40 Something - Safety

by Shannon Peel

  “You don’t?”

  “I met her a few months ago, we hit it off and now we’re bffs. Here’s the first room, what do you think?”

  The room is a decent size with windows looking down on the building next door. The other room is beside it and is identical. Both rooms have double beds and a dresser with simple elegant furnishings.

  “Mom. This is like a hotel.” Wyatt says.

  “I know.”

  “It even comes with weekly maid service.” Lindsay says.

  “I’ll clean. You don’t have to clean up after the kids and I.”

  “I don’t clean. I have a cleaning service for that.”

  “I could do it for you, that way you don’t have to pay them.”

  “Where’s the fun in that? Come on Sophie, enjoy the labours of my ex and all his money.”

  “Well, the kids and I will do what we can to help. Won’t we you two?”

  “Yes. Mom.”

  “So, Wyatt and Olivia who gets which room?” Lindsay asks.

  She’s bent over to look them directly in the eye and is glowing with excitement. They are all excited. I feel only dread. What is this going to cost me?

  “I want this one.” Wyatt says.

  They figure out who gets what room and help me to bring up the boxes and suitcases to put their stuff away.

  “Sophie. Your room is upstairs, come see.”

  “My room? I can sleep on the couch, I’m fine.”

  “Hell no. You need your privacy young lady. Come on.” I follow Lindsay up a glass staircase, I’m gonna have to crawl down it. “It’s not really a bedroom, it’s an office but what do I need an office for? It’s all yours.”

  Some office, it’s gorgeous. A view of the bay, plush white carpets, ebony bookcases filled with books, chairs, and a large ebony desk with a computer. This is a dream.

  “All this will be gone by tonight and you’ll have a bed to sleep on. It’s all been arranged.”

  “Why?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Why are you doing this? You don’t know me. You don’t know my kids. Why are you being so kind?”

  “I don’t know. You seemed like a nice person who just needed some help. I can help.”

  “It’s only for a little while, until I can find somewhere. I’ll start looking right away. We won’t be here long.”

  “No hurry.” Her phone rings. “Ah pizza is here.”

  Rose

  Gus and Gary are packing Sophie’s couch into the moving van while mom, Justine and I pack up the boxes. Sophie doesn’t have much so we should be done in a few hours. It would have been quicker if Charlene had taken the day off work to help. If Charlene had just stayed then Sophie would be here and this would get done that much faster. At least Lindsay left right away, there are always blessings when you look hard enough.

  It really doesn’t make any sense why Sophie can’t stay at our house. We would have made things work. It would be much easier for her to stay here in town instead of dragging her kids downtown, where it isn’t safe. How can anyone think that the city is a place to raise kids. Poor Davie. He has to stay inside all the time because it’s too dangerous for him to run around with friends. The city is not a place to raise a kid. It’s not family friendly. As soon as things get settled here I’ll talk to Sophie and we’ll get her settled in to our place. Where it’s safer. We shouldn’t have listened to Charlene last night.

  As usual, she took over, told everyone what to do. Then left early this morning before anyone woke up. Leaving me to do the work, making things harder for me, first, by taking mom and dad away from me and now Sophie. That’s my big sister for you, always telling everyone what to do and never helping out. Well enough. Sophie is my friend and I can help her without Charlene.

  “I don’t understand. Why we are doing this.” My mom says. “You shouldn’t get involved in other peoples problems, it only causes you drama and trouble.”

  “Mom, Sophie needs help and she’s a friend.”

  “Someone you’ve known for what? A couple of months? You have no idea what kind of woman she is. I’m just thankful that Lindsay woman took her. I can’t believe you’d even entertained the idea of putting her and her kids up. Nothing but trouble if you ask me.”

  “I didn’t ask you mom. It’s the Christian thing to do.”

  “I am sure God would have been just as happy if you’d help her find a shelter and she could have hired someone to do this.”

  “She has no money.”

