Connie rerouted the phones back to the office. Headquarters had a silly rule that regardless if the agent was available to his customers via his cell phone, all office phones must be forwarded to the headquarters’ call center after hours.
She headed to Eric’s office, but as she peeked around the corner realized it was empty. Until a few months ago, Eric was the first one here in the morning and the last one to leave at night. She turned on the light in his office and wondered if he would make it in today. Suddenly, Connie remembered she needed to buy stamps to send out notices to remind their clients to come in for the annual review of their policies. Most clients received their notices through emails or texts, but a select group of clients needed “snail” mail invitations. It was worth the effort; those particular clients were the ones most likely inclined to increase their existing policies and buy new ones. She would have to wait until Katie came in to answer the phones before she ran down to the post office.
Opening a small safe in Eric’s office to get money from the petty cash box, she was shocked to discover it was empty. Well, not too surprising. Eric hadn’t been his usual efficient self, he had been letting things slide, customer calls not returned, very few calls soliciting new business, and he seemed totally disinterested in the insurance business. Six months ago Eric’s agency always exceeded the company’s quota for policies sold. The last three months he hadn’t even sold the minimum expectation required.
The phone rang as she walked back to her desk. It was the main office of their insurance company. Answering the phone, she was startled to hear the voice of Joseph Zeigler, the Vice President of accounting.
“Hello Mr. Zeigler, this is Connie Trimble.”
“Hi, Connie. Is Eric in?”
“Not yet, I think he was stopping at a client’s house before coming into the office,” Connie fibbed. “Can I have him return your call when he gets here?”
“Connie, is something going on with Eric? Your numbers have never been this bad, your sales are terrible, and there have been very few increases in renewal policies. What’s going on? Eric has always been an exceptionally good salesperson.”
“Mr. Zeigler, I think it’s just been a rough patch. You know people are working on their income taxes and still paying bills they incurred during the Christmas season. I believe that next month is going to be a record month,” Connie crossed her fingers as she told the main boss a piece of fiction. Connie knew there was something terribly wrong with Eric and she also suspected he was taking money from petty cash and siphoning cash from their supply account.
“Hum, I noticed that you are usually audited in late May or early June,” asked Mr. Zeigler. “Is that correct?”
Connie’s heart started to beat faster. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll talk to you later. Have Eric call me when he comes in.”
Connie had a feeling that the main corporation was going to spring a surprise audit on their office. Deep inside, she had a feeling that would be a disaster.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
A Decisive Incident
April 5, 2017
Charlotte was worried about Aaron. He had three important articles for three different periodicals with very close deadlines. He was working nonstop, not sleeping, and not eating. He was becoming short-tempered, testy, and moody. She tried to stay out of his way.
On Wednesday, Charlotte came home early from her office and the apartment was empty. Aaron wasn’t there. The apartment was usually kept spotless, but it was now in disarray. She started picking up items that were strewn throughout the rooms. Most of them were Aaron’s things. Hannah, their cleaning maid, came once a week to change the sheets, wash the towels, and scrub everything ultraclean. Hannah was coming tomorrow, so Charlotte put miscellaneous clothing and towels in the hamper and glasses and dirty dishes in the dishwasher. After straightening up, she decided to take a shower, still wondering what was keeping Aaron. She checked her phone. Nothing—no texts, no messages, no emails. Very unlike Aaron, he always let her know where he was and when he would be home. A flash of fear swept haunted her thoughts; I hope he hasn’t been in an accident.
Aaron walked in the door, as Charlotte walked out of the bedroom in her pajamas with a towel wrapped around her freshly washed and conditioned hair. She looked closer at Aaron. He wasn’t happy.
“Hello, darling,” she smiled. “I was getting worried about….”
“Charley, this place looks like crap. Is it too much to ask for you to pick things up?”
“I did,” she protested. “I picked things up, but Hannah is coming tomorrow, so I didn’t do much actual cleaning. I can, if it would make you feel better?”
Aaron sat down on the expensive sofa and held his head. “I’ve had such a crappy day. The story I was writing for the Times was rejected. The editor felt it was too risky and possibly libel. I explained that I had done all the research and the story was true. I had proof of all the fact, but he was afraid of repercussions from the senator’s wealthy family.”
Charlotte sat next to Aaron and put her arm around him. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. Can I make you some dinner?” He smelled of beer.
“Nay, I had something to eat at The Blue Fin.”
“Aaron, I’m going to comb out my hair and blow it dry. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes to talk to you.”
A look of anger flashed across Aaron’s face as he grabbed Charlotte’s wrist, “Why can’t I get your full attention when I need it? You always leave when I want to talk to you.”
“I’m sorry,” a shaken Charlotte began as she sat down again. “I can stay, and we can talk.”
“You do nothing but take from me just like everyone else. Those editors at the Times, the Post, the magazines, and all the rest of them, disregard the time and effort that goes into each one of my pieces. When they love my articles, they love me. They find the tiniest discord or a minuscule possibility of a slander suit and they toss me like yesterday’s newspaper. Can you understand?”
