Enough

"What do you think you're doing?"

She knew it was over when she saw the plate go flying by her and land inches from her daughter’s head. Vicki ran to her daughter, “Sarah, are you okay? Did he hit you?”

Between whimpers, “No, mom, it missed. I’m okay. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Sarah could tell her mother was beyond angry. Vicki’s voice was barely above a whisper when she told Sarah, “Go visit your friends. Your dad and I need to talk.”

When Sarah was gone, Vicki turned on her husband in fury, “Are you out of your mind? That just missed her head!” She prepared herself for the onslaught to come and did not back down when he started in with his insults and degrading remarks. And she gave it back as good as she got. Yet, she was still surprised when he charged at her.

“You better make it a good one.”

Something about the glint in her eye and the lack of fear in her voice made Harley relax his grip on her throat and drop his fist. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

“I bet you don’t. Who’s Carol?”

“What?”

“Isn’t she the one you have been sleeping with? The one you ‘got into’? The one that gets you so worked up you lose your mind?”

Harley dropped his head and wandered to the other side of the living room, crunching broken plate fragments into the flooring as he went. Vicki knew he was probably working his mouth to come up with something that would make a difference. There were no words. She was only mildly surprised when he settled for the truth: “How did you know?”

Harley could tell Vicki was well past fury and no longer feared him. She was resolute. In that infuriating matter of fact tonality that only she could pull off, she said, “My doctor told me he thought you were up to something because I was getting so many yeast infections. Then a woman called here and when I answered, she said, ’Oh, I must have dialed the wrong number.’ I said, ‘Oh, I think you know exactly what number you dialed.’ Then she slammed the phone down. As long as you’re over there, bring the broom and dustpan over here.”

“I meant, how did you know it was Carol?” Harley said, as he handed her the broom and bent to hold the dust pan for her.

“She forgot we had caller ID, I guess. And it’s not only Carol, now, is it? She’s just the one that wanted to tell on you.”

Harley swallowed hard and shook his head in fake remorsefulness as he concentrated on making sure the dustpan was held just right for the sweep up.

“And I knew she would be the one you fought for because she is the only one with enough money to satisfy your spending habits. You like to think I’m stupid, but I have your number. You will be hearing from my lawyer.”

Harley tried a different tactic, looked deep into her eyes, “I paid for this house. I’m keeping it.” He was so smug. He emptied the broken shards into the dustbin and turned back to face his wife.

Vicki looked at him with true pity in her eyes, “That’s typical. You seem to forget you have a daughter. Where does she figure into your money grabbing?”

“She’s 14. She is old enough to choose where she wants to stay.”

“I meant you chose this house over your daughter, you idiot.”

Vicki was done talking. She went to the radio and stopped the channel surfing when she heard ‘I walk alone’ over and over. “This is now our song you jerk.”

Harley tried again, “I will end it with Carol. I think I know what I did wrong.”

Enough was enough. Replacing the broom in the closet would be her last act of cleaning up after this fool. Vicki skewered him with hate-filled eyes and cranked up the radio.

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one and I walk alone

[Inspiration: Boulevard of Broken Dreams for the "Invalid Item" ]

[Word count: 699]