“Clean it up!” he shrieks. Then he has my hair again, and slams my face into the wall. I feel an odd numbness in my nose and hear a ringing sort of sound. Everything seems far away. I realize he’s yelling at me.
“And there you sat with your tits on full display like a fuckin’ whore, sucking up every word out of his mouth. And that fuckin’ sticky mess of rice! He had to put sauce on it to even choke it down! And there you were, making sure he got a good look at your tits! You want to fuck him, don’t you!”
“N…no! No, I…”
“And then you’re so fuckin’ clumsy you set yourself on fire? It’s just a lucky fuckin’ thing you didn’t start him on fire! What a fucking disaster! You think he’s going to give me the retainer after you fucked everything up like this?”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
“You should be! You know what? I’ve had about enough of you! You’re not fit to be my wife. You’re not fit to be anyone’s wife! No one else would put up with you. And you sure as hell aren’t fit to be Jennifer’s mother. All you ever were was a brood sow and I don’t need you for that anymore. I’ll kick you out and you’ll never see Jennifer again. Better yet, one of these days we’ll go for a boat ride, and you won’t come back.”
I look over my shoulder and realize he’s taken a step or two back. He lifts his fist and I shrink away, throwing up my arms to protect my face. But the blow never comes. Instead he kicks me. I sprawl over the spilled dessert. In a moment, I hear the back door slam shut and then the car starts. He’s going somewhere, driving, as drunk as he is. I hope he doesn’t kill someone but at least this means he’ll be gone for a while.
I get to my hands and knees, then sit back on my haunches again, sobbing. There is blood on the wall where my head hit it. I gingerly touch my cheek where it’s stinging. My fingers come away red. My nose feels numb and blood streams from it. I wonder if it’s broken.
The blouse is very revealing but he wanted me to wear it. Maybe it was clumsy of me to let my sleeve catch fire but accidents happen. It’s only been two weeks since I screwed up his socks. Two weeks since he apologized profusely, swore he only did it because he lost control of his emotions, and vowed he would never do anything to hurt me again.
I wipe my face on my sleeve. Now there’s a smear of blood on the blouse. He’s never cut me before and he’s usually careful not to mark me where it would show. This is an escalation. It doesn’t matter how hard I try, I can never measure up.
I’m useless.
I have to do better.
I don’t want to lose my daughter.
Eleven
Lita
I’VE GOT MY down jacket on under my life jacket and my travel cup is filled with coffee and a generous amount of cinnamon-flavoured creamer. I thought about putting in Bailey’s instead but I have to pace myself given it looks like there’s going to be plenty of drinking going on all day today.
I took three Gravol tablets before we left home, and have the rest of the package in my pocket in case the first three wear off. I’m on one of the padded benches on the lower deck, trying to enjoy the bobbing of the boat while I watch Nullah showing Finn how to bait the hook and pull out the right amount of line to set the Deep Six where the Fish Finder shows that the fish are. Apparently, they’re deep, 200 feet, and at that depth in this area you need a Glow Chartreuse Snot Rocket Hoochie and a fluorocarbon leader and of course you want a Green Onion flasher with that. Well, naturally! I’ve heard all kinds of stuff like this before of course, and I think Finn is as impressed as I was the first time
The boat itself is pretty impressive, a 37-foot Bayliner, flying bridge, queen size bed in the master stateroom (with its own head) fore, and a guest cabin aft. There’s a very nice galley and a decent dining area, neither of which we’ll be using today. Before setting out, we decided against eating on the boat and that even if we caught a fish, we’d save it for the gathering at home later. We’re going to have an early lunch at the Dinghy Dock. This means we didn’t have to get a bunch of groceries organized to take with us, and lunch at the Dinghy Dock always gets my vote.
Nullah says he thinks he has the speed right, slow enough to troll, fast enough so we don’t catch dogfish. The lines are out and the rods are in their holders. Now it’s just sit back and wait for something to happen and hope that if we do get a hit, a seal or sea lion doesn’t steal it off the hook before we can land it.
