Chapter 2, part 2

“Oh, my god,” Anne cried. “Denise, honey, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Denise replied meekly, still sobbing. “I’ll be fine. Well, so much for a baby saving our relationship.” Denise sighed, trying to steady herself as she rose from the ground. “I guess we can stop believing in that idea now.” She looked wistfully at Anne. “So, now what?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll stay with you tonight so you will have someone to help out in case he comes home later. Let me think on this one. We’ll figure it out. In the meantime, let’s get you inside and settled on the couch so you can rest.”
“But, Anne,” Denise protested frantically, “you heard him! I have to get the housework done or he will kill me whenever he does finally come home!”
“No, Denise,” Anne replied firmly. “You are not going to do anything but rest. I will take care of the house. Now, come on and don’t argue with me,” she stated sternly, as Denise began to open her mouth. “I am serious.”
“All right,” Denise sighed. “I guess I could use the rest. Are you sure you don’t mind helping?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t offer if I minded. But,” she said thoughtfully, “we really do need to figure out what to do about Mitch. He’s really gone off the deep end now, and there is no way you or the baby will be safe if this continues.”
“I know. I’m scared,” Denise whispered. “I don’t know what to do.”
“We’ll figure it out. I promise. Now get indoors before you catch pneumonia.”
“All right, all right! I’m going!” Denise smiled briefly. “No matter what, Anne, you always seem to pull me out of a bad mood. Thanks!”
The women went inside and Denise melted onto the couch. Anne took a quick glance at the double-wide mobile home. She scrunched up her nose in confusion.
“What exactly is Mitch hollering about, anyway?” she queried. “The house is in good shape. I wish I could get my place to look half this neat and clean, for goodness sake! I don’t see the problem.”
“Well,” Denise began, without even thinking about it, “the laundry needs to be folded and put away; the bathroom needs a quick once-over; the living room and bedroom need to be vacuumed; and the whole house needs to be dusted. Aside from that, I’ve done everything else.”
“Now that I have been fully briefed, I will get a move on,” Anne chuckled. “But first, can I get you anything?”
“I would love a glass of ice water, please.”
“Done!”
As Anne returned from the kitchen with Denise’s glass of water, the phone rang. The two friends looked at each other in horror, as Denise picked up the receiver, shaking.
“Hello?” she said softly.
“Denise, it’s me.” Mitch’s voice came through the receiver, sounding far calmer than he had previously in the yard.
“O-oh, h-h-i, hun,” she stammered.
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into me. Why did you have to go to the hospital? Are you and the baby okay? Is everything all right?” His voice sounded very apologetic, but Denise wasn’t sure she could trust what her ears were hearing.
“I’m okay. I had a few painful contractions, but the doctors said it was normal. The baby and I are fine.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I’ll make it up to you. I guess I’ve been just worried about money and having enough stuff for the baby. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. It won’t happen again. I promise. Can you forgive me?” He was pleading with her now. She desperately wanted to believe he was sincere.
“Yes, Mitch, of course.”
“Thank you, baby. I mean it. This won’t happen again. I’ll be home soon. I love you.”
“Me, too. See you then.” Denise hung up the phone and turned to face Anne. “He says he’s sorry, that this will never happen again, and that he will make it up to me.”
“Uh-huh,” Anne scoffed, “and we’ve heard that before, now, haven’t we?”
“But he’s never been this bad before. He really sounded sincere. Shouldn’t I give him another chance?” Denise searched Anne’s face with saddened eyes. “My baby should have a father, right?”
“In my opinion? Not if it has to be Mitch. But that’s me. You have to do what you think is right for you and the baby. It’s not my decision.”
“I know, I know,” wailed Denise as she sank back down on the couch. “I don’t know what to think anymore. We’ll wait and see what happens.”
Anne hustled about getting the housework completed, and then kissed her friend good-bye. “You’re sure you want me to go? You’ll be okay?”
“Yes, Anne, thank you! I’ll be fine. He’ll be okay when he gets back. I’m afraid that he’d flare up again if you were still here.”
“Okay, but call me if you need me, do you understand?”
“Yes. I promise.” Anne left, and Denise paced about waiting for Mitch to return.
When he walked through the door, he rushed to his wife and held her close in his arms. He apologized profusely, and kissed the top of her head, her cheeks, her neck and her face until he reached her lips. Then he picked her up tenderly and brought her to bed with him.
The next morning, Mitch was still being tender, kind and gentle. Denise softened, and decided that maybe this time he really did intend to change his ways.
I’ll give him just one more chance, she thought silently. He can’t get any worse, can he?

