"I learned a new flip at the gym yesterday," Deborah told Rey as they got the girls ready for church Sunday morning.
"Oh yeah?" Rey finished tying a bow around his eldest daughter's ponytail, hoping that somehow she'd manage to not lose the ribbons this time.
"Can I try it out on you?"
"Sure."
"For real though, not just practice."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, try to flip you for real, like sparring."
"You can't flip me."
"Why not?"
He hid a patronizing smile. "I am a cop, I've had some training in self-defense too, you know. And I'm what, a foot taller than you?" he said as he washed Serena's hands. How she'd managed to get jam on them between the playroom and the washroom was a mystery he didn't care to explore right now. They'd probably find a piece of dusty, jammy, moldy bread hidden behind a couch or something in a week or so. Deborah crossed her arms and looked at him, lips pursed, as he struggled with Serena at the sink. "I'm not done, sweetie, don't go yet."
"But Isabel got my Tigger-"
"She won't hurt him. Hold still while I wash your hands so you don't get jam all over him."
"You really think I can't?" Deborah asked.
"What?" he asked, distracted by Serena's squirming. "Hold still, sweetie."
"You think I can't flip you?"
"No, I don't. I know you're really good, but-"
"I was a self-defense instructor, you know."
"I know, I know, I'm not saying you can't defend yourself, I'm just saying-"
"You're saying I can't defend myself against a guy who's taller than me. Who do you think I can defend myself against, a chihuahua?"
"Look, I've seen you fight at the centre, I know you're good."
"You've seen me fight other women. Is that what you think we teach women at the centre, to defend themselves only against other women?"
"No, come on - it's just that I'm a cop, I've had training too."
"And you think your average mugger or rapist has no idea what to do, has no experience with hand-to-hand."
"No, that's not what I-"
"OK, let's make a bet." He raised his eyebrows at her, wiping Serena's face with a wet towel. Jam in her hair too. Yuck. How did four-year-olds manage to find so much filth?
"What bet?"
"I bet you I can flip you."
"Deborah, come on..." he finally let Serena go, satisfied that she was as clean as she could get without another bath.
"No, I bet you two all-over house vacuumings that I can flip you. Right now."
"Now?"
"Right here, right now, pal," she started to move toys out of the way in the living room. Serena and Olivia rushed in to help, delighted. "We're not dressed for church yet and we don't have to leave for another half an hour. Plenty of time for me to show your male chauvinist butt a thing or two." He gazed at his family, amused, as the girls cleared the living room with far more enthusiasm than they did at the end of the day, when they were tidying up to get ready for bed.
"I win, you gotta do the whole house, top to bottom," Deborah told him.
"OK, and if I win?"
"Pick your price."
"You bring me breakfast in bed. Twice."
"You're on."
They faced each other.
"No holding back, either. You know I'll be able to tell."
"OK..." He made himself pretend this was not his wife, this was some perp he had to arrest. Wiped that thought out immediately - most women he arrested, he went into the arrest with a gun and no thought of self-defense in his mind. Most of them weren't violent - not hand-to-hand, anyway. OK, so let's pretend this is... a witness. A biker chick with a record for assault, who's just flipped out. You have no gun, weren't prepared for this, but now here you are, you have to take her down, and you know she's violent.
Suppressing a smile at the thought of his small, delicate wife as a tough biker chick, he saw an opening, lunged. She sidestepped neatly and jabbed him in the ribs before backing away quickly.
"Ooh - that was good," he said, impressed, rubbing his ribs. She grinned, then became deadly serious again and came at him. He deflected her punch and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him, unbalancing her and preparing to take her down. She caught her balance a lot faster than he had expected, and before he knew it she had twisted out of his grip and was up and across the room. Serena and Olivia shrieked with excitement.
Wow. They'd never done this before - they'd helped each other learn moves, but always in controlled practice, never sparring. She really was pretty good. Biker chick indeed.
"What?" she noticed his smile.
"Nothing, just... I'm imagining you as a biker chick that's just flipped out."
"I won't ask where that image comes from," she chuckled, circling. She saw an opening, lunged, then drew back just in time. He'd almost faked her out.
"Sneaky."
"Almost had you, didn't I?" he teased.
"Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades," she reminded him. He lunged, caught her, and turned to flip her, but she managed to squirm away at the last moment, almost tripping him.
"Holy sh- uh, holy moly, you really are good," he said, impressed. He'd seen her sparring before, but only with other women. It was very different facing off against her. She was a lot better than he'd thought - he upgraded his opinion from 'really good, for a girl', to just 'really really good'.