The fishing report on the radio this morning claimed the Winchelsea Islands were hot, so that’s where we are, chugging around in a holding pattern with half a dozen other boats. The aforementioned animals can be seen up on the rocks, lazily flapping their flippers. The motor is quiet enough that we can hear them barking. Occasionally one lurches across the rocks and slips into the water. Nullah claims they’re watching us as carefully as we’re watching them, because they’ve learned a boat equals fishermen equals a chance for an easy meal. Nullah calls them lazy bastards. I call them resourceful and clever. But I do hope that if we get a fish on the line, they stay where they are. If they steal it, we’ll have to keep fishing, and the less time we have to spend on the water, the better, in my opinion, even if it means getting to the Dinghy Dock early.
“How’re you doin’, babe?” Nullah asks.
“Fine,” I tell him, and take a sip of coffee.
“She’s prone to seasickness,” Nullah tells Finn. “I think she’ll get over it if we spend enough time on the boat.”
“Not working so far,” I mutter. I know Nullah loves boating, and that last comment was maybe a little snarky. “But I’ll keep trying,” I add.
“’At’s my girl,” Nullah says as he gives my shoulder a rub and kisses the top of my head.
“How was your dinner last night?” I ask Finn after he refills his mug and slides onto the bench next to me.
“Man, the food was awesome. But I can’t say the same for the company.”
Nullah has taken the captain’s chair at the helm, and swivels to look back at us. “No?”
“The wife was sweet, but that guy! Him and I did not hit it off. What a pompous ass! Unbelievable how he patted himself on the back and ran down the other lawyers, even those in his own firm. Talk about pushy! I practically had to hip check him out of the way before he’d let me out the door. I didn’t leave, I escaped.”
“Doesn’t sound like he’s a team player,” Nullah opines.
“Definitely not,” Finn agrees. “I was wishing his wife would join the conversation more but she barely spoke two sentences. What a meal she prepared, though! Cherries Jubilee for dessert, if you can believe it. Delicious!” He takes a sip of coffee then says, “you know how you ignite the liqueur when it’s served?”
I nod. “In university I had a roommate who loved to make those flaming desserts. Cherries Jubilee, Crepes Suzette, Baked Alaska, you name it. Mostly just when we had guests of the male persuasion. Her mother drummed it into her that the way into a man’s heart is through his stomach.”
“What? Mothers teach their daughters to cook for their man?” Nullah interjects.
“My mother told me to just be myself and I’d do just fine whether I could cook or not. Turns out my talents lie in a different direction,” I glare at him.
“And I’m glad about it.”
“You are now. Wait till we’re seventy.”
“I’ll be worn out long before that.”
“No one feels sorry for you, mate,” Finn chides, and chuckles. Then he turns to me and asks, “do you like Cherries Jubilee?”
“Yeah. You?”
“First time I ever had it, hope it’s not the last! I loved it! But when she lit mine, her blouse caught fire.”
“Oh god, no! Was she hurt?”
“No, just a bit of the sleeve burned. I wrapped my napkin around her arm to smother it. Her husband just sat there. From the look on his face you would’ve thought she did it on purpose. And I had a sense that if I wasn’t there, he would’ve left her to deal with it herself.”
<
br /> “My god, Finn,” I exclaim, “good thing you knew what to do!”
“That’s me, Super Finn to the rescue! Hey, he knows you, Lita.”
“Oh, probably. It’s a small town in some ways and not all that many lawyers, you know. What’s his name?”
“He’s with Jackson and Co. Derek Wilton.”
I gasp.
He says, “I guess you know him.”
“Yes. Very well.”
“And another guess? You don’t like him.”
So many things I could say about Derek, none good, and none that relate to his suitability for what Nullah and Finn need. Finally I say, “I really haven’t heard anything about his work, but his character? I wouldn’t recommend him even if he was the last lawyer in the world.” Unprofessional of me, I know. But then, we’re all friends here.
“He’s a guy she used to date,” Nullah explains, “and Carly was her roommate.”
“Ahh! The roommate who made the flaming desserts!”