'Til Death, Chapter 2, Part 1

For the first few months, Mitch continued to be pleasant. He brought roses to Denise at the office for no particular reason, and took her out to dinner several times a month. He jumped whenever she attempted to lift even an empty laundry basket, and took over the cooking completely to help her out around the house. Once the newness of the pregnancy wore off, however, he went right back to being the same, disgruntled old Mitch.
“Mitch,” Denise called from the kitchen, “I’m sorry to bother you, but would you mind taking the garbage out? The bag is overfull, at this point, and I can’t lift it.”
“I’ll take care of it later. Don’t worry about it.”
Denise sighed. “Whatever,” she muttered. To Mitch she said meekly, “But, honey, you said that yesterday…”
“Don’t get mouthy with me, Denise,” Mitch snapped. “I said I’d take care of it, and I will. It doesn’t have to be done right now. Just because you’re pregnant doesn’t give you an excuse to be bitchy with me, so lose the attitude.”
Denise didn’t bother to respond. She just shook her head in silence, and went back to washing dishes. Too busy doing nothing on the computer to help me out, as usual, she thought to herself. Big surprise there.
Mitch spent hours and hours in front of the computer every evening, playing video games, chatting with his buddies online, or, most frequently, looking at and downloading various pornographic pictures on the internet. Over the past several weeks, Mitch and Denise had numerous fights about this issue. At this point, Denise was just too tired to get into it. She decided to leave it alone this evening.
The couple hadn’t made love in weeks, and they hardly spoke anymore. Denise could feel their relationship deteriorating again, and she tried in vain to find new ways to rekindle the old flame. She was starved for attention, but had run out of ideas, and worse yet, had completely lost interest. She simply didn’t see the point in trying anymore. She was terribly frustrated, and hoped that the new baby might finally change things for the better. Unfortunately, that was five long months away.
The sound of the ringing phone snapped Denise back to reality. Wow, she thought, he’s actually not online for once!
“Hello?’
“Denise! How are you feeling?” It was Shelly Richards. She and her husband Robert had been the Farber’s very close friends since college. “We were hoping the four of us could get together soon and maybe have a little dinner party or something. It’s been ages since we’ve seen you!”
“Hi, Shelly!” Denise laughed. “We’d love to get together. I’ll check with Mitch, because I think it’s our turn to host. I’ve been feeling great, by the way! Thank you for thinking of us. What days would be good for you and Bob? Give me a few choices and I’ll compare them with Mitch’s schedule. I’ll give you a call at the end of the week to plan something. Does that work for you?”
The women chatted aimlessly for a few more minutes, and Denise hung up. She had written down some dates to run past Mitch, and went into the living room to discuss the idea with him.
“Mitch, that was Shelly on the phone…”
“I heard,” he interrupted. “What days did they give you? Do you feel up for company?” Denise handed him the paper with the dates scrawled on it.
“I would love to host a dinner party,” she replied excitedly. “We haven’t had company in an awfully long time.”
“Whatever. If you want to, then that’s fine.” Mitch circled two dates on the sheet. “Either of these days would be good. Just don’t invite them over too early, okay? Better make it for any time after six o’clock, just in case I get a call during the day.”
“That’s fine, honey,” Denise replied, jotting this all down. “I’ll take care of it and call Shelly to set it up.”
“Fine. Don’t expect me to cook for this, though.”
“Oh, okay,” Denise stammered. “I don’t mind. Anything in particular you’d like me to make?”
“I don’t care. Make whatever you want.”
“All right,” Denise replied softly. “I’ll think of something.” She returned to the kitchen and continued cleaning. Housework had become her best source of stress management, lately. Denise cleaned the countertops vigorously until they shone. She swept and mopped the kitchen and dining room floors, and straightened out the tablecloth and placemats.
“Denise, would you get me another cup of coffee?” Mitch called from the living room.
“Sure, Mitch,” she responded, trying not to let her resentment come through in her voice. “I’ll be right there.” Denise retrieved his coffee mug from the cluttered, cigarette ash laden computer desk, and tried to hide her disgust. She refilled the mug, added the proper amount of sugar and creamer, and handed it to him. Mitch took the mug without even looking up from the computer screen, and didn’t bother to thank Denise.
“Have you finished the laundry yet?” he asked her absently. “I’m running out of clean jeans and shirts for work.”