  “Well. The church has people to do this. Trained people. For a donation they’d have moved her. You didn’t need to take it upon yourself.”

  “No one made you come mom. If you want I’m sure Justine could drive you and dad back to the house.”

  “Your father better not be helping those boys with that couch. His heart.”

  “My heart is just fine. Stop worrying. You’re always worrying.”

  “Of course I worry, what would I do with your body if you keeled over?”

  “I’m sure you will think of something.” He gives mom a little squeeze. “So how’s it going in here girls?”

  “Good daddy. We almost have the bedrooms emptied, then all that’s left is the bathroom and the kitchen.”

  “Sounds like you have it all under control. The boys and I are going to go unload the truck.”

  “Howard. Your heart.” My mom says.

  “Stop your worrying. I’m the foreman. I just stand around and give orders.” He winks at me.

  We get the bathroom packed up in record time. It’s 2:00 when we finally finish packing up the kitchen. She really doesn’t have that much stuff.

  “I have to run and get the kids from school. Will you be OK ‘til I get back Rose?” Justine ask me.

  “Of course. Thank you so much for all your help.”

  Good dependable Justine. She should have been my sister for real instead of Charlene and Grace. I’m just thankful that Gary married her and they live so close. I don’t know what I’d do without her.

  “Justine dear can you give me a ride back to Rose’s place?”

  “You’re abandoning me too mom?”

  “You’re pretty much done here.”

  “What the Fuck?” A male voice comes from the door. “Where is my wife?” It’s Craig.

  “Your wife?” I ask.

  He looks at me and Justine silently assessing us, as if he’s trying to remember where he knows us from.

  “Your wife is –“ My mom starts and I pull at her to stop her from saying anything.

  “I remember you two. You were at the pub and the police station last night.”

  “Yes we were.” I stand tall.

  “You were the one who told the cops to arrest me. Where do you get off you fat bitch?”

  I’m caught off guard by the remark. How dare he call me that? Now I’m angry.

  “Listen here, you had no right to pull Sophie out like that, embarrassing her and bruising her arm.”

  He moves towards us. Anger is dripping off him. His fists are balled up and his eyes are full of raw rage. I step back. He steps forward.

  “She’s my wife. I have every right. You stupid fat bitch whore. Where the fuck is Sophie. My wife. Where is she?”

  He’s vibrating he’s so angry. I stand up straighter. Taller. Call me names? How dare he? Where does he get off? I can get angry too.

  “Sophie is safe, safe from the likes of you. She’s your ex-wife.”

  “She is still my wife. Mine. I want her and my kids here, now.”

  His hand goes up and I step back some more. Justine and my mom have stepped back too. He glares at me.

  “You better leave or I’ll call the police.” I say.

  “Call ‘em. In fact I’m gonna call ‘em and tell ‘em you kidnapped my wife, my kids and are stealing all our things.”

  He pulls out his phone and starts to dial.

  “I wouldn’t do that.” Gary is behind him. “Unless you want to go back to jail.”


  Craig whips around the shock and surprise evident on his face. It takes him a moment to recover before he starts to dial again.

  “Rose, call Charlene and ask her if that restraining order has been issued yet.” Gary says.

  I pull out my phone and start dialling my sister.

  “Who are –“ Craig starts.

  “Call the cops if you want. Why don’t you come outside, with my brother and I, to wait for them?”

  “Fine. I’m leaving. You tell my WIFE, to call me. I want to see my kids.”

  “Call her lawyer.” Gary says in a calm voice.

  Craig leaves, staying as far away from Gary and Gus as he can. My man is standing there looking big and mean. I run to him and his arms wrap around me, protecting me. I love him so much. I don’t want to let go. I didn’t realize how scared I was until I am safe in his arms, shaking.

  “See what happens when you get involved.” My mom says.

  Charlie

  I’m tired. My eyes are dry and itchy. I just want to lie down and close them. Never open them again. I have too much to do though. I didn’t sleep very well at Rose’s place last night. I kept thinking about all the things I needed to do. In the end, I decided to get up extra early and grab a cab to the train station. How do people commute every day? What a waste of time.

