Free Ch. 02

***

With Anya in the kitchen happily eating her macaroni and cheese with chicken and veggies, Martha dragged Traci into the back bedroom by the arm.

"What is Derrick out there doing? Is he bringing drugs into my house? I won't have that shit, Traci! I've worked too hard to have that ex-con ruin my life!"

"What, mom? No!" Traci exclaimed, completely appalled. "He's not like that anymore. Why do you always assume the worst of him?"

With a snide snort, she said, "Because he's a criminal. I expect criminals to commit crimes. I have common sense that way."

Dismissing her mother with a wave, Traci said, "Whatever! I'm not getting into this with you. I'm dealing with too much right now. He's not bringing drugs into your house or committing any crimes. Get over it already."

With her hands on her hips and her foot tapping on the floor, she asked, "If it's not Derrick, then what's going on around here? Why are you sitting here crying?"

Reluctantly, Traci told her everything. She told her about how Manny showed up hours ago, checking on her after not seeing her for half the year. He was also hoping to see Rick and welcome him home.

She knew her mother wouldn't approve of Manny being in her house, which was why she hesitated to tell her about it. She wasn't going to let him in, but he promised that he didn't have any drugs on him, and that he was going to be the perfect gentlemen. And for the most part, he was.

Things didn't get awkward until Rick walked in. The tension got thick. Even though nothing was happening between her and Manny, and hadn't happened in a while, the tone was completely off. It was like he somehow just knew.

When the two of them walked out the door, Traci had the sinking feeling that this encounter would end badly. Would Rick beat Manny up? Would Manny murder her husband? There were no good endings that she could fathom.

Why did she have to let him in? On that note, why did she fuck him in the first place?

Despite her predictions, it didn't end like she envisioned. There was no murder; no fight. Instead, Rick just...ran away. That was probably the best outcome she could have only breathed a prayer for, but it still left an empty pit where her stomach should be.

He just ran; but from her.

Traci had always been a calming force on Rick. Her smile was the only thing that could quell a bad situation with him. But this time, she WAS the bad situation. With her removed, there was nothing that could keep Rick from lashing out.

Yet, somehow, he remained relatively controlled enough to not go after Manny, even in the face of justifiable anger. How was that possible? What else, besides her, could possibly have that kind of effect on him?

Was it a sign that he was truly changing, or a sign that he no longer needed her like he once did?

Martha listened with interest, even though her frustration with her daughter was reaching stratosphere proportions. The only part of the story that Martha heard was that her stupid daughter allowed a murdering, drug dealer that she was once fucking into her home because he wanted to meet her violent, drug-dealing husband who was just released from prison.

How could that possibly go wrong?

"Please tell me I didn't raise you this stupid, Traci!" Martha said with exasperation. Yes, her daughter was hurting, but she couldn't muster up enough sympathy to feel bad when the possibility of a murder happening in her home was at the edge of her thoughts. "What the hell is wrong with you? What would make you even think that inviting him in here was a good idea? One drug dealer living in my house isn't enough for you, so you go and find another one to have sex with and invite in?"

"Mom!"

"Shut up! I have been more than accommodating to you and the criminal that knocked you up and married you, despite my feelings about him!"

Now on her feet, Traci was in her mother's face. "YOU WILL NOT CALL HIM A CRIMINAL AGAIN! He did his time and paid his debt to society. His name is Rick, and that is the only way you will refer to him!"

Martha released a loud breath from her nostrils as she glared at her daughter. A part of her wanted to address the audacity of this little girl feeling the courage to challenge her; another part of her respected it.

Martha could have pointed out that Rick did some time, but four years was an extremely light sentence for the monster they painted him out to be during his trial. Even if they couldn't pin everything on him, there was no way Rick bought that house and those cars with money made from a crime that was only worth four years.

Yet, she relented. There was no way to get her daughter to see Derrick in any other light but the man she loved. Despite all his shortcomings, one thing Martha was certain of was the fact that he loved her daughter too. Did he love her enough to avoid putting his wife and daughter through another ordeal like that again? Martha hoped so but expected not. Only time would tell.