“Aaron, I’m sure you are tired and things seem worse than they actually are. Everything will look better tomorrow after a good night’s sleep.” Charlotte stood up and started to walk back to the bedroom.
“Stop,” Aaron commanded.
Charlotte stood still.
“You aren’t listening to me.” He pulled the towel off her head and threw it on the couch. He then grabbed her wet hair and wrapped it around his fist pulling and twisting it tighter and tighter. Tears came to her eyes.
“Aaron, please don’t.” begged Charlotte. “Let go of me and please just calm down.”
Her pleading infuriated him. He clenched his grip even tighter and the pain spread throughout her scalp. Suddenly, he untwisted his hand and let go. Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief, and she started to walk back into the bedroom.
Aaron came up behind her and spun her around to face him. “You don’t even begin to appreciate everything I’ve done for you, do you? You are just like all those stupid editors. You take and take and take, but never give back.”
“What do you mean?” shouted Charlotte. “I gave up custody of my precious daughter to stay with you because you made me choose. How much more can a mother give up?”
She didn’t see his raised hand until it smashed into her face. The first blow was a shock, but the ones that followed put her into a daze and she started praying the pain would stop. Aaron then took her head and pounded it into the wood floor. Charlotte lost conscious.
The next morning, Charlotte woke up in their bed naked. Her whole body ached, and her head was pounding with the worst headache she had ever felt. Struggling to pull herself up to a sitting position, she saw Aaron sitting in the chair in their bedroom. She tried to get out of bed, when Aaron flew out of the chair.
“Charley, I’m so sorry,” he said as he reached for her.
Charlotte straightened both of her arms out against him not allowing him to come any closer. “Aaron, an apology isn’t going to do it this time. You hurt
me. You really hurt me badly. I thought I was going to die.”
Aaron backed away, “Okay, okay. Why don’t you take a shower, and I’ll get you some coffee and we can talk and figure out what I need to do. I can’t lose you.”
Charlotte walked into the bathroom, turned on the light, and was shocked at what she saw. There was blood in her hair, and as she felt her scalp, there was a good-sized bump on the back on her head. The skin around her eyes was bruised and slowly turning dark; there were red marks on her face where Aaron had hit her. If she called the police right now, he would be arrested for battery.
Turning on the shower, she heard Aaron’s cell phone ring and the television being turned on.
Staying in the shower and just letting the warm water run over her bruised and battered body made it feel better, but the nauseated, depressed feeling in her stomach escalated as she thought of about what steps she would need to take to protect herself.
Charlotte opened the bathroom door wrapped in the heavy luxurious robe, one of the many gifts that Aaron had bought her last Christmas. Aaron rushed to her with a steaming cup of coffee. He had changed the sheets and put clean ones on the bed. He gently helped Charlotte into the bed.
“Charley, watch the news. That senator in my article was just arrested for abusing his wife. The Times just texted me and want me to stop by the offices ASAP. I think they are going to run my story.”
Charlotte looked at him in disbelief. He didn’t get the irony.
“Listen, I tried to call Hannah to cancel her for today, but she didn’t answer her phone, she might be on her way. I’ll put our dirty sheets and towels outside the door and tell her you are sick and not to go into our bedroom to clean.” Aaron suddenly stopped and noticed the look on Charlotte’s face. “Charley, please forgive me. I promise this will never happen again. We can go to counseling or whatever you feel is necessary. Please don’t leave me. I can’t live without you.”
The doorbell rang.
“That must be Hannah,” Aaron said as he rushed out of the room and shut the bedroom door behind him.
Charlotte could hear conversation between Aaron and Hannah, but couldn’t make out the words. After several minutes, she heard Aaron’s footsteps coming back. She didn’t know how she felt. She would call in sick today and try to figure out her next step.
“Charley, Hannah said she wouldn’t disturb you today. I called your office and talked to Donna, I told her you tripped and fell down some stairs carrying up groceries and wouldn’t be in today. I’m making you some toast and I’ll refill your coffee. You’ll be okay won’t you?”
“Aaron,” Charlotte looked at him with repugnance. “I’m not sure if I will ever be okay again.”
After eating a little toast, Charlotte fell asleep and woke when she heard the vacuum cleaner running. She got up and opened the bedroom door to peek out. Hannah saw her.
“Miss Charlotte,” Hannah asked. “I’m so sorry you aren’t feeling….”
She stopped in midsentence.
“What happened? Were you mugged?” she asked with her hand over her mouth.
“No,” Charlotte half-laughed. “I fell in the shower.”
Hannah looked at this beaten woman. “Miss Charlotte, would you like me to call someone for you? I can call the police.”
“No, I just fell,” Charlotte said, as she looked at this lovely, young girl who worked as their maid. She had often wondered why she took this job. She was smart, efficient, and dependable. She could get a better job, an easier job than cleaning other people’s houses.
Charlotte shut the door and crawled back into bed. After a few moments, the door opened and Hannah walked in with some frozen peas, a bowl of yellowish stuff, and cucumber slices. First, she gave Charlotte two Motrin pills and a glass of water.
“Do you mind if I help you feel better?” Hannah asked.
“If you can make me feel better, I will insist Aaron give you a raise.”