“It’s in the dryer now, Mitch,” Denise sighed. “You know I wouldn’t let you run out of work clothes,” she answered timidly.
“What the hell is your problem?” Mitch’s eyes flashed with anger. “I just asked a simple question for crying out loud. I don’t need your attitude.”
“Mitch, when have I ever not done the laundry and the housework, for God’s sake?” Denise hurled back at her husband. “Maybe you wouldn’t get so much attitude from me if you helped me out around here once in a while, and didn’t spend all your free time on that stupid computer!” She turned angrily and rushed out of the room. Time to clean the bathroom, she thought to herself. Good time to do that. Mitch flew after her, grabbed her by the elbow and spun her around to face him.
“How dare you!” he snarled at her. “How dare you speak to me that way! I work my ass off for you, and this is the thanks I get? Typical. I don’t see you working outdoors in the cold and the snow and the rain. You could never do what I do for a living, so don’t you dare give me any crap about relaxing in the evenings. It’s not my fault you can’t keep up with the house.” Denise winced in pain, and her arm was turning red where he clutched her tightly.
“Mitch, let go,” she squealed in agony, “you’re hurting me!” Denise’s eyes filled with utter terror from her husband’s outburst.
“That’s the only way I can ever seem to get your attention, Denise, so stop your whining. It’s your own damned fault.” Mitch flung her away from him. “I’m going out. The house had better be spotless when I get home or you’re really in for it.” With that, he snatched up his coat and keys, slamming the door behind him, as usual.
Denise fell to the floor sobbing uncontrollably. She didn’t know what to do. He didn’t work any harder than she did. He worked only forty hours a week or less, while she worked nearly fifty or more herself every week. Plus, she was now four months pregnant and he never lifted a finger to help her with the housework. She felt a sharp twinge of pain in her abdomen, and shrieked. Denise scrambled to find the phone, and dialed 9-1-1. The ambulance screamed into the driveway in no time at all, and the paramedics rushed in to see what might be wrong.
After much interrogation, poking, prodding and listening, the EMT’s decided it would be best to admit Denise to the hospital for further observations to be safe. One of the attendants noticed the fingerprints on Denise’s arm, and frowned.
“Mrs. Farber, what happened here?” He searched her face as she responded.
“Oh, that?” Denise stammered. “I was washing the countertops in the kitchen and tripped over the cat,” she managed a weak smile, “and my husband caught my arm to keep me from hurting myself.” She wasn’t sure the emergency worker believed her, but she tried to maintain the lie.
“I see,” he murmured. “Where is your husband now?”
“He went out for a while. Probably to his best friend’s house to watch the game.”
“Ma’am, you look like you have been crying. Is everything okay here?”
“Oh, yes, sir!” Denise spoke up right away. “The pain from the baby spooked me so much that I became quite emotional. I’m just fine now.”
“I see,” he replied again. “Well, let’s get you to the hospital now. I’ll give your husband a call when we get there.”
After the doctors examined Denise thoroughly, they decided the pain she had experienced was the result of Braxton Hicks contractions, which are very common throughout pregnancy. They cleared her for returning home, but had been unable to locate Mitch. Denise called Anne to come pick her up at the hospital to bring her home. To the women’s dismay, Mitch was already home when they arrived. He flew from the house in a worse rage than before, screaming at her in the yard.
“Where the hell have you been?” he yelled, loudly enough for the neighbors to hear. “Do you have any idea what time it is? The house is still a mess! I told you it had better be clean when I got home or there would be hell to pay. Now get your lazy ass in there and clean up that mess!” Mitch waved his arms madly as he screamed at her, then grabbed his wife and pushed her toward the house. Denise stumbled and fell face down onto the walkway, crying. “Get up and stop your damned crying. I told you what would happen if I came home to a mess.”
“Mitch!” Anne screeched as she jumped to help Denise to her feet again. “I just picked her up at the hospital because no one could locate you! Leave her alone, for God’s sake, she is pregnant!” Anne’s eyes flashed with anger and hatred for Mitch at that very moment. “Keep this up and she will probably lose the baby.”
“Maybe that would be best. She can’t keep up with the housework now without whining at me. There’s no way she could ever take care of a baby, too.” He turned his back on the women. “I’m leaving. I’ll deal with you when I get home.” And with that, Mitch climbed into his truck and peeled out of the drive again.