Giving a small olive branch, she said. "When Derrick shows me differently, I'll look at him differently."

Traci gave her mom a small smile of thanks. "Give him a chance. He will."

Martha had her doubts, but she had to drop it because there was something else that was bothering her right now.

"So, let's talk about the fact that you were having an affair with the biggest drug dealer in our area, and that you LET HIM IN MY HOUSE! You keep talking about all this love you have for your husband, but that seems awfully suspicious."

Traci looked at the floor and flopped back down on the bed. "Me and Manny are done. Have been for a while. You don't have to keep throwing it up in my face."

Martha looked at her daughter through narrowed eyes, snorted a scoff, and asked "Who were you texting the day we went to pick up Rick?"

"Huh?"

"In the car; when we were driving back. I caught you texting somebody on your phone. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. Who was that?"

Traci stuttered for a second, stopped, and looked guilty for a second before admitting, "Okay, that was Manny..." When Martha threw her hands in the air in exasperation, Traci quickly added, "...but it wasn't like that. He was just asking if we'd gotten Rick yet."

"Then why were you over there giggling like a little girl with a crush?"

"What? I wasn't giggling over Manny!"

Martha just looked at her with an unconvinced expression. Thinking back, Traci nodded, like she remembered something. "I guess it's because he asked if Rick got buff. I think I sent him an emoji with hearts in the eyes or something, I don't know. It was like a week ago. But you have to believe me! There is nothing going on between us!"

Shaking her head, Martha said, "How many times are you gonna say that, Trace? Repeating it a bunch of times doesn't make it go away. Who cares if you didn't fuck him today? You were fucking him while being this married woman who is soooo in love with your husband! You don't get to play semantics when you are inviting chaos into my house! Now, you're a grown woman, and I've tried to stay out of your business. Even when you were acting like a teenager who just sprouted tits, I backed off. But you have your own daughter to look after. She should be the most important thing to you, not running around chasing these drug-dealing men!"

Feeling the need to defend herself and her husband, Traci said, "I'm don't chase men! I didn't chase Manny. But I am chasing Rick, because he's not men, he's my husband."

Martha let out an irritated snort through her nose. "Then you should have thought of that before you fucked the other one!"

Her mom was right. She didn't think. Or rather, she did think, but only about how she was tired of masturbating. After a year and a half of nothing but her fingers, a worn-out vibrator, porn, and her imagination, she needed a warm body. The thought of over 4 more years made her anxious. She was at the point where putting on her panties made her ready to burst!

To make matters worse, she was hit on constantly. Guys at work, guys on the streets, even her babysitter's boyfriend were testing her chastity. She was always on edge; snapping at the slightest things. Yes, she loved Rick with all her heart, but mama needed relief!

Perhaps that was the problem. Tracy never had to really chase men. She'd always had her choice. She didn't chase Rick, and she certainly didn't chase Manny. Both men were at her disposal. She chose Rick because he was nicer, sexier, and seemed more kind-hearted.

Whenever she went without sex in her life, it was because she chose to. The moment she wanted it; it was always just a finger's snap away.

But now, it wasn't. When that judge slammed his gavel down, he sentenced both of them to 6 years absent each other's touch. They were separated by three hours and an impenetrable prison. Their only relief was a 10 second hug twice a month.

With her eyes lowered submissively to the floor, she said, "You're right mom. I started all this. And now, I wish I could take it all back."

For the first time tonight, Martha looked at her daughter and felt sympathy. She walked over to her, pressed Traci's head into her bosom, and hugged her as she did when she was a child.

The front door opening caught both of their attention. Traci snapped her head up and the two women looked at each other. Then, Traci scrambled to get up and around her mother.

Both ladies made it to the living room at the same time. Both saw a rather subdued Rick standing there with his eyes on the floor and his hands in his pockets.

"Rick, baby..." Traci said with relief in her voice as she rushed over to him. He recoiled from her and backed up, like he was afraid to touch her.

