It's Only Fair Ch. 04

I drove back to work and poured myself into payroll for a few hours until I was finished. I then took out my phone and navigated to the two pictures Kerri had sent me. The second one included the caption, "No one deserves to be hit. Ever." I stared at my own face, black eye marring each shot.

My conversation with Kerri had brought to the forefront something that I had suspected but was willing to ignore. I pulled up google and looked up the phone number for the 5^th precinct. Jotting it down, I went to my office door and closed it quietly, looking for some privacy. I sat down, pulled out my phone, and dialed the number.

After three rings a pleasant woman's voice answered, "Fifth Precinct, Rafferty. How can I direct your call?"

"I would, er, well, I was struck over the weekend and I'd like to just have it on file."

"Are you ok, sir? Do you need an ambulance? Should I connect you with emergency?"

"No. Not like that. I got into a fight with my wife and I got hurt pretty bad. I wanted to file it somewhere."

She paused and I wondered if she thought I was a wimp or an asshole. "Would you like us to dispatch someone to your residence?"

"No. I'll come in if that's ok."

"That'll be fine sir."

"Thank you." I hung up, for some reason feeling like a moron. Just go down and talk to them, put something on file and go home.

The day ended and I left deep in thought. As I drove out of the parking lot I detoured to the deli across the street. I parked the truck and went in. I strode to the small Chase ATM kiosk and put my card in. For the second day in a row I withdrew $400 from the checking account, accepting the $2.95 service fee. I folded the money, stuffed it into my front pocket, and went back to my car.

What was I going to do with that money? $800 in total? We only had about three grand in savings and maybe $750 in checking. There were a handful of bonds in the file cabinet at home and I know there were two $5k CD's sitting out there, but we weren't rich. Like most couples we were about 5 paychecks from destitute. I guess it was more of the symbology of taking out the money. I had little control to date in the rest of my life so this was something that I could 'do' and 'get done'.

I entered the day care and was greeted by Shelly who said, "So, Mr. Masters. I heard you had a nice lunch today."

I tried not to smile. "It wasn't bad."

"Mm hmm," she watched me carefully. "Well, if you are looking for another lunch one day, you can let me know."

I fought the rising flush to my cheeks and stepped away with Shelly's laughter following me. "Hey, Mr. Masters, you seem pretty relaxed today." " Must have had a good midday break." "Yeah, I heard something about that." The other teachers kept up their comments as I walked by, stepping into the Zebra room and letting it close behind me.

"Hello, Mr. Rick," came the greeting from Kerri and the other teacher, calling to me in unison.

"Hello ladies. How was my daughter, today?"

Kerri was holding Amber, my daughter gripping her by her cut off collar, giving me more of a view of Kerri's expansive chest. I paused and then reached out, "Come on, honey." She was transferred to my arms, but not before pulling Kerri's shirt further away from her body.

Yellow bra.

I pretended I hadn't noticed the same way I pretended I didn't notice that her bra was most likely half a size too small for her. I looked away the way that men had learned to do after getting caught too many times in their teenage years. We all looked, or at least noticed. We learned to glimpse from the corner of our eye, or at a passing glance, or just to stare unfocusedly off to the right of our target. I did the same thing here and smiled blandly at Kerri.

"Thanks. And thanks again for this afternoon."

She beamed up at me, "Whenever you want, Mr. Rick."

"Have a good night guys," I called out and left. I dodged a few more pointed comments from the assorted teachers and made our way out to the Equinox where we loaded up and drove away.

We travelled towards home but this time I passed our exit and kept going a few further, taking the exit for Fifth Avenue and driving north through Bay Shore until I arrived at the police station. I stopped the car, looking at the blue and whites in the parking lot, deciding on whether I should be doing this. Hearing Amber in the back seat and seeing my black eye in the mirror firmed my resolve and I got out. I unhitched the car seat this time, carrying it in since I assumed I would need my hands free.

I was like most people, I had only a passing brush with the police and it was when I was younger. There was the incident where I punched the girl, a speeding ticket right after I got my license, and another ticket four years ago for driving without a seatbelt. That was my entire interaction with the police. And here I was, walking into the place.

