Richard smelled of sun and sweat and gunpowder. He stepped out of the car and felt too weary to climb the stairs to his home. It was sunset now, the shadows crawling towards him across the sidewalk. A passerby would see a young man, in his prime they'd think, with smooth jet black hair and piercing grey eyes. He was tall and lithe but his shoulders sagged and it seemed as if the slightest breeze might carry him away. His suit was wrinkled. He held an unlit cigarette in his mouth.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was tired. He stood on the curb, unable to push one foot in front of the other. Even out of his uniform, he felt the phantom weight of the Kevlar vest pushing down on his shoulders. He reached up and combed his hair backwards with his fingertips, brushing a few stray strand back into place, unconsciously worried that he might look as haggard as he felt. The lights were on in the windows. Eva was probably cooking dinner. He tucked the cigarette back into his pocket. Even the act of breathing deeply seemed too tiresome. Rachel, little Rachel, was probably waiting for him… He felt a lump form in his throat. His chest squeezed hard around his heart. He finally found the strength to enter his home.
"Daddy!" Rachel shouted as soon as the door opened, the weight of her hitting him around the knees. He nearly toppled over but caught himself on the doorframe.
"Rach!" He said back, a smile finding its way onto his face. He picked her up and held her high in the air. At three years old, she felt as light as a feather in his arms. He pulled her into his chest and kissed her. Her wispy brunette hair tickled his face. She smelt of crayon wax and earth and all the trappings of childhood. He suddenly had the idea that he would never put her down again. So, swinging her to his hip, she clung to his neck and he stepped all the way into the foyer and shut the door behind him. She began to squirm.
"Down! Down!" She demanded. Richard's heart fell.
"Don't you want to see your Daddy?" He asked but she'd already wriggled free and he gently lowered her to the ground. She sped off and disappeared into the kitchen. Eva appeared. She tried a small smile but he didn't believe it.
"I saw the news." Was all she said. Richard's jaw tightened and he nodded. She added "Dinner is almost done."
Rachel reappeared and ran circles around Richard's legs. She babbled in half-formed sentences and barely intelligible words. She jumped up and clutched his hand in hers, leading him to the couch. He sank into the well-worn cushions at her demands. She leapt into his lap, nuzzling against his neck. There was a moment of stillness. Richard felt, fleetingly, as if the horrors of his day were some faraway dream. Maybe none of it was real after all. He looked down at Rachel. He laid his arms around her, the warmth of her seeping into him. Oh, Rachel.
"Dinner." Eva called softly, laying covered dishes on the table. The two of them joined her.
"It smells good." Richard said, feeling his spirits lift a little. Eva was no great cook but he was so hungry that almost anything would taste like a feast to him.
"I made fish and rice." She said "With some cakes for dessert."
"Daddy, look!" Rachel shouted, grabbing a pair of chopsticks. Slowly, his round face curled in concentration, she clumsily used them to lift a piece of fish off her plate.
"Wow!" Richard said. Rachel beamed in response. Eva sighed happily.
"She's been practicing all day. She was just determined to use them. Once she sets her mind to something, there's no stopping her." Eva said.
"Well, I know who she gets that from." Richard teased lightly, looking over the rim of his cup at his young wife. Eva blushed. She was truly beautiful, he thought. Her hair was unkempt and her clothes disheveled from the work of motherhood. She wasn't wearing make-up, something that was unheard of prior to the birth of their daughter. But with the duties of the home, Rachel, and trying to finish her law degree, Eva had changed. She'd become so much more than he'd had ever thought was possible for a single woman to be. Richard was in awe. He was also desperately in love.
Richard took a bite of his dinner. It was undercooked and over salted. He made no mention of it and continued to eat. Rachel struggled to eat without a spoon, dropping food onto her lap and the floor. Richard laughed and offered her a bit of his own fish, held securely in his chopsticks. Rachel smiled and ate it from his chopsticks, as she had when she was baby.
"You'll spoil her doing that." Eva said only half-sriously, taking a sip of tea. Richard felt a bolt of anger run through him. It flashed so quick and hot that it burned up every other feeling he had inside of him. He snapped.
"She's my daughter. You trying to tell me I can't share my dinner with my own daughter?" He demanded angrily. Eva was taken aback but scowled back at him.