Speaking to directly to Martha, he said, "Miss James, I want to thank you for putting me up in your home. I know you don't approve of me much, but you did it anyway. For that, you have my gratitude. But I can't stay in your house any longer. I can't have Anya growing up remembering me as the angry man who treated her mother badly; but that's what I'll become if I stay."

Martha, who was taken aback by his demeanor and transparency, simply asked, "Where will you stay?"

Rick shrugged his shoulders with a sad look on his face. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't even know how this will affect my parole. But I'll take my chances with that if it means not becoming the man I don't want to be. I just want the best for Anya, even if it means not having me around."

That's when Martha saw it. She saw a flash of the man Traci was talking about. He was trying to change; to be a better man. It wasn't an act. He wasn't doing it to make himself look better or win any points. He was doing it for one reason, and one reason only.

Anya.

He did love his family enough to not put them through that ordeal again.

Perhaps I was wrong about him. Martha thought. For the first time, she didn't look at him and see a drug dealer. She saw a man who desperately wanted to be someone different. He just needed help getting there.

Clearing her throat, Martha said, "I don't think that's a good idea, Derrick. Like you said, you don't know how that will affect your parole. If you are truly trying to change like you and my daughter keep telling me, then being a martyr and going back to prison isn't the way to prove it. You owe it to Anya, and society as a whole, to fully reform yourself."

Rick nodded, but the pensive look on his face didn't go away. He kept his eyes down, afraid to look at Traci.

"I don't know what to do." He said, his voice small and vulnerable. He sounded like a lost boy trying to find his way home.

The cops couldn't break him. The courtroom couldn't break him. Even prison couldn't. But now, that's how he stood before them; broken.

Traci wanted to run over there and wrap herself around him. He needed her! It was in moments like these that he leaned on her. But she couldn't be there for him; not now. At his lowest point, she was unable to soothe him because she was the reason he was there.

Walking up to him, Martha lifted his chin so that he was looking at her. When she had his attention, she said, "You are going to sleep on the couch, and tomorrow you're going to go see your parole officer. Explain to him that you and Traci are having trouble, and you need another place to stay. I know that there is temporary housing for people fresh out of prison. But you are not going to violate your parole. You're gonna do this the right way, because the best thing for Anya is a father in her life who is going to do right by her. You are all she has, so your only reason to exist on this earth is to be the man she needs you to be. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am." He mumbled humbly.

"Rick..."

Martha looked back and shot her daughter a rather nasty look to shut her up. Then she turned back to her son-in-law and asked, "Are you hungry? There is Mac and cheese, chicken, and mixed veggies in the kitchen."

Rick nodded, and still avoiding looking at Traci, he went into the kitchen to get something to eat. Traci went to follow him, but Martha grabbed her by the arm to stop her.

"Mom let go. I have to talk to him."

"No!" she said, pointing a finger in her face. "Not tonight. The two of you will talk, but only after he is settled into another place."

Traci's face grimaced as she said, "What?! You were serious about that? Fuck that! He's not going anywhere! He's my husband, and he's gonna stay here and work this out with me. I need to talk to him; to tell him that I love him."

At that point, Martha did something that she'd never done before. She slapped Traci, right in the face. Hard.

Traci looked at her mother with big, hurt eyes as she held her stinging cheek. Her mouth was gaped open in surprise.

But Martha's face showed no apology. Instead, she sternly asked, "Do you know what he just did; what he was ready to do? He chose her."

She said this while pointing at Anya, who was sitting at the table playing with the food on her plate.

"That's what he's doing, right now. He is choosing her over himself. What do you think he really wants to do to you and Manchester right now? Do you think he wants to be standing here, holding his head down like he's afraid of his own voice? Of course not. You will not rob him of being a father."

"But..."

"But nothing. Leave him alone. For the first time, I get it. I see what you see. I do see him trying to be a better man. But he's going to need you to give him space right now, because at the moment, you are the only thing hindering that. So, let him go. When he is ready to talk, he will find you. You understand?"

