Striving for Acceptance

by B. L. Mooney

  I stormed over to Maria and took the knife from her. I went to the kitchen to do the only thing that calmed me. I finished chopping her onion. “I can’t believe you two.”

  “I’m sorry, Mick. When Maria told me, I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you’d be mad at Deb for not telling you.”

  I checked the heat on the pan before throwing the onions in. “So, you want me to be mad at you instead? Great plan. Now I’ve lost both of you.”

  “You haven’t lost me. I’m right here.”

  “I don’t trust you anymore! What else aren’t you telling me?”

  “That’s it. I don’t know anything else about it.”

  “You expect me to believe you didn’t snoop around her case?” I opened the package of steaks and grabbed the pepper to season them. “I don’t believe you for a second. I know you looked into shit.”

  “I started to, but I didn’t want anyone else to figure it out. The last thing you needed was the station talking about your girl.”

  “That’s big of you.” I checked the pan again and adjusted the temperature. I leaned over to pre-heat the oven.

  “Why is she afraid of cops?”

  “Because she’s afraid we’re going to arrest her.”

  “Why?” Maria looked dumbfounded.

  “Because she killed a man!” I put the steaks in the pan and washed my hands. I started to calm down when I smelled the steaks cooking. I grabbed a towel and leaned against the sink to dry my hands. “She killed someone, guys.”

  “It was in self-defense, right?” She came up and stood in front of me.

  I shrugged. “I know nothing about it.” I walked to the refrigerator and took out lettuce. “You guys want a salad?” I shook my head. “Why am I even asking you?” I shut the door and took the lettuce to the sink.

  “What do you want me to do, man? Do you want me to start sniffing around?”

  I leaned on the counter and closed my eyes. “I don’t know.”

  I felt Maria’s hand on my shoulder. “We’ll help you. We’ll figure this out.”

  I turned and hugged her. Blake walked over and stood behind Maria and hugged us both. “Right after you finish making our dinner.”

  If Blake was going to start poking his nose around, I needed to fill my parents in first. I looked at everything I could find on the internet, but I still didn’t know much. I couldn’t risk Blake tipping anyone off before I got a chance to talk to my parents. I’d just have to answer some questions later.

  I walked in and took a deep breath. It was almost as hard as when I told my father I didn’t want to be a police officer. I waited for the next morning as my father had the day off and wouldn’t be too tired from his shift. I found him reading the morning paper in the living room.

  “Hey, Dad.” I stood there as he didn’t respond. I put my hands in my back pockets. “I need to talk to you and Mom.”

  “Your mother’s in the kitchen.” He never looked up from the paper.

  I turned and shook my head as I walked to the kitchen. Mom was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and enjoying the view outside. She didn’t see me walk in.

  “Hey, Mom.” I walked over and kissed her cheek.

  “Hi, Mick. Have you had breakfast?” She started to stand.

  “I’m good, Mom. Just sit for a minute.”

  She touched my face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to talk to you.” I looked at the living room. “I need to talk to both of you.”

  “Oh, boy. What’s going on, Mick?”

  “I need to talk to you before Blake tells you.”

  “Are you getting married?”

  “No.” I motioned for the living room. “Will you just come and listen in there? I need Dad to hear this, too.”

  We went to the living room and my father still wouldn’t lower the paper. My mother tried to get him listen, but as long as he stayed in the room, I didn’t care if he responded. In some ways, it was probably better if he didn’t, but I still needed him to hear what I had to say.

  “As you know, I’ve been seeing this girl. She doesn’t like cops.”

  My father finally put his paper down. “Is this why you quit? Over a girl?”

  “No, I never wanted to be a police officer. I want to run my own kitchen. I want to have a restaurant.”

  He went back to his paper and I ripped it from his hands. He sat up. “You are not too old to be taught a lesson.”

  “Maybe you need to be taught one.” I stepped forward when he stood up. “I’m your son, and like it or not, I don’t want to be a cop. I never did, but I tried. I tried to please you and I didn’t like it. It’s my life to live.”

  “It’s the family legacy! We all were police officers. It’s what we do!”

  “It isn’t what I do!”

  My mother stood between us to separate us. My father started to leave, but she stopped him. “He is our son and you will sit and listen to him or you’re walking out on me, too.”

  He stopped and his shoulders slumped for a brief moment before he turned and took his seat. I started pacing the floor. It wasn’t going to go well, and I was debating on letting them find out on their own.

  My father threw a hand up in the air. “You wanted to talk. Get it over with, so I can get on with my day.”

  “Do you remember the Craig Sullivan and Drew Clayborn case?”

  “Of course I remember. I remember all cases that big. Which one are you talking about? The first case when he shoved her down the flight of stairs or the second case when he was killed in her apartment?”

  “Both, but more the second. Do you know what happened that day?”

  “I wasn’t on the case, but I heard talk. He got out and spent a couple days with some chick until he found his ex. He beat up the current boyfriend and used his key to get into her place.”