'Til Death - Chapter 1, part two

At five o’clock sharp the next morning, the alarm clock’s incessant beeping jolted a weary Denise from a deep, yet unsatisfying sleep.  She swatted the snooze button groggily, and rubbed her eyes in a vain attempt to revive herself.  She rolled over and gently shook her husband.

“Mitch!  Mitch, it’s five o’clock.  You’ve got to get up or you’ll be late for work.”

Mitch shrugged her off, growling.  He was worse in the morning than he was at night.  Much worse.  Denise shook him again, and then leaped out of bed.  After three years of marriage, her reflexes were polished.  She barely slipped out of reach when Mitch lunged at her.

“I heard you the first time!  I’m up already!” he barked the words at her.  “Where’s my coffee?”

“Mitch, I just got up myself!” Denise tried to be light and energetic, but her words came out in a soft whimper.

“Why are you whining at me?  Just fix the friggin’ coffee, for crying out loud!  Can’t I count on you for anything?” Mitch snarled.

Denise turned on her heel and flew out of the bedroom.  She was a whirlwind in the kitchen – grinding coffee beans, filling the coffee maker, discarding the old grounds, fumbling for Mitch’s favorite coffee cup, and making sure he hadn’t used it as an ashtray recently.  As the coffee brewed, she flew into the living room to locate the TV remote and place it on the coffee table where Mitch could easily find it.  Next, she searched through his coat and pants pockets until she found his truck keys, and hung them on the key-hook by the front door, placing his wallet on the coffee table alongside the remote. 

After that, while Mitch was in the bathroom, she flew back into the bedroom to find him clean clothes to wear to work, and laid these out on the couch.  By this time, the coffee had finished brewing, and she darted back into the kitchen to pour Mitch a cup, and fix his travel mug, as well.  Finally, she placed his morning cup on the coffee table in front of him, and set his travel mug on the end table by the front door, so he wouldn’t forget it as he left for work.  Denise improved her timing for this morning routine by a minute or two each year.  She hardly thought about it at all, anymore.  It was ritual now.  Nothing more.

Finally, Mitch left, leaving Denise to relax for an hour or so before getting ready for work herself.  As she sipped leisurely at her own cup of coffee, she remembered the pregnancy test, and bolted off the couch.  Thankfully, she’d been so preoccupied, she hadn’t relieved her bladder yet.  Denise read the directions carefully, and followed them precisely.  After three minutes, it was time to read the results.  She gripped the phone in her hand, and pressed the speed dial button for Anne’s house.

“Hello?” Anne’s muffled voice was barely audible through the receiver.  “Denise?  Is that you?”

“Yeah, Anne,” Denise’s own voice was shaking now.  “I’m sorry to wake you.”

“It’s okay, I’m up!” Anne snapped to attention.  She now remembered why Denise was calling at such an odd hour.  “Well?  What’s it say?”

“It says I’m pregnant,” Denise choked back the fear welling up in her chest.  “I’m pregnant, Anne!  What am I going to do?”  Denise sobbed uncontrollably.  “Of all things!  He’s going to kill me.  Anne, I’m terrified!” Denise rambled on, “I can’t leave him now!” Her knees folded underneath her, and she collapsed into a sobbing heap on the bathroom floor.

“Denise!” Anne spoke sharply.  “Pull yourself together, hun!  C’mon.  Relax.  The first thing you are going to do,” Anne ordered, “is to call the doctor’s office and get an appointment to verify the test results.”

“They don’t open until nine!”

“Then call them from work, and take a long lunch if you have to.  You need to make sure the test is right.” Anne paused.  “Who knows, Denise, maybe this will shape him up.  Stranger things have happened, right?”