Traci's heart wanted to keep fighting, but she knew her mother was right. So, she reluctantly nodded her head in acquiescence and leaned into her mother's hug.

Martha rubbed her Traci's head as she held her. Her head turned towards the kitchen, and she saw Rick sit down at the table with Anya. He bent low, kissed her on the head, and then started to eat his own food.

"I told you he was different." Traci said in an I-told-you-so joke, as if she were reading her mother's thoughts.

Martha snickered. "Shut up, Traci. No one likes a gloat."

***

Officer Giuliani leaned back in his chair as he studied Rick, just as he did yesterday. A part of him wanted to laugh out loud at the pure absurdity of the situation. Just yesterday, he warned Rick about maintaining a low profile to keep Miss James happy. Just yesterday, he warned him about staying clear of Manchester Childs. Just yesterday.

But today...

Life can be funny.

Still, at least he was here voluntarily telling his story. This conversation could have been happening from a jail cell because he did something stupid. That would have forced the officer's hand, and disappointed him greatly.

"You did the right thing coming to me, Derrick. Kudos to you for not getting yourself in trouble. And it certainly helps that Miss James came with you to corroborate your story."

With that he gave a nod to Martha, who was seated next to Rick in front of his desk. She returned the gesture.

Her presence here was another thing that he found interesting. Yesterday, he got the impression from Rick that he and this woman weren't on the best of terms. Yet here she was, sitting next to him, trying to find options to help him. Unless he was mistaken, it looked as if the woman was genuinely concerned for his future.

Either something changed between the two of them since yesterday, or Rick was inaccurate about this woman's distain for him. Either way, it spoke well for the young lad.

"Yes, I can set you up in housing. Unfortunately, it's gonna take some time. There's a bit of a waiting list. Had this been set up from the go, then that would have been a different story. But..."

"I understand." Rick said, though a worried expression fell on his face.

Officer Giuliani grunted a sigh. "Is there any way that you can co-exist with Mrs. Morrison for the time being without doing anything stupid?"

The look on Rick looked next to him at Martha, and then to the floor. His face answered that question for him.

He felt for the kid. Really, he did. This was just plain bad luck of the worst kind. Unfortunately, there were no good solutions today; just ones that sucked less than others.

Leaning forward, he said, "Look, kid, the best thing for you to do right now is to keep busy; stay out of the house as much as possible. That would be possible if you had a job. So, why don't you start there? Go job hunting like your sanity depends on it. Find something that saps the energy out of you. In the meantime, I'll put you on the short waiting list. When I find something out, I'll give you a shout. Okay?"

That got a nod from Rick. He stood, extended his hand, and said, "Thank you Officer Giuliani."

He grabbed Rick's hand and shook it. Then he walked the two of them out, waving at them as they got into Martha's car.

"Good luck, kid." He muttered as he put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it.

It was very rare that one of these parolee's got under his skin in such a short time. After so many years on this job, and so many disappointments, he'd grown accustomed to not giving a shit. It served him well to stay detached; kept his head out of a liquor bottle.

But sometimes, he just couldn't help himself. He was only human, after all.

***

In the following weeks, there was an odd hush around Martha's house. That's not to say that it was peaceful. In fact, the hostility was dense in the air, despite the fact that no one was fighting.

The silence of avoidance was worse than the noise of yelling or screaming. At least with the noise, the problems would be getting dealt with; not left to build or fester. This cold indifference was a haunting by a malevolent spirit. It was all around whenever the two of them were in the same room. Even if they weren't in the same room, Traci felt the icy shivers of his quiet anger.

And so, life in Martha's house became like that slow moment in a thriller movie before a major death. Every small sound is magnified against the stillness of the creepy nothingness. The tension is thick because you know that any moment, something bad is about to happen. That knowledge just leaves you on edge in a state of limbo; anticipating the jump-scare at the crescendo.

Traci decided to take her mother's advice and give Rick his space. It killed her emotionally each day, chipping away at her sanity. She was left to wonder what was going inside of his head, which in itself is torture by a thousand cuts.

By not naming the monster, its mysteriousness made it that much more powerful.