"That's not what I said, Richard." She said coldly "She's simply old enough to feed herself."
Richard growled and felt the anger bloom in his chest. He slammed his chopsticks on the table, making the dishes clatter.
"What do you know?" His voice got louder. He felt his body tense. "I'm her father. I'm the man of the house and I'll do as I please, Eva! I don't come home from work to be bossed around, you know."
"I wasn't-" She started but Richard stood up. He towered over the table, his fists clenched.
"All of a sudden, I've lost my appetite." He spat. Walking to the kitchen, he removed the six-pack of beer from the fridge and stormed into the bedroom. He slammed the door and fell on the bed. He opened one of the cans and gulped down the entire thing. He realized he was shaking.
After dinner, Eva bathed Rachel and put her to bed. Richard remained closed in the bedroom the entire time. Not a sound came from behind the door. Once Rachel was sleeping soundly, Eva knocked and entered their shared bedroom.
Richard was still sitting where he had thrown himself down on the bed. Five of the beer cans lay crumpled and dripping at his feet. One hand clutched the last can and the other hand cradled his head. It was dark. He hadn't even turned on a lamp. Eva couldn't see his face. There was a long silence.
"I'm sorry, Eva." Richard finally slurred, barely audible. "I don't know what got into me."
"I know exactly what got into you." Eva answered. Her tone was cool but not cruel.
"Yeah…" Richard took a long draught from the can and dropped it to his feet with the others. It echoed hollowly against the carpet and there was silence again.
"I saw on the news…That man…Do you want to talk about it?" Eva said.
"No..." Richard said. There was a hitch in his voice. He covered his face with both hands and his shoulders began to shake. Eva stepped to the bed and sat beside him. From behind his hands, thick with tears, Richard said "There was nothing I could do."
Ave put her arms around him now and made hushing noises. He'd been a police officer for less than a year and the nights were getting harder and harder, especially after Rachel was born. Eva wasn't sure how to help. Richard wasn't sure she could. After a few moments, he was able to gather his words. He wiped his eyes on his cuff and looked down at his feet.
"They called me and McGuire out to the scene." He explained "It was supposed to be routine and easy for us rookies to handle on our own. Simple noise complaint. A neighbor had called in saying they'd been hearing firecrackers all morning."
Richard could see everything so clearly in his mind. The red brick house radiating heat from the afternoon sun. The weight of his Kevlar pulling down on him. McGuire walking up the sidewalk with him. This man must simply have been having some fun, they thought, no big deal. They were laughing, even joking as they approached the door. The air was hot and still. The grass was lush and fragrant. Richard could feel the sweat collecting at the band of his cap.
A small man opened the door, looking shyly up at Richard and McGuire. They politely asked to come in, to discuss the noise complaint. He led them to a cozy living room. He served them ice water. The house smelled of bleach and incense.
"What's this complaint?" The man asked anxiously. Richard was scanning the room and McGuire explained the phone call they had received. The man was making some gentle answer when Richard noticed it. When he felt his heart plummet.
There, on the doorframe, were three wet shiny drops of blood. He looked again at the man and saw no injury. His hackles raised and his heart began to pound. Something wasn't right. McGuire continued talking pleasantly. Richard saw a small, framed family photo. The man, a woman and small girl. A girl just about Rachel's age. There was a doll on the floor, a few scattered crayons and a coloring book.
"Sir, is your family home?" Richard asked suddenly interrupting. The man hesitated but lowered his head and answered evenly.
"No. My wife left me a week ago and I haven't heard anything from them since." He said sadly. Richard stood, McGuire followed suit. Richard knew he was lying. The house smelled of bleach, meaning someone had been cleaning. They would not have let the toys unattended. There were still several pairs of women's and child's shoes in the foyer cabinet.
"Why don't you show us the rest of the house?" Richard asked. The man hesitated again but then smiled and agreed. Richard should have known then. He should have been more prepared. He should have read that smile for what it was.
As they toured the kitchen and office, Richard saw no other signs of violence. They peered into the bathroom and he saw it. He was women's hair products and three toothbrushes on the sink. The faucet was dripping, the handle had not been fully turned off. There were soap bubbles in the sink and he smelled the bleach more pungently. The man showed them the door to the master bedroom.