  “Right. He had someone with him.”

  “Yeah, the chick who’d been dumb enough to fall for a man in prison. He picked the wrong one because she ended up putting a bullet in his head.”

  I looked down. “Yeah, what happened to her?”

  “I don’t know.” He looked at me. “What does it matter?”

  “I didn’t know if she was charged with anything.”

  “Not that I’m aware of. They looked into it but found no evidence she planned on killing him. Everyone said she did it in self-defense.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve never really cared to think about it. It’s just another case to me. There are thousands of cases opened each month. The only reason I heard about that one is because it was on the news, so it was the talk of the station. Those change each week, Mick.” He looked at me. “If you’d paid any attention while you were there, you’d know that.”

  “I do know that. I just wanted to know what you remembered about it.”

  “It’s her, isn’t it?” My mom was silent throughout our discussion but broke the silence when we just stared at each other. “The woman you’re dating is the one who shot him.”

  My father stood. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  “No, I’m not. Blake is looking into things—”

  “He will do nothing of the sort!” He grabbed his cell phone and stormed off to the other room.

  I turned to my mom. “I need help.”

  “If she hasn’t been charged, why do you need help?”

  “She thinks she’s going to be. She thinks we’re coming after her. I need to prove to her we aren’t.”

  “You can’t prove that.” My father walked back in. “If you get someone digging into this and it turns out it wasn’t self-defense, are you prepared to send your girlfriend to prison? Are you prepared to turn her life upside-down?” He shook his head. “You can’t just go around poking your nose into other people’s business.”

  “She isn’t other people, Dad!” I sat on the sofa and put my head in my hands. “She isn’t other people.”

  Letting my father handle th
ings wasn’t easing my mind. I was worried he’d try to put a bigger wedge between Deb and me, but his love and devotion to the law wouldn’t allow him to hurt her case. He may still hate me for not following in his footsteps, but he’d never use the law to his advantage.

  The only thing I could do was rip the restaurant apart. It helped keep my mind busy, but I still thought of Deb. She started coming back to work and I’d see her car every time I’d toss something in the dumpster. It made me work harder on the demolition trying to get my frustration out. I wanted to talk to her, but I knew I couldn’t until I could ease her fears about being arrested.

  I looked outside before stepping all the way out on the street. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t around when I took another pile from the demolition. The coast was clear, so I hurried to the dumpster. I’d reverted back to a teenage boy, hiding from the girl I had a crush on. I shook my head as I threw the next load in.

  “Hi.” I jumped and caused Rachael to laugh. “Maybe it’s better you’re not a cop. I hear you make a mean spaghetti, though.”

  “Yeah, your brother liked that, huh?”

  “Not if you asked him, but he couldn’t stop trying to find something that matched it for a couple of weeks.”

  I started to go back in and stopped at the door. “How is she?”

  “You should ask her yourself.”

  I shook my head and went inside. She followed me.

  “Why are you running from her? Why aren’t you fighting for her?”

  “You have no idea what I’m doing.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? What are you doing?”

  “Nothing that concerns you.”

  She grabbed my arm. “If it’s about my sister, asshole, it concerns me.”

  “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

  “This is kind of awkward.” I looked around as Joseph sat silent. He hadn’t picked up his notepad or pencil once since I walked in. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking as he sat there with his chin on his hand. “Should I just go?”

  “Is that what you want?”

  “I don’t want to just sit here.”

  “You made the decision to come today. It’s your decision to stay or leave.”

  “You’re mad.”

  “No, Deb, I’m not mad. I’m confused as to whether or not you want to be a part of therapy. I want to help you, but you have to want to help yourself.”

  “I’m not sure what the point is.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “It isn’t going to change anything. It isn’t going to make the fact I killed someone go away. It isn’t going to give me back the years I spent with someone I never should’ve been with.”

  “You still have time to create the life you want. I thought you were doing that with the shop. And what about Mick? Aren’t you creating a life with him?”

  “Mick’s a cop.”

  He sat up and leaned forward. “Has something happened? Is an investigation going on?”

  “No. He said he quit to open his restaurant, but he’s still a cop. His entire family is filled with cops!”

  “You don’t think he can get past the incident with Craig? I’m sure they’ve seen self-defense cases before.”

  “Do you really believe it was self-defense? After everything I’ve said about hating him and wishing he were dead?”

  “I don’t believe you would’ve pulled that trigger without reason. I don’t believe you would’ve just walked up to him and shot him. However, what I believe isn’t the issue. What you believe is the issue. Do you believe it was self-defense?”

  “I’m not sure. I wanted him dead. I wanted to pull that trigger the moment the gun was in my hand.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I couldn’t do it.”

  “What was happening when you picked up the gun?”

  “He was still fighting Mark.”

  “So, you felt Mark was still in danger?”

  “I don’t know what I thought. I remember Craig was desperate.”

  “Desperate how?”

  “He was looking around.”

  “What do you think he was looking for?”

  “The gun.”

  “But you had it.”