“Maybe,” Denise replied, weary.  “But I doubt it.  This will probably just make him worse.  He might really snap.”

“Don’t assume the worst, yet.  Give it a chance.”

“I guess you’re right,” Denise breathed.  “I hope you’re right.”

She was able to book an appointment as soon as the office opened, and she waited anxiously for the doctor to come back into the room.  She sat on the examining table, swinging her feet in anticipation.  It seemed like hours before Dr. Rose finally knocked and entered the room.

“Congratulations!” she beamed.  “You are definitely going to be a mother!”  Dr. Rose raised her eyebrows and a confused expression spread across her face when Denise burst into tears.  “Is everything all right, dear?” she asked her patient softly.

“Yes, I’m sorry, Dr. Rose,” came the tearful response.  “It’s just that my husband doesn’t know yet, and money’s been tight lately.  I’m afraid he’s not going to be very happy to hear that now we have a baby on the way.”

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear he’s going to be a father,” Dr. Rose reassured her, gently squeezing her hand.  “It will all work itself out.  Don’t you worry.”  The doctor’s gentleness was comforting.  Aside from Anne, Denise really didn’t have anyone to turn to.  She managed a weak smile.

“Thank you, Doctor.  I’ll be okay.”

When she returned to work, she called Anne with the news right away.  Her friend’s voice mail picked up, so Denise left a message.  Within minutes, Anne returned her call.

“It’s confirmed,” Denise told her flatly.  “I’m scared.”

“All things considered, I don’t blame you,” Anne replied.  “So, what’s the plan?”

“I think I’m going to leave work early, and leave a note for Mitch at work.  It’s not exactly how I imagined telling my husband we’re expecting, but with his temper, I think it’s best this way.  What do you think?”

“I hate to say it, but I think you’re right.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do.  Call me later, okay?”

“I will, hun, I promise.”

Denise finished some of her work and left the office early.  She wrote Mitch a brief note explaining the circumstances, and drove to the landscaping company where he worked.  She stuck the note under the windshield wiper of the truck, and turned back toward her vehicle.  She waved to some of Mitch’s co-workers who were in the parking lot, loading up the work trucks for their next account.  She climbed back into the car, and rode home deep in thought.

Denise planned a special, romantic dinner setting for that evening.  She prepared baked rosemary chicken, garnished with a delicately flavored white wine sauce, and fresh steamed vegetables.  A bottle of sparkling apple cider chilled in the ice bucket, and freshly cut flowers permeated the house with their tantalizing fragrance.  The stage was set.  Now, all that remained was Mitch’s entrance.  Denise paced the dining room floor anxiously.  The shrill ring of the telephone broke the silence, and caused her to jump slightly.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me.  Is he home yet?  Have you heard from him, at all?” Anne’s anxiety was almost as bad as her own.  “Well, what’s happening?”

“Slow down, slow down,” Denise chuckled nervously.  “He’s not home, no, I haven’t heard from him at all, and nothing is happening at this very moment,” she replied.  “I cooked a romantic dinner to sort of punctuate this whole thing, and he’s not even here.  Oh, hold on, I’m getting beeped.”  Denise clicked over for the call waiting.

“Hello?”

“Denise!” Mitch breathed.  “I’m so glad I caught you, sweetheart.  I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you dropped off your note.”

“That’s okay, Mitch, I know how busy you are.”

“Did you get this confirmed at the doctor’s?  Is it really true?” He actually sounded happy and excited!  Denise could barely believe her ears.

“Yes, I took a test this morning, and I didn’t want to worry you in case it was nothing, but the test was positive.  I went to the doctor’s this morning to confirm it, and it’s real.”  She paused, not daring to breathe.  “Are you happy, Mitch?”

“Of course I’m happy, darling!” Mitch cooed.  “We’re going to have a baby.  That’s the best news I’ve heard all day!  I’m at the shop, now, but I’ll be home in about twenty minutes.  Do you want to go out to celebrate?”  Denise tried to keep a straight face.

“Why don’t we talk about it when you get home?”

“Okay, honey.  I love you.”  Denise clicked the phone again, unsure if Anne was still holding.

“Anne?  Are you still there?”

“Yes, of course I am.  Was it Mitch?”

“Um, well… I think it was Mitch.”