  Getting Davie up and moving that early was nearly impossible. At one point I considered leaving him there. He was so slow I was sure I’d be late. By the time we got into the cab I was seething with frustration and ready to strangle the kid.

  We made it, barely.

  Everyone on the train looked like they were trying not to fall asleep. The motion of the train lulled me to slumber a couple of times, each time a shock of electricity ran through my head and jolted me awake. I really hate that. When you are so tired your body is desperate to sleep, but you can’t, so you’re brain shocks you awake. It fuckin hurts.

  People really do this every day?

  Get up extra early. Get on a train. And travel almost an hour into the downtown core. For what? A house? A plot of land that they have to mow? A place for their kids to run around in perceived safety? It’s laughable. Their kids are in just as much danger out there as they are in the city. Drugs, gangs, and accidents are everywhere.

  By the time I got home, got presentable, got Davie to school, me to the office, I’d been up for three hours. With very little coffee in my system, by the way.

  I’m tired. So tired.

  “Hey Charlie, looks like you had a fun time last night.”

  Doug, one of the lawyers at the firm I’m with, is standing in the coffee room talking with a couple of the young paralegals. He’s always hitting on the paralegals. No one ever hits on me. I look down at myself. Men are such assholes. You have to be pretty and young for them to take notice of you. “Charlie, are you OK?”

  He’s standing closer to me now. I look at him. He’s a good looking guy. About 50 years old. Still has his blonde hair, which he keeps short in a mad men haircut. Well built. Looks great in a suit. Why is he still in a suit? My eyes wonder down his body as I try to imagine what he looks like beneath the dark blue material.

  “Charlie.”

  I look up into his blue eyes. I never noticed his blue eyes before. He looks confused. Concerned? Why? What?

  “Charlie. Here have a sit and let’s get some coffee in you.”

  “Coffee. Yes Coffee.”

  I sit down at the table. Cross my arms on it and put my head down, just for a minute. Just a minute.

  “Charlie. Charlie. Wake up.”

  Fuck Doug. Screw off. I open my eyes. They focus. Shit it isn’t Doug. It’s my legal assistant Kari.

  “What?”

  “You fell asleep. You’re 9:30 is here.”

  Nothing like instant panic to wake a girl up.

  My day is a blur of meetings, law, letters, and email. The joys of being a lawyer, it’s not all court rooms and arguments, mostly I write letters, fill out forms, and put together offers. A few times a week I field calls from clients and put out fires. Divorces are messy and emotional. Managing my client’s fears and protecting their interests is a big part of the job.

  I drag my ass all day. There isn’t enough coffee in the world to kick start my energy levels. I’m cursing my sister, her friend, and the train for my crappy day. I finally get time to go to the washroom in the late afternoon. That’s how busy my day is, I can’t even take a piss.

  Fuck.

  I got my fucking period. No wonder, I’m pulling a ten tonne ball of lead around with me. Fuck. I hate this time of the month. Can’t fucking stand it. I’m always so tired, irritable, and short tempered. Not to mention the cramps and the mess on heavy months. If I have to get this stupid curse of life, why can’t it be only on weekends when I can sit around in my jammies with a hot water bottle, a book, and some tea all day?

  I can’t even take off early because I have Shelly Granger’s divorce proceedings to prep for. Why God? Why? Haven’t women suffered long enough for that damn apple?

  “It’s your son’s school, on line 1.” Kari says as I walk into my office.

  “Hello, Charlie speaking, how can I help you today?”

  “Ms. Reed-Reynolds this is Mr. Bradshaw from –“

  “Hello Mr. Bradshaw what can I do for you?”

  “Well, Davie isn’t feeling very well. Wondering if you can come get him?”

  “I can’t right this moment. Can he lie down in the sick room until I can get someone to pick him up?”

  “If you could let us know when he can be picked up.”

