by Julie Frayn
“Twenty-three. It was never going to end, right?” Her eyes pleaded with Mazie. “Right?”
“It was never going to end.”
Betty squeezed her eyes shut, put her head back against the wall and wept. “You know what’s stupid?”
“You miss him? And you still love him?”
Betty opened her eyes and gawked at Mazie. “You do know.”
Mazie nodded. “I told you. I understand.”
Betty raised one eyebrow. “Everything?”
“Everything.”
“Does that lawyer know?”
Mazie shook her head.
Betty leaned close. “I won’t tell him,” she whispered.
“He only wants to help you, you know. You should let him.”
Betty turned her attention to the view outside the window. “They can put me in jail forever. I don’t care.”
“Bullshit.”
Betty turned to Mazie, her eyes narrowed.
“If you go to jail, then he wins. He’s been in charge of you all these years. It’s time you got to live life your way. Trust me, it’s worth it.” She took her hands again. “Now let me get Norman, and let him help you. He knows what to do. And he thinks you’re innocent.”
“But I killed him. I said so.”
“It was self-defence, not murder. You are the victim.” She squeezed Betty’s hands. “You’re innocent, Betty.”
~~~~~~~~
Norman turned the volume of the radio down. He bounced in his seat like a toddler who needed to pee. “I just can’t believe it. How did you get her to talk to me?” His focus ping-ponged between her and the road. “Those police reports might have been enough for a jury, and the hospital records. But her testimony, that’ll seal it. We’ll get her off for sure.” He turned to face her, reached out and squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Charlie. Thank you.”
“Norman, watch the road.”
“Sorry.” He put his hands back on the wheel. “How did you break through?”
Mazie stared at her lap. “We shared war stories. She needs someone who understands her. Not another man in charge.”
“I see.” He drove in silence. “Charlie, just how much of Betty’s story can you relate to?”
Mazie cracked her neck. “What do you mean, how much?”
“You told me he abused you. Did he try to kill you? Are you worried he’ll try that again? I assume that’s why you ran away. Otherwise you’d have just divorced the prick.”
She stared at the green and yellow blur the trees made as they winged by her window. “I’ll never be free of him. No matter what happens.”
He tapped the steering wheel with his fingertips and pursed his lips. “He can’t find you, can he?”
She grit her teeth and pushed her tongue into the back of them to prevent the flood of her confession. How could she admit guilt to a lawyer? Didn’t he have an ethical obligation to turn her in? Or at least a moral one.
“Charlie, haven’t you figured it out yet?”
She turned her head. “What?”
He pulled over to the shoulder and eased the car to a stop. The engine cut and the radio silenced. There was nothing but the whiz of cars speeding past and her heavy heartbeat thrumming in her ears.
“You can trust me. That’s what.” He took her hand. “I care for you, Charlie.”
A tear sprung from one eye and she slapped it away. “Norman, I can’t.” She turned away and stared out the window.
“Charlie, talk to me.”
She sat up and whipped the scarf from her neck. “See?” She pointed to the red marks. “I’ll never be free of him. He’s always right here.” She jabbed at her neck with one finger.
Norman wrapped his hand around hers and guided it away from her neck. “So, he had tried to kill you. His violence was escalating.”
“He said he’d kill me. I believed him. It’s not like he hadn’t come close before.”
Norman leaned over the console and put his arms around her.
She flinched at his touch.
“I won’t hurt you, Charlie,” he whispered in her ear. “I would never hurt you.”
She dissolved into his embrace and let waves of convulsing sobs wrack her body.
~~~~~~~~
“Mom?” The door slammed against the wall. Ariel’s book-laden backpack hit the floor with a familiar and comforting thud.
Her daughter was home. All was well. And she was calling her Mom again.
Mazie glanced at the clock and peeled carrots. “You’re late. Where’ve you been?”
Ariel kissed her on the cheek and snatched a piece of raw carrot. She crunched it between her teeth. “Sorry. At the library with Jen.”
Mazie nodded. “Just text me next time, please?”
Ariel nodded and leaned against the counter. She chewed on the carrot and hovered.
