Its Only Fair Ch 04

Continuing the tale. Thanks to everyone who has been commenting, voting, and offering feedback. I know that you can't please everyone, and that's just fine. As long as I am getting my tale across in a manner that pleases me, I am doing what I sought out to do. And for everyone else who is enjoying it as well, thank you so much!

Being that everyone has a choice, you also have a choice not to read the story if you don't like it. Very simple: Don't like it, don't read it. Move on to something else. Writing anonymous comments about how much it sucked and you didn't get an erection and pussy this and dumb ass that and I hate you is the internet equivalent to screaming into a metal fan - marginally amusing and totally pointless. Your negative comments aren't fazing me, sorry!

I have gotten into a rhythm now so these size chapters should pretty much be the norm for me I would think. That should be meaty enough and if it runs longer, it's only a bonus.

And to placate the naysayers and those who aren't sure, there is an outline and direction and an ending to the story so it won't just meander about and then peter out with some Deux ex Machina quicky resolution. There are a few chapters left and this tale will not drag on any longer than it has to tell its tale.

Being my first submission here, my major mistake was breaking the tale up into too many parts, could have broken this into 3 parts tops and been done. Faux pas on my part, I'll correct that for the next story.

Finally I noticed that that at the end of Day 1 of Chapter 2's posting, it had over 14,000 views - which means that I must be doing something right. Sorry to disappoint those who suggested I should "quit and go fuck myself". Chuckle.

Like a great writer once said: Write what you know. So that's what this is, me writing what I know.

Again, no white slavery to Sierra Leone or Delta 6 operations or BBC loving or coconut cream pies. This is as close to reality as I could get it and still tell the story.

Enjoy! -V

*****

The repetitive buzzing of my alarm clock woke me from my restless sleep the next morning. I fumbled back and slapped the snooze button before yawning and getting up. Monday. Normally it never bothered me, but after the weekend I had, I was in no way shape or form ready for today. I stretched and rubbed my face, wincing in pain as I did so, forgetting about my black eye.

I staggered into the shower and let the hot water run over my body, waking me up better than any cup of coffee could. I toweled myself off and gave my face a last once over in the mirror. Truthfully? I looked terrible.

I got dressed in the silence of the morning before going into Amber's room and waking her up with a gentle shove. Once her eyes opened and she smiled up at me, I lifted her from her crib and sang, "The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and the trees are awake." Swiftly I had her changed and dressed and then brought her into the kitchen where we ate a quiet breakfast punctuated only with shared smiles and little giggle noises back and forth with each other.

As I got her ready to go, I had a thought and looked around the kitchen for the handcuffs, not finding them anywhere. I then checked out her section of the office. Again, no luck. I thought about the basement but a look at the clock showed it was already after 7:30 and I had to leave. So I snagged my briefcase from the floor and took Amber's bag of fresh linens and blankets for daycare and left quietly, not wanting to wake Elle up. Not because I was being courteous, but because I didn't want to talk with her at this time.

I saw Stan's truck was missing from the driveway, happy he was working today, and flipped on the radio as I backed out of the driveway and drove away. The announcer eventually went through the list of delays this morning, and I was pissed to hear the Southern State was suffering. "Lovely, Amber," I said upon hearing this, "I guess this means you're stuck with me a little longer." She cooed in response.

The ride in was indeed longer than I'd like, but I arrived at the daycare at quarter after 8; more than enough time to do what I had to and still get to work before 9. It began when I walked up to the counter to check Amber in. "Hey, Shelly," I called out, navigating the system swiftly to find my daughter's log in portal.

Shelly's head lifted and her perky expression froze, and then fell as she looked at me. "Oh my god, Mr. Masters! Your eye!"

This immediately drew the attention of the nearby teachers and parents who also came forward to see my damaged face. "Oh my, who hit you? Are you ok? Did you go to the hospital?" The questions came fast and furious as almost a dozen young women crowded around, offering their sympathy and running their fingertips across the bruised skin.

"Ladies, ladies. I'm ok, really. It was an accident. Honest."

"Yeah, my ex-boyfriend used to give me 'accidents' too," one of the teachers provided sarcastically.