"That's the last room of the house." He said, still smiling. "You're welcome to have a look."
Richard sat beside Eva in the dark of their bedroom. She held his hand, only. He wanted to throw himself around her. Smell the musk of her perfume, feel the satin of her skin, do anything to disappear out of his own self. He couldn't bring himself to even touch her.
"I should have known." Richard told her, feeling the anger rise again "All the signs were right in front of me. I should have known that bastard had something up his sleeve."
"I had no idea the child was so young." Eva said, feeling the sting of tears in her own eyes. "Rachel's age. The news didn't say…"
When Richard opened the door, the stench overwhelmed him and he saw the wife and the daughter in a pool of blood on the bed. Each had been shot multiple times The little girl, brunette, in yellow overalls and a pink shirt. Her feet were bare and clean They hadn't been going anywhere. Richard didn't hesitate and turned on the man, his gun pulled, but the man had already produced a handgun and had it aimed right at them. He began to laugh.
"Didn't I tell you?" He cackled "She left me! She left me and she tried to take our daughter too."
"Put your weapon down!" Richard shouted, heart pounding in his ears. He watched the man's finger hovering over the trigger. He could feel rather than see that McGuire also had his gun pulled and was radioing for immediate back up. "11-99!" His gruff voice called over the radio "11-99!"
"Don't you see?" He ranted "That lying no good whore and her lying no good daughter! They didn't deserve me. I did the whole country a favor by getting rid of them. I'm the only one that could put up with them. Once I shoot you, the other officers won't have any choice but to open fire on me and I'll be with them both again."
"Sir, just listen-" McGuire's soothing voice came naturally, as if he were speaking to a close friend. He tried his best to speak gently to the man and convince him to lower his weapon. Richard could see the man's eyes were wild and kept his gun trained on his heart. The man swung his own handgun erratically between them.
"Goodbye officers." He said and raised the gun. Richard fired.
"Suspect down." He called over his radio as the man's body slumped against the wall. His ears were ringing. "I repeat, suspect down. "
When the other officers arrived, they found McGuire alone in front of the house and Richard in the bedroom. The girl's body was riddled with new blood and old bruises, as was her mother's . This had not been momentary violence. This was the short end to a sad life and Richard had done nothing. There was nothing he could do. Now he only stood, holding her small hand in his.
"That's terrible." Eva said "Poor dears."
"How could any sort of man do that to his daughter?" Richard asked, looking at her. In the dark, her face was only shadows and the reflection of her glasses.
"I don't have an answer for you Richard." Eva said honestly. Richard felt the sting of her words harder than he expected. She went on "I'm glad you came home safe." He stood up and wiped his face. The beer cans clattered around his feet.
"Is Rachel asleep?" He asked. Eva assured him she was. He stumbled out of their bedroom and into hers. A nightlight illuminated her room. Nestled under her pink and yellow blanket, Rachel was indeed fast asleep. Her hair was disheveled around her face. A small cat plush hugged tightly to her chest. Richard ran his hands over his face again and sat on the edge of her bed. He resisted the urge to reach for her, afraid to wake her up. Eva entered the room and sat beside him.
"She is growing up so fast." Eva whispered.
"When'd she get so big?" Richard replied in a low voice. Eva draped her arms around Richard again and they sat for a long time together, watching her dream.
"She's a good kid." Richard said finally.
"I love you." Eva said, not offering it as a platitude or comfort. It was an affirmation, a reassurance. He leaned forward and kissed her deeply for a long moment.
"I love you, too." He said.
Richard laid next to Rachel. He couldn't stop seeing the small bloodied girl in his mind. He couldn't stop imagining the terror she must have felt in her last moments or what the sounds of her screams must have been. Yet, he was his own little girl perfect and safe. Was he doing everything he could to protect her? Was he a good dad at all? He knew that he drank and gambled and leered after women. He stayed out too late on Friday nights and smoked too much. He argued with Eva when he shouldn't. Was he doing anything right? Would she ever know how much he loved them both?
He finally succumbed to the exhaustion of his day. He fell asleep, a deep peaceful sleep without dreams, lying on the small bed, one arm laid protectively across his daughter.
He loved Eva.
He loved Rachel.
This, at least, he understood.