“If you’re going to stand there, the least you could do is toss the salad.”
“I could.” She poured the dressing on the salad and stirred it, her mind obviously elsewhere.
Mazie put the peeler down and faced her daughter. “Okay, what’s up?”
Ariel stared at the salad bowl. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“When did you start dating?”
Mazie could lie. Say she was eighteen. Or even sixteen. She sighed. They’d promised to stop lying. At least to each other “Why do you want to know?” Obfuscation. Good strategy. She sliced another carrot.
“I met a boy. He’s really cute and nice and he gets good grades and plays football.”
“Whoa, take a breath.”
“I just don’t want you to say no before you have all the facts.”
“He already asked you out?”
Ariel nodded.
Mazie’s grip tightened on the handle of the knife. “I don’t know. You’re only thirteen. How old is he?”
“Sixteen.”
“Ariel, that’s too old for you. Wait, is this the boy from registration day?”
Ariel’s cheeks pinked. She nodded and grinned at the salad.
“What grade is he in, ten? Eleven?”
“Eleven, but so what? It’s only a three year difference. When I’m eighteen he’ll be twenty-one. It’s not a big deal.”
“But you’re not eighteen. You’re thirteen.” Not legal. Not ready.
“Did you date at thirteen?”
“Yes. But…”
“Oh my God, you are such a hypocrite!” Ariel’s raised voice rang in her ears.
“Not a hypocrite, young lady.” Did she just turn into her mother? “The boy I dated was also thirteen. Hand holding and the occasional kiss. No chance of sex. A sixteen year-old is looking for way more than holding your hand. And you’re too young for it.”
Ariel tossed the salad tongs onto the counter. Oil and vinegar smeared the fake wood surface. “I’m not stupid, mother. I won’t go and get pregnant or anything.” She balled her fists and took a step back. “You just think he’ll be like Daddy. Just because you got hit doesn’t mean I will. I won’t do anything to deserve it.”
Mazie reeled back. Her cheeks ached from held-back tears, the knife crashed to the countertop. She turned to face her accuser and poked one finger at the air between them. “I didn’t deserve what he did to me.”
Ariel paled. One hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.” She threw herself into Mazie’s arms. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry.” She pulled away, her eyes pleading. “But Adam’s not like that. He’s so sweet and kind. He opens doors for me. At lunch he picked a dandelion, said he knew it was just a weed, but if we went out he’d bring me real flowers. Roses or something.”
Sweet and kind. Romantic and filled with promises. Just like Cullen before the abuse started. Poor, sweet, naïve Ariel. But damn it, not every charming man would turn into an abuser. This was just a high school kid smitten with her beautiful daughter. He wasn’t Cullen. Wasn’t even a man.
“Have you kissed him?”<
br />
Ariel blushed and cast her eyes to the salad. “Just once.”
“Your first kiss,” Mazie whispered. She picked up the knife and lopped the top off a carrot.
“Well, second really.”
Mazie dropped the knife. “Who? When?”
“Aaron Johnson. On the swings at school. It wasn’t a big deal. He smelled like cheese and his lips were dry.”
Mazie stifled a laugh.
“Mom, please? Just one date. Just a movie. Nothing else, I promise.”
How had her baby girl become a woman in one short summer? She could impose strict curfews, keep tabs on Ariel’s every move. Risk alienating her and losing her altogether. And suck all the fun out of her life in the process.
“Fine. One date. Then we’ll see.”
Ariel squealed and hugged her. “Thank you. I promise you, he is so not a bad guy.”
Mazie turned away, snatched the knife from the counter, and hacked celery hearts to bits.
~~~~~~~~
“Good evening, Ms. Smyth. I’m Adam. Is Clementine here?”
Tall and handsome. Clean cut, short blond hair, and well dressed in high-end jeans, a clean golf shirt, and brand-spanking new runners. He held a bouquet of half-a-dozen red roses in one hand. His green eyes twinkled just a bit too much for her taste. Nothing but mischief and high expectations in those eyes.
And so it begins. She sighed. “Come on in.”