"Seriously, Mr. Masters," Shelly asked, leaning over the desk and searching my face, "are you sure you're ok? You can tell us, you know." There were a number of agreeing sounds and bobbing, nodding heads.

"Thanks everyone. Really. I'm touched. But it was just an accident, that's all." I hoisted Amber a little higher and made my way through the press of well meaning bodies. "Let me get Sunshine here in class or I'm going to be late for work."

"Aw, Ok Mr. Masters." "No problem, Mr. Masters." "We're here if you need us."

Their voices quieted as I walked away but I could hear the buzzing of their muted conversation behind me. I made my way into the Zebra room and strode right up to Amber's crib, wanting to get out of here before Kerri saw my face. "Hey, Kerri," I called out to her, the buxom teacher was finishing up the changing of one of the other kids in here. "You have a good weekend?"

"Hi, Mr. Rick! It wasn't too bad, just short." She was working with fast efficiency and I was just dumping Amber's bag into her cubby. "And lonely." She giggled. "How was yours? Was Pumpkin good?"

I gave my daughter a fast hug and lowered her to the mat where another little boy was playing with some oversized plush cubes. "It was uneventful. And Amber was delicious as always," I stood up and finished with, "Listen, I'm running late so I'll see you later, ok?" I was trying to make it to the door but she was already done and stepped towards me, child on her hip, smiling as she approached.

"What's the rush," she asked, glancing at the big clock over the door. "It's barely 8:30 and you're day doesn't start until 9 if I remember...What the hell?" Her eyes grew wide as she finally got close enough to see me.

"It's nothing Kerri, just a goofy accident over the weekend, that's all."

Kerri stared at my battered and scratched up face without word; a glistening in her own eyes and a firmness to her lips answered me.

"Seriously, everyone's making a big deal about it."

"Mr. Rick, please." She replied. "I know."

"Know what?"

"I know what abuse looks like."

"Kerri, you're way off here."

She rolled up her short sleeves on her left arm, and showed me the creamy top of her feminine bicep. There were a half dozen strange round scars there, each one a little smaller than a dime. I looked at her, uncomprehending. "Cigarette burns," she said.

I frowned. "I didn't know you smoked?"

She lowered her sleeve, head downcast. "I don't. My last boyfriend did."

I didn't know what to say.

"Listen, Mr. Rick, and listen good. It doesn't end. It only gets worse. You think it'll end, and you hope for the best and maybe they'll be like you remember them to be, but in the end you are fooling yourself and the abuse just keeps mounting." She pointed to Amber. "And you need to think two things. One, do you want your daughter to ever see someone do that to someone they love? And two, what if your daughter became the next target? Could you accept that?"

"Way off base here, Kerri. Not a chance in the world, this was a one time thing."

She put the child she was holding down, allowing her to crawl to the other kids playing together, her gaze watching them wistfully. "I'm sure you believe that, Mr. Rick. But I've listened to you these last two months and I know you never thought you getting hit would ever be a one time thing." She looked up at me. "Meet me for lunch today and tell me what happened. Take me to Wendy's, your treat."

"Kerri, it's not a good idea..."

"Why? Because I'm 23 and you're not?"

"No, that's not it. It's just not proper..."

"Oh, please," she interrupted me again, "the 19

th

Amendment passed a long time ago. It's just lunch. Nobody cares. Be here at 12:15, that's my break. Unlike you, I can't take lunch whenever I want."

I wanted to say no and just get on with my day, but I didn't. The truth is, I really needed someone to talk to. I couldn't talk to a friend because they were too close to the situation. I had already spoken about my concerns with Stan, but he was friends with my wife and I and I couldn't rely on him being impartial. I didn't feel at all comfortable talking at work. I wasn't particularly religious so I had no clergy to talk to. My mother's litany was a constant, "dump the bitch," no matter what I said. And even though I wanted Elle and I to talk to a therapist to help us out, I didn't see the purpose of going to one only for myself.

Truthfully, Kerri wasn't a bad choice. She was young so might have some insight into what the allure was that my wife was into. She was a woman so I would get a different answer and help then to 'hit her back.' She wasn't a friend so wasn't close to my family. And lastly, I found her alluring on some primal level, and given the number of blows to my self-esteem that Elle had been hitting me with lately, having an attractive woman interested in my life only made me feel better.