The vestibule was clean but worn, the brownish industrial carpet had seen better days some time ago. A couple of plants (most likely plastic from the way they shined) were to the right beyond the second set of doors and a row of hard backed chairs were bolted to the wall and floor on the left. A low counter with three spots for people to greet you at dominated the front of the place and beyond it I could see through an open door a larger room and part of a hallway.

There were two officers on duty at this time, both female. The one on the right motioned me over and I approached with some trepidation. She was about my age, and from the cast of her skin and her hair I assumed there was some Latino in her background. She looked at me with a no nonsense stare, taking in my stride, face and mannerism as well as the carseat I was toting around with nothing more than a fast observation. "May I help you?"

"Yes, I called earlier. I wanted to talk to someone about an incident that occurred this weekend."

She glanced down, scanning something in front of her and then looked up. "You called before. Domestic disturbance. Spoke to officer Rafferty."

"Yes."

"I'm Officer Tate. And you are?"

"Masters. Rick Masters."

I wasn't very impressed so far, giving Officer Tate all my pedigree information: address, names, phone number, same for my wife. Once she had it all down, typed into whatever system she was working on, she said, "Just wait one moment, Mr. Masters. Please?"

I nodded and walked over to the chairs, sitting down with Amber's carrier between my legs. I looked down at her, rosy cheeks and smiling, trusting in me to do the right thing for her. Doing the right thing for her would mean though not doing the right thing for us as a family.

It wasn't more than a minute before a taller female officer came out from the behind the doorway, hand extended in my direction. "Mr. Masters? I'm Officer Rafferty, we spoke earlier today. Thank you so much for coming down." She gently but firmly guided me through a side door and down a hall to a small room with a desk, computer, and little else. "Please, have a seat."

Once comfortable, she asked, "And is this your daughter?"

"Yes. Amber Victoria Masters."

Officer Rafferty smiled, her fingers settling on the keyboard in front of her. "Ok, Mr. Masters. I can see from your eye and your complaint that you were struck by your wife this weekend. Saturday, correct?"

"Yes."

"Can you give me the broad strokes of what happened that led up to this?"

I found myself once again telling the story, this time to a cop. She listened without comment, typing down most of what I was saying without breaking eye contact with me. When my tale wound down she pressed the keys another few moments and then stopped. "Why did you not report this Saturday?"

"I didn't think anything of it at that time."

"Really? A black eye and a child in the house?"

"No. That's not what I meant. I meant that my wife had not been herself lately and even though it had not reached physical abuse levels before, she had been pretty cross with me lately; when she was interested in our life."

"Do you feel you or your child are in danger?"

This was the question I had dreaded was coming. But I had to answer it and do so honestly. "Before this weekend, not a chance in the world. Now? I would say 95, 90% we're ok. It's not like she's..." I stopped here, my mouth hanging open. Damn it, I thought, I was doing it wasn't I? I was doing what Kerri had told me that abused partners do. They make excuses. This Officer Rafferty doesn't know me, I have no macho pride to salvage by protecting Elle at this point or show that I can take it.

"Mr. Masters?"

"Officer Rafferty, I have no idea what my wife is capable of anymore. She hasn't been herself for a year and a half and although it's not every day, I feel like I'm the only one trying to come across in the marriage. At first it was compromise, and then I take another step, and another and another. Now I feel like I'm almost all the way across the street and it's just not enough. So no, I don't think she'd hurt Amber in the slightest, but then again, before Saturday I didn't think she'd hurl a computer at my head either."

"Ok, Mr. Masters. We'll have to file an official complaint. You are aware that in domestic disturbances we will have to come to the house and assess the situation. At that point we'll be able to better decide if there is a present danger and if so, we'll take steps to address it." She looked a bit harder at me. "Is there anything else about your situation you'd like to expand upon? Will Mrs. Masters agree to what you've detailed? You didn't perhaps maybe leave a part of the story out to make yourself look better?"