“Don’t be lame,” Ariel had demanded earlier. “And don’t embarrass me.”
Mazie had countered with what every parent in history had likely said. “But it’s my job to embarrass you.”
She knocked on Ariel’s bedroom door. “Adam is here.”
Ariel swept the door open — a grand entrance. She wore the best jeans Mazie could get at Goodwill, one of her own best shirts, and black pumps. Her little girl, sharing her clothes and shoes. She’d beg for time to turn back if she weren’t painfully aware of the shit storm the past had in store for them.
“Hi, Adam.” Ariel’s cheeks pinked at the sight of him.
“Hi, Clem. You look pretty.” He held out the flowers. “Real flowers, as promised.” His smile was disarming, his teeth polished and straight.
Ariel accepted the flowers and put them to her nose, inhaled with a dainty sniff. “Thank you.”
He tugged one rose free from the bunch and turned to Mazie. “For you, Ms. Smyth.”
She smirked. He was a sly one. But he didn’t fool her for one second. “Let me put them in water.” She took the single rose from him and the bouquet from Ariel. “Wanna help me, bug?”
She set the flowers on the kitchen table, held her daughter’s hands and leaned her forehead against Ariel’s temple. “Be home by ten,” she whispered, “like we agreed. Be safe. And please, please, honey.” She forced back tears. “Just a goodnight kiss, okay?”
Ariel rolled her eyes. “Mother, seriously? Stop worrying.”
May as well ask her not to breathe.
Mazie watched them stroll down the hall. He took her daughter’s hand before opening the door to the staircase and guiding Ariel ahead of him. He turned back and nodded at Mazie.
Her gut lurched. She could follow them. Keep an eye on him. Make sure he was the prince charming Ariel believed him to be.
She stepped into the apartment clicked the door shut, leaned her back against it, and sank to the floor. What was she going to do, bubble-wrap Ariel and keep her under the bed until she was old enough to know who to trust? Would she ever be that old? Hell, Mazie hadn’t even figured it out yet.
~~~~~~~~
The cell phone vibrated against the coffee table and jolted her awake. Her arm spasmed. The wine glass in her hand jerked and sent dots of cabernet into the air and onto her jeans. The darkened room was illuminated by the flickering glow of the television.
Mazie grabbed her phone and peered at the screen through blurry eyes. Ten-thirty?
“Ariel?”
“Is this Mrs. Charlotte Smyth?” A man’s voice, clipped and authoritative.
“Ms. Who is this?”
“Ma’am, this is Constable Elders of the Cornwall Police.”
The room became fuzzy, her hands numbed.
“Your daughter, Clementine, has been arrested for assault.”
She shook her head. “What? Assault?”
“Yes ma’am. She assaulted a teenage boy.”
“Adam?”
“Yes.”
“Is she all right?”
“She’s fine, but we need you to come to the station.” He reeled off the address. She scratched it out, her hands trembling, her normally neat and upright cursive a jumbled mess of incomprehensible loops.
She ended the call and dialled Norman. “Clementine’s been arrested. Can I borrow your car?”
“I’m on my way. I’ll drive you.”
Mazie rushed into the brick and concrete building and raced to a counter. “My daughter, she’s been arrested. Where is my daughter?” She slapped the desk with an open palm.
Norman caught up with her and put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s Clementine Smyth, with a Y.”
The officer at the desk gave them directions and Mazie ran down the hall. Ariel sat on a chair against the wall, one hand covering her face, her shoulders slouched. Mazie dropped to her knees at Ariel’s feet.
Black mascara streaked across her cheeks, her alabaster skin stark in comparison. “Mom, I’m so sorry.” She burst into tears and threw her arms around Mazie’s neck.
“It’s okay, bug. Everything is going to be fine.”
Norman approached the cop standing beside Ariel. “What is the charge, Officer?”
“Assault. She hit her boyfriend.”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Ariel snapped.
The officer grinned. “Well whoever he is, you did a damn fine job of it.”