I wasn't an idiot, I was aware that Kerri 'liked' me on some level and most likely had some older-male issues (most of the young teachers in the day care seemed to) but a burger and fries at Wendy's seemed harmless enough for the chance to tell someone what was going on in the wreckage that was my life.

"Fine. 12:15. Don't make me wait."

Her smile lit up like a flare, her cheeks dimpling. "Great. See you then." She gave my arm a faint rub and tiny squeeze before turning to the four kids in the room and going into teacher mode.

I left and arrived at work in time, making my way to my office with a number of stares and "Oh, wow's" in my wake. For the next hour I had to tell everyone from the mail clerk to Andy, my boss, that it was "just an accident" and "nothing to worry about" over and over. It wasn't until 10:30 that I was able to start real work and lost myself in the timecard system and payroll until my Outlook made a pair of 'bongs' and alerted me at 12:05 with:

Lunch. Wendy's. Kerri.

I sighed, closing the payroll system down so nosey employees couldn't come in and spy, hit 'dismiss' on the choice box, and walked out. "Andy," I said, poking my nose into his office. From the way he was intently studying the screen I had a suspicion he was playing Farmville.

He clicked somewhere else on his screen and looked up at me, further confirming my guess, "What's up, Rick?"

"I'm going out for lunch, be back in an hour."

"You? Going OUT for lunch?" He smirked. "That raise must be going to your head." He gave a short barking laugh. "Listen, no more than two martini's and bring the rest of your filet mignon back in a doggie bag for later. Ha! Doggie bag!" He punched the air, face getting red from his own mirth.

"Whatever," I strode away, took two steps back and poked my head in his office and said, "Stop trying to water your fields."

His laughing calls followed me down the hall as I made my way out of D&H Industries and eventually back to the daycare. I parked in the lot and took a deep breath. "What the fuck are you doing, Rick?" I asked myself. I was unable to answer that question as Kerri came walking out of the center and strode over to the Equinox. I unlocked the door and she climbed in. "Hey, Mr. Rick. Glad you came."

"Hey Kerri," I watched as she pulled her seatbelt around and fastened it, the belt bisecting her prodigious chest and making my forehead break out in sweat. I turned back to the parking lot and put the truck in gear, noticing a great many number of Kerri's workmates where crowded at the door and staring at our departing vehicle with serious interest. "Thanks again. But this isn't really necessary."

"We'll see," she replied and then launched into some detail about how her day had been going so far and the crazy antics her wards had gotten into. I drove, listening to her prattle on, feeling myself relax and actually smile at some of her descriptions. We only had to drive on the main road a mile until the glass faced front and bright red sign announced that we had arrived at our destination.

"Drive thru."

"What, I asked?"

She pointed through the window. "Lunch crowd. There's no tables in there. Only four cars on the drive thru. Plus I don't think you really want to tell me what's going on where everyone could listen."

I shrugged and joined the queue. It went fairly quick plus Kerri's good natured chatter was helping to pass the time. I placed the order for both of us and then eventually drove up to the window to pay. From there I drove to the side parking lot, rolled down both front windows, and stopped the vehicle.

We ate in companionable silence, the passing cars on the busy road and the faint snippets of conversation we heard from walking diners the only sounds. Finally, our meal done, Kerri took a long sip of her soda and sighed contently. "Thanks, Mr. Rick. That was great."

"You're welcome, glad you enjoyed it."

She looked at the clock. 12:37. "OK, enough stalling. What happened? And tell me the truth, no more crap about an accident."

"It was though."

She waved her hand. "No, start at the beginning, ok?" She fixed me with her gaze, her lips pursed and eyes ready.

I started to tell her the story, highlighting only the occurrences of the last two days but she stopped me often, asking for some clarification of a point in the tale, or explanation of why I did what I did. This forced me to go back further and explain more, eventually giving her the entire tale and ending it with last night's nonresolution.

"Rick, you're abused."

"I'm aware of it."

She shook her head. "No Rick, you are in an abusive relationship. Trust me, I know. It's all there."