“What do you mean ‘you think it was Mitch’?  Was it, or wasn’t it?” Anne’s confusion was apparent in her tone of voice.  “What the hell happened?”

“He said he was happy, and he’s excited that we’re having a baby.  He said it’s the best news he’s heard all day.”  There was a brief pause before Anne replied.

“I see what you mean.  It couldn’t have been Mitch.” Denise and Anne chuckled together.  “How are you doing?”

“I’m actually doing better, now that he didn’t blow his stack at me,” Denise replied.  “I don’t dare let my guard down, though.  Not yet.”

“Understandable.  But maybe this is just what the two of you needed to save your marriage.  You think?” Anne queried.

“It’s possible,” Denise sighed.  “I’ll believe it when I see it though.  Sometimes he’s different on the phone than he is when he’s home.  I mean, the guys were probably standing right there, being nosey.  What’s he supposed to do?  Insult me and verbally abuse me in front of them like he does when he’s here with me?”  She shuddered.  “I’m not out of the woods on this one, yet.  I’ll let you know how it goes.  If not tonight, then I’ll call tomorrow from work.”

“Deal.  Later.”

“Later, Anne.  Thanks for being there for me.”

“Don’t mention it.  That’s what friends are for.”

Denise paced the living room floor now, waiting for Mitch to arrive.  She heard the truck pull into the driveway, and took a deep breath, letting it out very slowly.  “Here goes nothing,” she muttered nervously.

Mitch threw the front door open, took Denise around the waist and hugged her tightly to his chest as he picked her up and swung her around.  Denise was flabbergasted!  This wasn’t at all like him.  She truly expected him to burst into the house and begin screaming and throwing things at her, as was customary for his fits of anger.  Maybe Anne was right, she thought incredulously.  Maybe this is exactly what our relationship needed, after all.

“We’re having a baby!” Mitch sang the words.  “I’m so happy!  Are you happy, hun?” he glanced at his wife with genuine concern in his eyes.  “You seem sad.  What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart,” she replied timidly.  “I was worried at first that you might not be happy, but I can see I was wrong,” Denise’s eyes glowed for the first time in years.  “So, now I’m not worried at all.  I’m ecstatic!”  She beamed at her husband.  Mitch paused, sniffing the aroma that wafted from the kitchen.

“Mmm… What smells so good?” his eyes actually twinkled, something they rarely did.  “What have you done to make this place smell so luscious?”  Denise took his hand gently and led him into the kitchen to see the romantic spread she had labored over to celebrate the occasion.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she stammered, still unsure of this unusual reaction from Mitch.  “It never crossed my mind that you might want to go out.”

“You sweet, sweet woman!” Mitch’s face lit up at the scene.  “I’m such a lucky man to have married such a wonderful woman!”  He kissed her cheek softly.  “I don’t mind at all.  We’ll go out tomorrow night, instead, if you feel up to it.  Now, you relax on the couch while I get cleaned up, and I will serve this beautiful meal to my even more beautiful wife.”

Denise still couldn’t believe the change in her husband.  She felt a weight being lifted off her shoulders and thought to herself, maybe everything will really be okay now.  Maybe this is a sign that our marriage only needed another chance.  I’ll just have to try harder now to keep it going smoothly.  Perhaps there’s still a chance for us, yet!  Happily, she sank back onto the couch to relax until Mitch was ready to begin eating.

'Til Death

Chapter One, Part One:

“I’m sure it’s only due to stress,” Denise told Anne on the phone that evening.  “Stress can delay it up to two weeks, or skip it altogether, right?”

“You could be right,” replied Anne calmly, “but it would be better to take a test and be sure.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Denise sighed.  “I’ll pick one up when I’m at the store later.  I’ll call you in the morning, when I have the results, okay?”

“Okay.  Y’know, I probably won’t sleep all night.  Can’t you do it tonight?” 

“Well, they say the tests are most accurate first thing in the morning, so I’ll wait and do it right, if I’m going to do it all.  Besides, I don’t want Mitch to stress out if it’s nothing.”

“All right, all right.  Call me right away, okay?”

“I will.  Bright and early.”

Denise hung up the phone and went back to her cooking.  She knew there would be hell to pay if dinner wasn’t on the table when her husband walked through the door at five o’clock.  Assuming, of course, that he wasn’t running late.  Again.