Adam came around the corner, his left eye swollen and bruised, his lip cut. He walked with his shoulders down, hands in the front pocket of his jeans. A man who looked like an older, balding version of him walked beside him, his hand on the scruff of Adam’s neck. The boy glanced at Ariel as he neared. “Crazy bitch,” he said, loud enough for all to hear.
Ariel stood and lunged at him. “Asshole!”
Mazie grabbed her and pulled her away.
Ariel turned to the constable. “Attempted rape, isn’t that what it’s called? Aren’t you gonna arrest him for that?” She turned to Mazie. “It was self-defence, Mom. You were right. They’re all pricks.”
“Clementine, hush. That’s not what I said.”
Adam wiped his bloody lip with his sleeve. “You’re just a fucking tease.”
His father swatted the back of his head. “Shut your prissy mouth. You should be ashamed.”
Mazie nodded. “Thank you.”
“Not talking about your slut daughter, lady. He let some girl beat the ever-loving crap out of him. Fucking pussy.”
Mazie took a step toward him, her heartbeat in her ears. “What did you say?”
The constable stepped between them. “All right, enough of this bullshit.” He motioned to another officer. “Put Mr. Langley and his father in another interview room.”
Mazie stroked Ariel’s hair and watched the father and son retreat down the hall. She turned to the constable. “Can I take her home now?”
“Not yet.” Constable Elders showed them into a small room. A single table sat in the middle, four hard plastic chairs circled it. “Have a seat, Mr. and Mrs, Smyth. I need to ask Clementine some questions.”
“I’m not Clementine’s father,” Norman said. He glanced at Mazie. “I’m her lawyer.”
The constable looked from Norman to Mazie and back. “I see.” He moved the chairs so that he was on one side of the table facing the three of them. “So, tell me what happened.”
Ariel glanced at Norman. He nodded. “It’s okay, Clem. Tell him what happened.”
“We were at the movie. He kissed me.” She blushed, her gaze focused on th
e table top. “It was nice, so I kissed him back.” Her face drained of colour and she squirmed in her seat. “Then he touched me. I said no. He tried again, and I pushed him away, told him to back off.” Tears dripped down her cheeks. “He called me a tease. So I walked out.”
Mazie shouldn’t have let her go on this damn date. She was too young. And neither of them were ready. She brushed hair out of Ariel’s eyes. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“That’s what I was going to do when I got outside. But he followed me and grabbed my arms, pulled me into the parking lot, and pushed me up against a Dumpster.” Her shoulders quivered. “Mom, he put his hand up my shirt and asked if I liked it.” She threw both hands in the air. “I freaked. I just started punching.” She dropped her hands to the table, rubbed her swollen knuckles. “Someone called the cops.” She looked at Mazie. “He just took it. Why didn’t he try to stop me?”
“I don’t know, bug. Maybe he’s not the hitting kind.”
Ariel snorted. “Yeah, just the date rape kind.”
The constable scratched in his notebook. “That’s not quite what Adam said happened. He left out the part about him forcing himself on you.”
Norman cleared his throat. “Are you saying you don’t believe her?”
“I’m just letting her know what he said. Did anyone else witness what happened between you two?”
“No.”
“That’s a shame. I’d like to pop the little bastard for sexual assault. I can press charges if you want. But I’m afraid with his injuries and no other proof, it might not stick.”
Mazie whispered in Ariel’s ear.
She looked at her hands. “I won’t press charges.”
Constable Elders eyed Mazie. “Are you sure?”
Ariel nodded.
“If he bothers you at school, or at all, you call me, understand?” He handed her a business card.
“I understand.”
He slid a clipboard across the table to Mazie. “This is the Notice to Parent. Just a record of the offence and acknowledgement of your understanding of her rights and responsibilities. Once you sign it, I can release her into your custody.”
Mazie scanned the form, scratched her Charlotte Smyth signature at the bottom. “Now can I take her home?”
“Yes ma’am.” He handed her another slip of paper. Promise to Appear. “Just be sure your daughter doesn’t miss her court date.” He held his hand out to Ariel and she shook it. “I know you’re getting the crappy end of this deal, Clementine. But you did the right thing. Always fight back.”