Hannah sat on the side of the bed. She wiped Charlotte’s face with a damp washrag and dried it with a clean towel. She spread a mixture of something that smelled of honey and lemon all over her face, and put the package of frozen peas on her eyes.
“This will reduce the redness and swelling,” explained the young girl.
“It does feel good,” Charlotte said. “Thank you.”
After taking off the mask and rewashing her face, Hannah placed the cucumber slices on Charlotte’s eyes and stood up.
“I’m going back to finish cleaning the apartment,” Hannah explained. “Lay back and when I return and we can talk.”
“Hannah, how did you ever get into the cleaning business?” Charlotte asked as she grabbed her hand. “You should have gone into the medical field.”
“Actually, my mother was a spotless homemaker. People would walk in and were amazed at the ambience of our beautiful and clean home. I learned everything from her. When my brother and I were in school, she worked for a couple of wealthy ladies two days a week to help supplement my father’s income. Friends of those two ladies constantly begged her to work for them and clean their houses, but she declined. My mother was active in the PTA and our school activities, she didn’t want to work fulltime.”
“My mother,” continued Hannah chocking slightly. “My mother died of cancer when I was seventeen, so I took over cleaning the apartments for her two customers. It gave me a sense of peace, working where my mother had worked and a nice bit of money. You know wealthy people pay a lot more for good service.”
“I can imagine,” a somber Charlotte said as she held Hannah’s hand. “My mother died when I was twenty. I’ve never gotten over it and I regret I gave my mother such a tough time when I was a teenager.”
Hannah held on to Charlotte’s hand tightly. “Then you understand what a life defining moment it is to lose your mother.”
Hannah walked out shutting the door behind her. Charlotte relaxed a little and thought about what she would do next. She suddenly realized she was afraid of Aaron. She loved her glamorous life in New York, but was it worth her safety? She had saved some money in her savings account and she knew her father would help her move back to Phoenix. She would have to find a job, a place to live, and a car. After she gave up full custody of Ashley, the judge demanded she pay child support to Christopher. Since her beloved classic silver Prius was in both their names, she allowed Christopher to sell it for the portion of what she owed for back child support. She never thought she would need a car again.
The Motrin started to work and Charlotte fell back asleep.
Soon the door opened and Hannah walked back into the room. Charlotte was surprised that she was feeling better.
Hannah pulled a chair over to the bed. “Until about two years ago, I was a Social Worker. Yes, I graduated from college with a Masters and all kinds of honors, and I wanted to help people make their lives better. You wouldn’t believe what I saw on that job. Abuse of spouses, abuse of children, hatred, pity, and anger—so much anger that one day I realized I couldn’t do the job anymore.”
Charlotte was interested in Hannah’s story, “So you went back to cleaning other people’s houses?”
Hannah laughed, “I continued cleaning my mother’s clients’ homes while I was in college. I’ve always liked cleaning and discovered it was a great way to make money on my time schedule. It paid my way through college—no student debt. Of course, when I decided to do it full time, one wealthy person gave my name to another wealthy person. Now I’m doing it to go back to college to acquire my credential as a guidance counselor for junior high students. I’m hoping to help kids before they become dysfunctional, abusive adults.”
Hannah grabbed Charlotte’s hand and looked at her.
“You know one of my clients lives in the apartment building where Aaron’s family lives.”
“Really,” Charlotte looked at her benefactor. “My grandparents lived in that building a long time ago.”
Hannah picked up Charlotte’s phone that was laying
on the nightstand. Under “contacts” she put in her cellphone number. She held it up for Charlotte to see.
“This is my number, I listed my name as ‘Harriet—Nails.’ You lived in Arizona didn’t you before you moved to New York?”
“Yes,” Charlotte said as she took back her phone. “My sister, father, and daughter still live there—in Tempe, a suburb of Phoenix.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you had a daughter, how old is she?”
“She’s seven and my ex-husband has custody of her.”
“Charlotte,” Hannah began slowly and carefully. “You need to seriously think about moving back to Phoenix. I live in Brooklyn with my father and brother. If—when—you decide to leave Aaron, call me because you are welcome to stay with me until you decide to go back home.”
Hannah got up and placed the chair back in the corner. She bent down and hugged Charlotte and started to walk out the door when she turned around and said.
“Charlotte. Never allow a man to hit you, not even once. You must leave.” Hannah frowned and continued, “somehow, I don’t think this is the first time Aaron has hit you.”
Charlotte cringed as she again thought about her own mother’s wise words.
Charlotte got up and made the bed. Looking at her face, the bruises were purple and the swelling had increased. At first, she was going to put on her make-up, but decided she wanted Aaron to see the full extent of his beating. She also decided that she was going to work tomorrow. She had seen enough CSI and 48 Hours shows to know that she needed witnesses to see her bruises if she later decided to file charges. She wouldn’t admit to her coworkers that she had been hit, but she wouldn’t deny it either. She went into the kitchen and fixed some tomato soup and a grilled-cheese sandwich. Comfort food. When she and Ashley lived alone, that was their favorite dinner. Comfort food.
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