I stared at Officer Rafferty. Her straw like brownish blond hair was pulled tight away from her face in a snug ponytail and I couldn't see any makeup except possibly some cover-up base. It was her eyes though, cornflower blue and piercing, that were disconcerting to me. "No. I've been as open and honest as I can? You think I like this or being here? I've got a child to look after and I don't know what to do anymore."

She continued looking at me, weighing my words and rolling them about her mind. Eventually she seemed satisfied and relaxed slightly. "I understand, Mr. Masters. For what it's worth, I believe you." I don't know why, but hearing those words caused my eyes to water. I blinked and looked away, embarrassed at my actions. She continued as if she hadn't seen, "We have your address. This would be best handled if we could get Mrs. Masters to come in here, but given the facts as presented, I don't think that'll be an option."

She stood and I followed, taking Amber's car seat. "Let me get my partner and we'll follow you to your home."

"Thanks, Officer Rafferty. I can't thank you enough."

"Not a problem. If everything is as you reported, you did the right thing by coming in. It was very brave."

"I don't feel brave, Officer Rafferty; just tired. Until this afternoon, I'll be honest I wasn't going to come in. I had gotten some good advice and it really opened my eyes."

She escorted me out and to the front door. "Well, you should thank whoever gave you the advice. Too many times the victims don't come forward." She shook my hand, it was warm and dry. "We'll see you very soon. Be shortly behind you. Do not, I repeat, do NOT confront your wife when you get home. Ok?"

"Will do."

We left the precinct and I got into my Equinox, my hands shaking and eyes tearing. Holy crap, I can't believe I was doing this. Fourteen years with my wife, we have a child together, twelve years or so of being happy - and I am bringing the fucking cops to our house. As I had been doing lately though whenever my resolve seemed to waver, I looked in the mirror at Amber in the back seat and my own black eye once again - my spine stiffening in answer.

The drive home was slow, I kept looking back to see if the cops were behind me; they weren't. I got off my exit and drove with exaggerated care to my house, pulling into the driveway and letting the truck come to a gradual stop. I turned off the ignition and let the engine die, staring at my front door. I sat there for a few seconds, just staring. Eventually I took a shuddering breath, feeling the finality of what was about to happen settle over me.

I got out of the car, unhitched Amber from the car seat, and snagged the bags. My watch face showed 7:22.

It's time.

I squared my shoulders and strode with purpose towards the front door. I didn't check the knob, knowing that my wife didn't care enough that I was home to unlock the door for us. My key turned, and the metallic rasp of the lock sliding open resounded like cymbals to my ears. I opened the door and entered, leaving it ajar behind.

"Elle?" I called out.

"Here, babes," she replied, voice coming from the back room office. Babes? Doesn't she remember anything? "Oh my god! Look at the time! Hang on."

I placed my briefcase and Amber's bag by the counter and smiled sarcastically to see dishes in the...goddamned fucking sink again. I could hear her puttering around in the office, drawers closing and her chair scraping.

When she finally came out I was still standing there, shoulders square, feet apart, hips straight; Amber riding in the crook of my arm smiling. My expression was neutral, bland, emotionless. "Hey, Rick," she said, a weak grin on her lips that faded as she approached; my demeanor and black eye disturbing her. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Elle." I looked around. The empty laundry basket was on the couch, I didn't see the mail on the counter. The garbage was at the top of the pail. The floor looked grungy. "How was your day?"

"Er...ok I guess." She peered about, growing more uncomfortable. "What's going on? Why the attitude? Why are you both so late?"

"Oh, you were worried about us?"

She nodded.

"Because, you know, if you were, you could have called my cell phone to see where I was." I heard something pull into the driveway behind me, and then the sound of two...no three car doors slamming closed. My heart was encased in ice and I felt faint, but I smiled anyway.

"Rick," she said, her visage taking on a more aggressive bent, "don't start this shit again. And who's here? What's going on out there?"

She approached the door, striding past me, just in time to see two uniformed police officers (one of them Officer Rafferty) and a strident looking man in a worn green tweed blazer and a striped grey and blue tie climbing up the stoop and approaching the door. "Mrs. Masters?" Officer Rafferty asked.