  “Thanks.”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckedy fuck fuck.

  Mom and Dad are still at Rose’s house. Shit. OK Charlie take a breath. In and out. That’s it. I look at the pile of work on my desk and sigh. Kid or work? I pick up the phone and dial the one number I hate to dial.

  “Hello.”

  “David, it’s Charlie.” My cheating asshole of an ex-husband.

  “What do you want Charlie?”

  “It’s Davie. He’s not feeling good. Are you busy right now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Doing what?”

  “It’s not my week Charlie - it’s yours. You figure it out. Here’s an idea, put your kid before your work.”

  “I –“

  He hung up.

  Well that actually went better than I thought it would. When a man cheats on his divorce attorney wife, you’d think he’d expect to get hosed in the deal. He’s mad because I screwed him over. He was the one who wanted to stick his little weenie in some bimbo’s ass. Well, by the time I was done with him he knew what it felt like to get it up the ass all right. Fucking loser.

  I am vibrating.

  My skin feels tight and itchy.

  I want to peel my skin off.

  I hate feeling like this. I hate him. I hate my sister. I hate her friend. I hate my son. I hate my job. I hate life. I may be taking this whole hate thing a bit too far. Still. At the moment, I hate everything. I scream in frustration. It doesn’t work. I scream again. Yeah nothing. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “Charlie?” Kari pokes her head in, very reluctantly by the looks of it.

  “What?” I can hear the venom and I breath. “Sorry, what can I do for you?”

  “Ah. Mr. Jenner wants to talk to you.”

  “Shut. The. Door.” I say through clenched teeth.

  I walk to the couch in my office, grab a throw pillow, put it up to my face and scream as loud as possible.

  “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK”

  Mr. Jenner. The big boss. The Senior of all Senior Partners. The guy looks like he past retirement age 20 years ago. I sit down in the chair across the desk from him and feel very small. Insignificant. Paranoid. Why am I here? I’m too far down the ladder to matter to Mr. Jenner.

  “Ms. Reed-Reynolds, how are you today?”

  “Good sir.”

  “I heard you fell asleep in the coffee room this morning.”

  I gri
t my teeth. Doug. I’m certain of it. He would sell his first born to get ahead, if he had one. The guy’s never been married and no kids he knows of. Thank God, he’d be a terrible father.

  “Uhm. Yes sir. Was with a new client at the police station last night and didn’t get much sleep.”

  “A new client?”

  “A potential new client. I just met her last night, had her husband arrested.”

  “Well there’s a good start.”

  “I apologize for nodding off, it was only for a few minutes and I’ve drunk a pot of coffee and have been firing on all cylinders since.”

  “Yes, I find cat naps to be very refreshing. Makes one more productive.”

  I smile, kind of. What can he do? Slap my hand and make life a bit miserable for me for a short time?

  “I nap every day on my couch there. Even keep a blanket in the closet. I wouldn’t be able to get anything done without a good 30-minute shuteye. Glad to see you are working hard. How is your son?”

  “My son? Ah. Good. He’s at school. I have him this week, but he’s quite independent, takes care of himself most of the time. Very good boy. Hardly needs anything from me.”

  “Good to hear. Must be tough, all your long hours, on the boy.”

  “No. No. He’s good. We spend quality time together. It’s about the quality of the time not the quantity. He understands that work is important and that I have to work.”

  It’s like I’m talking to my father, who mind you is probably 15 years younger than Mr. Jenner. What is it with old men? Can’t they see the world has changed? Women can have it all. Careers, children, relationships. We can have it all. The thought exhausts me.

  “If you say so. Just want to make sure you can manage everything.” He says.

  “I can. I fell asleep once. In 14 years with this firm I have always been on time, ready to work, professional, and I bring in consistent billable hours. It was once and because I was with a prospective client most of the night. Most of the guys here come in so hung over every week that they can barely function. It was 20 minutes. If you want me to leave the firm why don’t you --”