! Go buy new ones. The person who 'wins' in a divorce is the one who doesn't let the other person drive them crazy. She will want to fight with you over the stupidest thing; and that's what you have to remember – they are just things. As long as it's not a personal item or an heirloom, just let her have it. You'll be happier without the stress and she'll have her arguments short circuited."

I was calmer as the days passed; slowly as time went on the stress Amber and I had been living under while Elle was here faded. The only time my ire flared to life was when I saw Stan across the street. Sometimes he would stop whatever he was doing and stare at my property, as if he was trying to build the courage to come over and talk to me. But thankfully he never did, because I didn't know if I would have the sense of self to not lash out if faced with him again.

Kerri and I continued to go to lunch, two or three times a week. I called her on the weekends and she did the same to me. Our conversations weren't long, maybe 15 or 20 minutes tops. It was nice having a friend who was a woman, but I never led her on nor did I ever follow up on some of her less than subtle flirting.

Two days before Elle was to be released, Lenny gave me a call with a request from Dr. Harding. It seems that the doctor felt that Elle had reached a state of equilibrium and wanted to talk with me while the doctor was present. Did I want to possibly speak with her and if so, Elle's lawyer and Lenny would clear it with the courts for another dispensation. I told him yes and he called me later to say that I should expect a call 8:30 that night.

I tried to make it through the rest of the day but my mind was a mess. All my insecurities, all my worries, all the concerns and fears I had been having and wrestling with; just the thought of talking with Elle was like ripping a scab off – they were open and bleeding and raw. I made sure that Amber was in bed enough time before 8:30 so I would not be interrupted. I sat in the office, staring at the clean square of the rug where her desk sat only a few days ago. The power strip was still on the floor, a layer of grey dust outlining the empty holes where the plugs once were. The symbolism not lost on me as it felt that way in my heart with the thought of Elle missing from my life.

*Ring*

Show time, Rick.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Masters? This is Doctor Harding from Huntington Hospital. Thank you for taking this call."

"Any time, Doctor."

"I have Mrs. Masters here and we have reached a point in her therapy that she would like to address you directly. I will be handing the phone over to her but I will still be in the room. You will have privacy to speak to one another and I will monitor only Elle's side of the conversation. Do you understand?

"Yes, I do."

"Excellent. Here's Mrs. Masters."

I heard the sound of the phone rustling and my mouth suddenly went dry. My vision narrowed down to a small point on the wall as I could feel Elle's presence on the other side of the phone. After was felt like a terrible length of time, I heard her voice ask, "Rick?"

She sounded hoarse like she had been either using her voice too much or not enough. "Yes, Elle. I'm here."

"Hey."

Ok, not the most impressive on conversational starts, but it was all we had at this time. "I heard you're being released."

"Yeah, two days from now."

"That's good."

"It is. I can't wait. Mom is going to let me stay with her."

There was something else about her voice that was driving me crazy as I tried to understand it. She sounded flat; like she was dull or stoned or something. Normally when she talked it was listening to a mountain range with all the highs and lows and everything in between. But this, it was Elle on the phone, but at the same token it also wasn't. It sounded as if the life had been pressed from her. She didn't sound down or depressed or sad – she just sounded flat. It was eerie.

"I've been bringing all your stuff over there. I'm hoping to bring your car there tomorrow night."

"Oh, that's nice, Rick. But I'm not going to be driving for a while. The medication they want me to be on for now make me unable to drive."

"Oh. Well, It'll be there for you anyway."

"That's nice, Rick." She paused. "How's Amber? I miss her."

"She's doing well. Real well."

"That's great. You're a good dad. And how are you?"

I sighed. "Not as good, Elle. To be honest. But I'm doing what I have to."

"I am sorry, Rick." It was odd, she sounded apologetic and dull at the same time. Just talking to her was raising the hackles on the back of my neck. "I wanted to tell you that I was wrong, Rick."

"Wrong, Elle?"

"Yes. For a lot of things. There are so many to be sorry for."

My throat was tight and I could feel tears rise unbidden. "It's ok, Elle."

"No it isn't, Rick. I should never have hit you. Ever. You've never raised a hand to me and I hit you. I should also never have driven you to call the police; that was wrong too. I should also never have lied to you that I was working during the day, because I wasn't. You put up with me during the worst time of life and got nothing in return for it except my anger and abuse."

She continued. "The medication they have me on is working very well. I have a good grip on things and my psychologist is helping me to understand that my problem isn't going to go away. I'll have to be vigilant. I can see that now and I don't want to go back to that kind of person I was before."

"That's great, Elle. I'm so happy for you. So proud."

"So, being that I am working on my side of the equation, I was wondering if I could ask you to work on yours? Is there any chance that you can hold off on this divorce until I am better? I don't want to face this without you, Rick. Can't you wait 6 months until we see that my disorder is under control?"

It's odd, but a month ago I would have said 'yes' without pausing even after getting hit; typical battered spouse. Three weeks ago I would have agreed even after CPS entered my life; making excuses. But for the last two plus weeks I had also learned of her betrayal of the exclusivity of our marital vows...and the betrayal of my neighbor and friend. And she did it with forethought and planning and cunning and in such a way that excluded me and Amber from her life.

True, there was no vaginal intercourse, but the two of them did share an intimacy that was on the same level of actual sex and they did so as my expense.

I also noted that although she listed her apologia, she neglected to bring that specific matter up and it's absence at this time was a glaring omission in her spiel.

"Elle."

"Yes?"

Sigh. "No."

"Oh."

I could tell she was crying, and it broke my heart. "Now I'm sorry, Elle."

"Oh."