Denise Farber was a petite young woman, twenty-eight years old, weighing in at only one-hundred-and-two pounds.  Her straight auburn hair flowed down her back, resting just above her waist.  Her round, green eyes reflected the fear brewing inside her due to her current plight, but paled in comparison to the sheen of her silky locks.  Her tiny frame was lean and muscular.  Looking at her, one could easily tell she had been a dancer and very athletic most of her life.  Denise was a strikingly attractive woman, yet the misery her marriage clouded her beauty, and her latest predicament only added fuel to an already raging fire.

Her period was two weeks late, which wasn’t normal, especially considering how long she had been on the pill.  Her cycle was like clockwork, so even only two weeks late was a cause for concern.  Denise called her best friend, Anne Reilly, in a panic; afraid she might be pregnant.  With things as tense as they had been, over this past year especially, stress could likely be the cause, she thought.  She heard the front door open, and cringed.  Dammit, she thought, he’s early for once. It’s barely four thirty!  Frantically, she whisked the roast out of the oven and placed it on the serving mat in the center of the dining room table.

“Denise!” Mitch barked from the front foyer.  “Where are you?”

“I’m in the dining room,” she replied, trying to sound happy he was home.  The truth was, she was only happy when he wasn’t home.  “You’re home early.  What a nice surprise,” Denise forced herself to smile at her husband.  “How was work?”

“Same shit, different day,” he growled, entering the kitchen.  Mitch Farber towered over his wife, standing a bold six feet to her not quite five feet tall.  His dark eyes were brooding and foreboding.  His blond-streaked brown hair resembled a rat’s nest on a good day, and the texture was similar to straw.  After a long day’s work in landscaping, his appearance easily passed for that of a madman.

“Roast?” he snarled viciously.  “Why are we having roast again?  Can’t you cook anything beside roast?”  His eyes flashed with anger as he hurled the roasting pan at her.  “I’m sick of roast!  Pick up this mess and get me something else to eat.”

“Honey,” Denise stammered, trying to hold back the tears, “we haven’t had roast for at least a month.”

“I told you,” Mitch snapped back, backhanding her across the cheek.  “I’m sick of eating pot roast.  You can never fucking cook it right, anyway – it’s always friggin dry and frankly tastes like shit. You’re fucking useless. I don’t know why I put up with your bullshit!!  Forget it.  I’ll go grab something at McDonald’s.”

“U-u-m. Ok. H-How long do you think you’ll be?”

“I’ll be home when I get home.  Don’t ask me stupid questions.”  He glanced around the dining room with an evil glint in his eyes.  “If this mess isn’t gone when I get home, you’ll get worse than that little slap, too.  So get to work!” 

With that, Mitch stormed out the front door.  The house shook when he slammed the door behind him. Some of Denise’s delicate ceramic figurines flew off the display shelf nearby and shattered on the floor into tiny pieces.  Angrily, she brushed the tears from her eyes, and reached for the dustpan under the kitchen sink.    “Great,” she muttered to herself.  “Even more mess to clean up.”  In a matter of moments, she heard his truck squealing down the street while she tidied up. 

“Someday, I hope I can have nice things that won’t be broken in his tirades!”  Denise dried her eyes, and put away the dust pan and brush.  “Well, at least he’s gone for a while,” she muttered to herself.  “Oh, god, I hope I’m not pregnant!  How can I raise a child with that monster?”  Denise cleaned the roast off the dining room floor and cleared the table.  She mopped the floor and put out the garbage.  “Now at least I can get the marketing done, without hearing him gripe about me going out.”  She sniffled, then sighed.  “Better make it quick, or he’ll just throw a tantrum because I’ve been gone too long.”

Relief washed over Denise when she returned from the store.  Mitch’s truck was still gone.  Phew, she thought, I beat him home.  She wrestled the bags out of the car, and fumbled to unlock the front door.  She pulled the pregnancy test out first, and hid it, burying it in the box of tampons beneath the bathroom vanity.  “The one place I know he’ll never snoop,” she whispered softly to herself.  Denise breathed deeply in an attempt to calm her tattered nerves, and scurried off to put away the rest of groceries.

Denise called Anne as she organized and put away the groceries.