  “Yes, but he didn’t know it. He didn’t look at me until I put it to his head.”

  “So, even he didn’t think you would kill him?”

  I shrugged. “I suppose not.”

  “What happened at the exact moment you shot him? Do you remember?”

  “He yelled at me. He told me I was a lousy lover.”

  “And then what happened?”

  I started shaking.

  “What happened, Deb?”

  “You’ll have nothing if you kill me. You think your husband will take you back? He already has another girlfriend!”

  “I don’t want him and I don’t want you!” I started shaking. It was getting harder to hold onto the gun.

  “Good luck finding someone willing to put up with your constant whining and lack of skills in the sack!” Craig turned to me and reached for the gun. His hand touched mine. If he had taken the gun, we all would’ve been killed. I pulled the trigger.

  I closed my eyes and touched my hand. It was shaking. I couldn’t stop shaking. I opened my eyes and Joseph had picked up the notepad and pen.

  “What did you remember?”

  I looked at my hand. “He touched my hand.”

  “Did you remember anything else?”

  “No. The rest was just the same.” I looked down and narrowed my eyes.

  “Is something on your mind?”

  “Am I just imagining things now to settle my mind about it?”

  “No. That’s what you told me the first time you talked about it.”

  I looked at him. “I told you he touched my hand?”

  “Yes. You’re focusing too much on what you feel you did wrong. You haven’t been allowing yourself to remember everything.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re a good person, Deb. You carry enormous guilt for taking another’s life. The guilt is furthered by having your family’s lives affected and, in some cases, changed because of it.”

  “Did I tell you anything else?”

  “We discussed a lot of things which we will cover again, but they have to come from you. I can’t tell you what you don’t want to remember yet.” He watched me as I played with my thumb. “I think you’re starting to get there.”

  “I’m afraid.”

  “Your memories cannot hurt you. They can make you feel, but they cannot hurt you. The damage has already been done. Next week, we will begin the therapy you’ve been reluctant to start. We will discuss your marriage.” He stood to put my file away.

  I pulled up to the shop just as Mick went back inside through his door. I missed him. The dumpster looked full. I couldn’t imagine there was anything left of the old place. He had kept it longer than he said he was going to and it had already been dumped several times. I wanted to go to look at his progress, but it was best if I stayed away, so I went into my shop.

  “Was it that rough?”

  I looked up at Drew and narrowed my eyes. “Was what that rough?”

  “Your appointment. I always think someone’s dog got kicked when they come in looking like that.” She grabbed her purse.

  “Oh, no. Actually, um . . .” I looked around the shop. “Thanks for covering again.”

  “What were you going to say?”

  “I remembered something.”

  She put her stuff down and walked over to me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I don’t know.” I walked behind the counter to put my purse away. “It’s kind of weird talking to you about it.”

  “Yeah, but I think we’re supposed to. I think it would help.” She walked up to the other side of the counter. “I know this friendship thing is new between us, but I’m the only one who’ll understand anything about Craig. I was there for all the big things and w
hatever he did to you that I wasn’t there for, he may have done the same thing to me. I want to help you.”

  “He touched my hand.”

  “Joseph?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Craig.” I looked at her. “He turned to me and touched my hand. He was going after the gun when I shot him. Did you see him do that?”

  “No, but I was watching you. I wasn’t watching him or the gun.”

  “Oh.”

  The bell above the door rang and Dennis walked in. “Hey, beautiful.” He kissed Drew. “Hey, Deb.”

  “Get a room.”

  “We just might, but right now we have some plans to finalize for the wedding.”

  I raised my eyebrows and Drew started beaming. “He’s helping.” Her smile was huge.

  I smiled as they walked out hand-in-hand. It seemed my little brother could still listen to me. I shook my head and reached for my apron. I needed to get started on some arrangements, but as I turned to go to the back, I heard a loud crash.

  I looked outside and saw nothing. Drew and Dennis had already driven away, so it wasn’t them. I started to walk back in and caught sight of the dumpster. I looked at Mick’s door.

  I turned and took another step to my shop, but I stopped and looked at his door again. I thought about the time he helped me when he smelled something burning. The least I could do was be neighborly as he always was and check on the noise.

  The door was unlocked, so I let myself in. I looked up the stairway I had climbed so many times before. How was it possible to miss a stairway? I shook my head and turned to the store.

  I couldn’t believe the change as I stood in the doorway. Almost everything was out and the place was gutted. The boxes, which had been in the front of the store, were still there, but everything around them had been torn down.

  I didn’t see anything and started to leave until I heard moaning. I peeked around the corner and saw Mick on his back in one direction with the ladder on its side going the other direction. The contents of the toolbox he must have had with him on the ladder were scattered all around. I ran over to him.

  “Oh, God. Are you hurt?” I started touching him “Of course you’re hurt. Where are you hurt?”

  He was taking slow breaths and his eyes were squeezed shut. I started to feel his pockets for his cell phone to call for help, but he grabbed my hand.