"It's not what I wanted, Elle. I isn't. But things aren't so easy and although I love you, damn you have no idea how much I do, although I do, I have to do what's right for Amber and I now. And that means I...well, I just can't."

"That's...really a shame, Rick. I hope you know what you're doing."

"I think so, Elle." I gathered my thoughts. "Elle, can you answer a question for me?"

"I'll try."

"Why? I mean, why the handcuffs and tape and flogger? And why not with me?"

"Oh! You found all that?"

"Yes, weeks ago."

She took a deep breath and let it out. "I don't know, I just wanted to try it."

"That's it? Where did you even hear about that stuff?"

"I had a lot of time and didn't want to work that much during the day. So I took to watching TruTV. Court cases, detective shows, that sort of stuff. On a number of them they discussed victims of sexual games that had gone wrong. Bondage and handcuffs and ropes. I guess it hit me at a time when I was feeling manic and it sort of took over my thoughts."

"Again, Elle. Why not talk to me?"

"I just didn't. It didn't seem like something I wanted to do with my daughter's father. I didn't want her dad to be a part of that culture."

"And how about Amber's mom?" I asked growing cross. "That's ok?"

"I didn't think of myself as Amber's mom. I was pretty much a walking train wreck at this time."

"Elle. How did...how did Stan get involved in this?"

"He asked."

I gulped. "What?"

"He asked. He was off work in November, his brother had no work for him, so he would come over often to chat. And I told him about it when he noticed I was dominating a few people I had met online. And then he asked if he could participate, and I thought, why not?" She gave a small sob. "You're mad, aren't you?"

Mad didn't begin to identify how I felt. The betrayal I had faced from both of them roared up with renewed life. But this time, it was Stan's insincerity that took the higher plane. He wasn't roped in, he wasn't coerced, he wasn't enticed. He...just...fucking...asked.

He asked.

"Elle," I croaked out. "I cannot begin to tell you how I feel. Don't you have any shame? Any remorse for what you've done?"

"I'm so sorry, Rick."

"You've killed me, Elle. You and that...that...that walking piece of shit have killed me. I'll never trust you again. Neither one of you. Do you realize what you've done? Do you have any inkling what you did to me?"

"I know. I know. It's not fair. It's not."

"Fair! HAHAHAHAHHA!! Fair! HAHAHAHAH!" I laughed out loud, tears running down my cheeks. "No, Elle. It's not fucking fair!"

"He called my mom to see if he could visit me here and I told her that I didn't want to see anyone else. I'll never talk to him again, Rick. Never. I didn't tell my mom why, no one has to know why. I'll never talk to him again, Rick. I swear. Just please...please don't leave me. Don't leave me, Rick. Please."

"No, Elle. It's too late."

Her crying became muted and then I heard Dr. Harding get on the phone. "I want to thank you, Mr. Masters for taking this call. I know it was traumatic for both of you, but at this time I believe we have exhausted any of the positive results we might get from such a dialog and should terminate it at this time."

I wiped my eyes dry with the back of my hand. "Thank you, Doctor. I agree."

"Mrs. Masters will be released in two days into the custody of her mother. I don't believe you and I will have the pleasure of conversing again; so I want to wish you only the best Mr. Masters. The best to you and your daughter."

"Thank you again, Doctor."

We hung up with one another and I walked into the living room where I stood at the window and looked across the street.

Stan.

Hate. Such hate. It filled my core like molten fire, burning the sides of my bones, searing my heart, my stomach, my lungs. I could not remember ever feeling this hate, this loathing. The backs of my eyes were awash in acidic bile. The skin of my hands was like poisoned nettles.

I wanted nothing of Elle's here. Nothing at all. I called Jan and asked her if she'd be home in the morning.

"Of course, Rick. Why, what's up? Don't you have work?"

"Yeah, I do. But I wanted to drop off Elle's car for her, even though I understand she not allowed to drive."

"That's so sweet of you. What do you want to do? Leave it here and I can drive you back home?"

"That would be terrific, Jan."

"You know, Rick. I have one better for you. Why don't you leave Amber with me all day and you can take my car to work. I really need an oil change and you know I don't like going." Jan had gotten ripped off at the local Jiffy Lube a few years earlier. Ever since then, she often leaned on Elle or I when it came time for her car's regular maintenance.

She continued, "I'll call your mom up and the three of us can spend the afternoon with Amber. Maybe you'll stay for dinner? Then afterwards she can take you and Amber home. How's that sound?"

I tried to laugh, but there was too much hostility towards Stan still rummaging around in my head; it came out as a low chuckle instead. "Sounds like you have it all planned out. Give my mother a call and set it up. I'll see you in the morning." I hung up, my eyes still locked at the other home across the street.

Stan.

I went to sleep with the hatred coiled around my midsection like a python, squeezing me in its tendrils, swallowing me in its maw.

The next day I loaded the last of Elle's stuff into her Cavalier. Amber and I then drove to Jan's house where I dropped the car, keys, and my daughter off to her grandmother's enthusiastic embrace. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and wished me a safe ride, the two of them waving goodbye as I drove off to work.

Jan's car was a 2006, off brown Toyota Camry that had seen better days. Jan was not the best of drivers so her car had dozens of little dings and scratches all over it from shopping carts, other cars, even one time she parked too close to a telephone pole and dented her door getting out. But it was reliable and she had owned it for eight years even though it looked like crap.

I got to work and tried to lose myself in the minutia of my day but it was maddeningly impossible. Everything reminded me of Stan's betrayal. I couldn't escape it. The rancor I felt would not let up, would not release me. I was trapped in a never ending circle of remembrance and hostility.