"Yes?"

"I'm Officer Rafferty and this is Officer Blake," she indicated her partner, a 6' tall black male with deep set eyes and a very broad chest. She pointed to the older man with them adding, "And this is Sam Livingstein of Child Protective Services. May we come in?"

"No." "Yes."

Elle whirled to me as I gave them permission to enter, her eyes agog, face stunned at my betrayal. The two Suffolk County Cops took my approval without comment, the CPS representative followed behind, immediately looking around the house with an imperious eye. "Thank you," Rafferty continued. "Mrs. Masters we are here investigating a domestic complaint for Mr. Masters. Do you have anything you'd like to say about that?"

"What? Complaint? Rick? No, nothing."

"Would you be able to tell me how Mr. Masters received that black eye?"

"We had a little argument this weekend. It was an accident."

"I see."

Meanwhile Officer Blake had stepped further in, walking to the hallway and looking at the spackled area of the hall. "Mrs. Masters," his voice was deep and full of presence, "How did this hole get here?"

Elle was sweating now, but I could see the fury building in her eyes. 14 years with her and the last year and a half with her slowly descending into whatever had crawled inside her had given me an intrinsic knowledge of how close she was to losing her temper. "We had an accident. Happened during the argument."

"Really? What kind of accident?"

At that point Sam Livingstein spoke up, "Mr. Master's, I'd like to see the child's room please."

"Yes sir, right this way." I maneuvered past my wife and headed towards Amber's room, Sam following and taking note of everything he saw.

"Rick," Elle called out, "What's going on?"

"Mrs. Masters, we have a complaint issued against you, by Mr. Masters, that you struck him this weekend, assaulting him in the presence of your daughter. Is this true?"

I heard her answer, a shrillness gathering in her voice. "We were fighting. Married couples fight, ok? We have a mortgage, a house, bills, and a kid. Of course we fight? Don't you fight with your husband?"

"My relationship with Mr. Rafferty is not in question here, but I can assure you that I don't resort to violence to resolve our differences. Are you aware that what you did was a crime?"

"This is fucking preposterous!"

"Mrs. Masters, I'll ask you to refrain from profanity, please."

"Holy crap! Are you serious? That...weaselly FUCK in there went and got the cops? That...dripping PUSSY couldn't come and talk to me like a FUCKING husband is supposed to?!"

I heard Officer Blake move in the hall and Sam laid a hand on my arm when I went to go out and investigate. Catching his gaze he shook his head slowly and held me in Amber's room. Reaching over, he flipped on Amber's music box and the electronic sounds of "Twinkle Twinkle" filled the air, disguising the altercation taking place in my entranceway. He played hide the nose with Amber who sat in my arm trusting and at ease, further distracting her from the tableau inside.

"Mrs. Masters I have warned you and you have ignored my warnings. We feel that there is probable cause here and confirms what Mr. Masters filed in his complaint. Mr. Masters?" Officer Rafferty's voice called out, "would you like to file charges of domestic violence and endangering the welfare of a child against, Mrs. Masters?"

"Rick!"

This was it. My moment. Would I continue to be a victim? What would it take for her to take her violence out against me the next time? Could I really trust her around Amber anymore? Was I fooling myself all this time?

No, not anymore.

"Yes," my voice broke, and I almost sobbed. The woman I had befriended, fallen in love with, married, and shared my life with - I had just killed her with my answer. I didn't set up the situation, I didn't want it to be this way, but she had forced my hand and at this point there was no way back. "Yes, I would."

"You shit! You piece of shit! How COULD you!? I TRUSTED you! Rick!!"

From the sounds inside it was obvious some struggling was going on. I heard the Officers reader her her rights, the entire situation surreal in my mind. This was my god damned living room and they were arresting my wife! What the fuck? I heard talk about assault and disorderly conduct and then, in a strange bit of serendipity that I found suddenly fucking funny given the gravity and craziness of the situation...

I heard the sounds of handcuffs snapping closed on Elle's wrists.