“I thought Nullah said your Toronto lawyers had short-listed some lawyers for you. If they put Derek’s name forward, they must’ve heard good things about him.”
“They recommended the firm. I had a meeting with a senior partner plus Derek and another junior. When I was leaving, Derek followed me to the door and invited me to dinner. He looks good as suits go and was well-spoken during our meeting, and walking me out? A dinner invite? I thought wow, he’s a go-getter, maybe someone like that is a good guy to have working for you. But all the bragging! It’s too bad I had dinner with him. Would’ve liked him if I hadn’t.” Finn clicks his tongue, shrugs and says “well, he’s hard to like, but he’s one of the best qualified guys on the list and we wouldn’t actually spend much time with him. I think we should go ahead and have him vetted.”
“Sure thing,” Nullah agrees.
Just then the line on the rod nearest Finn goes zinging out and both men jump to their feet. Nullah cuts the engine, pulls the rod out of the holder and hands it to Finn. “Okay. Keep the tip up so the line stays tight!”
Twelve
Carly
MY NOSE AND the cut on my cheek stopped bleeding last night but my nose is really swollen and painful and I can’t breathe through it. Besides that, I was afraid the cut was going to leave a scar, so I wanted to go the clinic. Derek insisted on taking me. He’s in the examining room with me, waiting in a chair at the foot of the table while the doctor is checking me out.
“Yes, you’re right, this laceration is going to need closing,” she says. “And you have a nasal fracture too. How did this happen?”
Derek says, “I opened the bathroom door as she was coming out. She walked right into it! Poor girl! I need to be more careful.” He reaches for my hand and looks at me with such a sincerely concerned expression anyone would think he meant it. “I’m so sorry, honey! My fault! Completely my fault!” His voice catches in a sob.
The doctor studies him for a moment, then asks, “this is going to take a while. Have you got anything else you need to do this morning, Mr. Wilton?”
“No, I just want to be here for her.”
“I’ll need to put her in another operatory. I’ll ask you to go and wait in the waiting room, then.”
“I’d really like to stay with her.”
“I know, but there isn’t room for her, my assistant and me, and you. Don’t worry. She’s in good hands.”
“Okay then,” Derek agrees. He squeezes my hand and leans in front of Doctor Evans to kiss my temple. “I’ll be waiting right outside, sweetheart,” he says, and leaves.
“I’ll see you when we’re set up in the operatory,” Doctor Evans tells me, and follows him out.
In a few minutes, one of the receptionists comes to take me to a different room. I follow her out and through a maze of hallways to a larger room that has the examination table in the middle instead of up against the wall. “You can just hop up here,” she tells me as she pats the paper sheet on padded table. “Doctor Evans will be with you in a few minutes.”
I look around, wondering how Doctor Evans thought there wouldn’t be enough room for Derek to come in here with us. A nurse comes in with a tray, sets it on a stand on the far side of the table and says, “hello. Had a bit of trouble, did you?”
A bit of trouble? You could say that. “Umm, yeah,” I respond.
She raises the end section of the table and says, “put your feet up and lean back here. Doctor Evans will just be a minute.”
I do as she directs. She busies herself getting something out of the cabinets behind me, and then Doctor Evans comes in.
“Okay, Carly,” Doctor Evans says, “I’m going to put a little freezing in your nose. It’s out of alignment and we don’t want you left with a crooked nose, so I’m going to straighten it, and it will need a splint as well as some packing. It’s not a pleasant procedure, but once you’re frozen at least it won’t hurt. The spray, please Ashley?”
The nurse hands her the spray and Doctor Evans says, “this will feel a little funny.” She sprays the medication into both nostrils, then hands the syringe back to the nurse. “Now then, this lac. I think it’ll be best to close it with glue. We’ll let your nose freeze while I do that.” She works on cleaning the cut, then gluing it and gently pressing the edges together for the short time the glue takes to set.
“Now, no scratching or rubbing at this, and don’t put a plaster over it. The glue should peel off in five or six days. Long before those black eyes have faded. There will be a scar, but it should be minor and will likely fade completely away in a few months.”