“Can you come over for a few minutes? Mitch and I had another, uh, ‘episode’. He’s gone and I could use the company.”

“Oh, no! Denise, are you okay? I’ll be right over!”

“I’m fine. Thanks, Anne.  See you shortly.”

As she hung up the phone, the doorbell rang.

‘Oh, no! Did the neighbors hear us again?’ she thought to herself, embarrassed. She opened the door to find her neighbor, Melanie Roth, standing on the porch with coffee cakes, and her husband Ralph holding a pot of freshly brewed coffee.

Denise opened the door, “Ralph, Melanie, please come in! Thank you for the coffee and snacks. How thoughtful. Anne is on her way, too. We’ll just have a little party!”

Melanie entered first. She stood slightly taller than Denise, about five foot two inches, and was not quite as thin as Denise, although by no means a large woman. She had short black hair, a delicate face, with brown eyes the color of cappuccino with just a touch of cream. Ralph, on the other hand, stood about five feet eight inches tall, with light brown hair and hazel eyes. His rugged good looks and powerful smile radiated with kindness.

“That sounds great,” Melanie said. “We couldn’t help noticing that Mitch left in a huff and thought you could use some company.”

“That’s so nice of you both! Thank you. Let me a get a hotplate and the coffee cups.”

The friends sat, ate and drank their coffee, making small talk until Anne arrived. Anne stood only an inch shorter than Ralph, slender and curvy in all the right places, with long blond hair reaching to her buttocks. Her sparkling light blue eyes completed the picture – her natural beauty made her look like a model. Anne noticed the bruise on Denise’s cheek.

“Denise! He hit you! Come here! Let me see that bruise.” She gently examined Denise’s cheek. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”

“I’m sure. I’m fine. It’s a little tender, but okay.”

“Denise, we’ve talked about this before. You have to leave him!” Melanie stated firmly. “You deserve better than this.”

“I know we’ve talked about this, and I’ve told you: my folks disowned me and won’t let me come home. Furthermore, I have no access to money. My name is on the account so I can deposit paychecks and stuff, but I’m not an authorized signer and can’t withdraw anything. I don’t even have a debit card!”

“How do you grocery shop or even put gas in your car?” Ralph asked.

“He gives her cash,” Anne replied, “then demands the receipt and change. He makes sure there’s no discrepancy.”

 “What about when you deposit your own paycheck? Can’t you request cash back?” Melanie asked.

“Nope,” Denise answered. “He takes the deposit slip and my paycheck stub. I am not ALLOWED to have money.”

“What about your in-laws? Won’t they help you?” Ralph inquired.

“No. I’ve tried. They won’t go against their son.” Denise sighed. “It’s hopeless. I’ve shown them the bruises and hand prints, but they don’t believe he’d do that to me. They see him through rose-colored glasses. He can do no wrong in their eyes.” She paused, reflecting. “They don’t like me anymore because they think I’m trying to ruin his life for fun.”

“All that and now this,” Anne glanced at Denise. “Have you told them yet?”

“Told us what?” Melanie asked, confused.

“My period is two weeks late,” Denise dropped her gaze to her hands. “I might be pregnant. I’m taking a test in the morning.”

“Oh my god!” Melanie cried. “You HAVE to leave him NOW! You can’t raise a child with that… that… man!”

“My baby needs a father,” Denise countered. “Besides, we have established that I have no way to leave and nowhere to go. Plus, he’s made it very clear he’ll never let me go! So, that sort of ends this conversation,” she said firmly. “Besides, Mitch might be home soon and he won’t be happy that I have company. I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Ralph answered. “We need to get ready to turn in anyway so we can work tomorrow.”

“Same here,” Anne agreed.

“Thank you all for coming,” Denise said graciously, hugging each of her guests. “I really needed this!”

“Anytime,” Melanie and Anne responded in unison.

After everyone left, Denise quickly did the dishes and went to take a hot bubble bath to relax herself as much as possible. Then she snuggled into bed for the night. 

Around midnight, she heard Mitch’s truck pull into the drive.  She closed her eyes, and pretended to be asleep.  She hoped her charade would work.  Why am I worried, she thought to herself.  It always works.  Minutes later, Mitch climbed into bed beside her, and promptly fell asleep.