I was quiet, pondering this. Was it possible? Can a guy be in an abusive relationship? You watch these whining women on Oprah and Judge Judy and you wonder why they stay with their obvious asshole spouses and now, like a blast of cold water, it's pointed out that I'm one of them?

"Why are you still with her?" Kerri asked, her question mirroring my own thoughts in the matter.

"I've been with her for 14 years. Married for 9."

She bunched one leg under her other thigh and looked at me. "That sounds more like inertia than a reason. Do you love her?"

"Of course."

She shook her head. "No, seriously. Remove the image of who you married and fell in love with and look at only the person you described to me. That's who's in your life now. That person, do you love her?"

"No," I answered, drawing the word out as my mind flared. My thoughts began jumbling about, the pounding between my ears growing more jarring.

"Tell me what your life was like when you first got together."

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, the smell of exhaust scenting from the cars idling nearby. "It was like most young couples I guess. We were friends first and sort of fell together when both of our SO's were caught screwing around. We had a lot in common. She was always looking out for me, making me happy. I was doing the same for her."

My mind filled in pictures along the back of my lids. "We took road trips often. Nothing costly, just two people going places together. Camping in Wildwood, the lighthouse at Montauk, a couple visits to Cape Cod, Six-Flags Great Adventure. We had only the best for one another and knew after a few years we were going to get married."

"I was working at night, loading cars for UPS when she told me that I should go back to college. She pushed, cajoled, and bribed me, but it was worth it and she was right. So at 24 I went back to college a second time and eventually got my degree in accounting. She already had her degree and was working for Monochange as a graphic designer when we moved in together. We got married and stayed in that shitty apartment we shared a few years until I had finally landed a better job and we bought our house."

"It sounds nice," Kerri said wistfully.

"It was. I mean, let's be honest, we had our share of fights over stupid stuff. A couple of arguments over money and the like. But neither one of us had a large circle of friends and we didn't mind, we had one another."

"So, you did love her and she you."

"Yep."

"What happened?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. Handcuffs, hitting me, her just 'I'm a cast iron bitch and hate you when I'm not filled with apathy' attitude. I don't understand it."

"Well," she said, glancing at the clock, "I'm not telling you what to do. But for myself, it never got any better and the abuse continued. The best thing I ever did was take an action for myself and just leave."

"It's not as easy, there's the house, Amber, and our marriage."

"I know," she replied, "and that's why your situation is so messed up." She pointed to my eye. "Did you document that?"

"What? This? No, why? I didn't call the cops. Shit, she's my wife, you don't call the cops on your wife."

Kerri took out her cellphone and snapped a picture of my face, having me turn to the side to get another view of it. "No 'wife' in her right mind would do what she did. You are lying to yourself, Rick. Working under a two-fold problem. One, you're a man and men don't call the cops when a woman hits them. God's honest truth. And Two, you're an abused partner and abused partners usually have to get knocked around a bunch more before they snap out of it."

She finished fiddling with her phone and then my own chirped. "I sent them over to you. I suggest you download then to your computer and keep them date marked. This is only going to get worse, you know."

I nodded. "You see this a lot, Kerri? You seem to be fairly knowledgeable about all this."

"I've seen my share and been a victim to it too many times. It's pretty common, Rick. I don't know if it's a generation thing or what, but there is an entire crop of 18 to 28 year old guys who have double standards, too fast of a hand, and no respect for us women anymore." She looked up at me, fingers just feathering the left side of my eye. "Your wife is a complete idiot and maybe at one point you two were close together, but she doesn't deserve your love or patience anymore."

"I...I don't know what to say, Kerri. You've given me a lot to think about."

She smiled, taking her hand back and tapping the dashboard. "Then I've done my job. It's 1:12 and if you don't leave now, I'm going to be late."

I started the truck and pulled out of Wendy's, heading back to the day care in friendly silence. I drove into the lot and parked right in front of the building. "Thanks again, Kerri."

She opened the door and slid her curved posterior out. Grinning she replied, "Any time, Mr. Rick," falling back to her normal interaction. "I'll see you later to pick up, Pumpkin." And then she shut the door and entered the center. I waved goodbye, smiling to see half a dozen of her peers had gathered again near the front door to watch our farewell.