Then she sets to work on my nose, asking Ashley for something called a nasal speculum, and filling my nostrils with packing. “That has to stay in place for a few days,” she tells me. “You’ll be a mouth breather for a while, I’m afraid.” She grins and gives my shoulder a reassuring rub. She’s just putting the large adhesive patch in place over the bridge of my nose when two women come into the room.
The older of the two women holds up a badge and says, “Hi, Carly. I’m Detective Brennan. You can call me Doreen. And this is my partner, Detective Angela Weston.”
“Oh…”
“We’re here at the request of Doctor Evans. Your medical records show you’ve had a lot of injuries in the past few years. She’s concerned, so she asked us to come and talk to you.”
Doctor Evans steps away and tells me, “you can sit up now.”
I sit up, swallowing hard as my stomach clenches. I don’t know what to say. If I tell them Derek did this to me, what will they do? Arrest him? It would only make it worse when he got out.
“Have you talked to my husband?” I ask.
“Not yet.”
“Please don’t. I’m fine. He had nothing to do with this. I’m just accident prone.”
Detective Brennan is staring at me so intensely I have to look away. Finally she says, “If your husband is hurting you, he won’t stop, Carly. He’ll promise to stop, all right, they always do. He’ll tell you that he loves you like no one else ever could, that he’ll never hurt you again. That he just lost control. But it’s not about him losing control, it’s about him being in control. Controlling you. There will always be a next time. We can take you to the women’s shelter right now, today, if you want us to. There’s support there—”
“But my daughter!”
“She’s at home, is she?”
I nod. “Yes. But it’s okay. We hardly ever leave her alone and she’s very capable…she’s ten. She’s okay to stay home alone for a bit.”
“Yes, of course. But we can go and get her.”
I take several deep breaths, wondering what to do. Remembering Derek’s threats that I would never be able to see Jennifer again if he kicked me out. What if I kicked him out? Would he go? Could I lock him out of the house? Would he wait until Jennifer left to go to school, pick her up on her way to the bus stop and take her to his mother in Phoenix? Maybe not right away, but sometime? She already has a passport. He could
be across the border with her before I even realized she wasn’t in school. Before they could even issue an Amber Alert. She’s always liked going there. She might be happy to stay! I can’t risk it. I shake my head slowly. “No.”
“There is legal help available to you. And they can get him into anger management counselling so he—”
“He’s not hurting me,” I say. “He didn’t do this. I walked into the bedroom door.”
Detective Brennan stands quietly, just studying me, and after a moment says, “all right, then. Here’s my card. You can call me any time. I mean any time, Carly.” The detectives exchange knowing looks with Doctor Evans, and leave.
Doctor Evans looks at me, then pulls off her gloves, drops them in the trash, and comes back to face me again. She puts a hand on my forearm and says, “your husband said it was the bathroom door you walked into, Carly.”
“I meant bathroom. The door from our bedroom into the bathroom.”
“They can help you, you know. I can help you, Carly.”
I shake my head and fight off tears.
“Okay,” she says, and sighs. “The packing will need to come out in a few days, as I said. You can come to the drop-in clinic, or make an appointment.” She’s biting her lip as she pats my arm, then turns and leaves the room.
I compose myself before I slide down off the table, nod to Ashley, and leave.
Through the waiting room windows I see Derek pacing back and forth on the sidewalk outside. When he sees me come out, he hurries to me and engulfs me in a hug. I have no urge to hug him back and let my arms hang at my sides.
He releases me and takes my hand to lead me to the car. “Don’t you look a sight with those black eyes and that big fuckin’ patch on your nose!” He goes to the passenger door and opens it for me. “You won’t be going anywhere for a while.”
“I have to shop,” I tell him as I get in my seat and buckle up.
“Nope! I’ll do the shopping.” He closes my door, goes around to the driver’s side, and gets behind the wheel. He buckles up and starts the engine, but before shifting into gear, he reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry, honey. You know I love you! I would never have hurt you if I hadn’t had so much to drink. I saw how he was looking at you, and I lost control! I know you’re attractive to other men, and I know you can’t help but look back. It’s only natural.”
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