She came at him again and he grabbed her arm, trying to unbalance her again. Suddenly she was in very close, had him under one arm, and then he was going over, and then he was getting an excellent view of the ceiling, from the floor.
"Oh my god!" he exclaimed in shock, then started to laugh as the girls shrieked in delight. He looked up at Deborah, standing over him with a huge grin lighting up her face. He laughed harder, all of a sudden seeing a vivid image of himself, all six feet two inches of him, sprawled on the floor of their living room, with this tiny little delicate flower he'd married standing over him beaming triumphantly. Delicate flower my ass, he thought, and God help any biker chick who ran afoul of her. He had another sudden image of his wife taking down some of the larger and more unattractive women he'd dealt with... some of the larger and more unattractive men he'd dealt with too, for that matter, and couldn't stop laughing.
"OK, OK, you wanna try again?" Deborah asked, looking about five years old as she said it, like one of their daughters saying Can I go on the pony ride again pleeease?
"Are you nuts?" he gasped, still laughing on the floor, "I can't even stand up. I don't even know what hit me. You gotta teach me that one."
Olivia and Serena came and piled on top of him, and then the Isabel joined in too, Olivia chanting, "Mommy won, Mommy won, you have to do the vacuuming!"
He laughed and tickled them, and they squealed with glee. Deborah grinned at them, eyes twinkling, chest still heaving, before reminding them good-naturedly that they were already dressed for church and they shouldn't mess up their clothes. And that they needed to let Daddy up so he could get dressed for church too.
This was why he hadn't told Deborah about his affair, he thought as he put on his tie while Deborah ran around trying to find a good pair of nylons. This was what he had almost thrown away. All of his family here, together, the way they were supposed to be. The price was his guilt, his knowledge that he didn't actually deserve any of this. But they did. And he was used to the weight of his sin now, it didn't bother him nearly as much any more. It had taken almost five months, but he was finally able to accept what he had done. Most of the time.
ooo000ooo
If it's love that you're running from there's no hiding place
You can't run, you can't hide, you can't run, you can't
Rey wasn't a big fan of reggae, but Deborah sure liked this song and it had grown on him too. Besides, Mick Jagger and Peter Tosh did a duet on it, and you couldn't go wrong with Mick Jagger. And it had a good beat, quick, lively, easy to dance to. He and Deborah stepped back and forth together, then he stepped back from her, holding her hand, spun her around and pulled her back in. She smiled up at him and turned so that her back was to him, while he drew her in against him, their arms crossed over her stomach, swaying together, Deborah leaning her head to the side so that he could kiss her neck before pulling on the hand by her waist and spinning her around to face him again.
So if you just put your hand in mine,
We're gonna leave all our troubles behind
You're gonna walk and don't look back (don't look back)
He took her hand, grinning down at her. She liked singing along to music, and she had a pretty good voice. Too bad he couldn't sing along with her - he'd been told often enough that his speaking voice sounded pleasant, but he couldn't carry a tune. Oh well, she could sing enough for both of them.
"So I notice you didn't manage to get to the vacuuming today," she teased.
"Hey, gimme a break. I need some time to get over the blow to my ego before I tackle an all-over housecleaning." She smirked at him. "I'll do it tomorrow."
"You're working tomorrow."
"No, I forgot to tell you, I'm off. Lennie and I switched with Sanders and Clemmens. We're on call tonight though."
"You wanna take the girls to their swimming lessons then? I got some errands to run and it's faster without dragging The Horde around."
"Sure, if we don't catch any cases." He spun Deborah around. He loved this time of the day, when the girls were in bed and he and Deborah could be grown-ups without constant interruptions. They could talk without having to censor or explain themselves, dance together without three little bodies getting in the way demanding to join in... without having to keep a decorous distance in case the dance turned sensual and ended up leading them into bed.
He smiled down at Deborah, doing some mental calculations and realizing that she was at a point in her cycle where concluding this in bed wouldn't be a problem. Natural Family Planning - extremely inconvenient for part of the month, extremely nice the rest of the time. No interrupting romantic activities to find and work with various decidedly unromantic contraceptive aids. And it helped that it was the one form of birth control the Church approved of too. Deborah smiled back at him, catching the interest in his eyes and responding by drawing closer to him.
Yes, as much as he loved their daughters, life was very nice once the girls were asleep. He only hoped his pager wouldn't go off.
"Oh I forgot to tell you, I almost got into a screaming match at the church the other day," Deborah mentioned.
"Mhm?"
"Yeah. The counselors were doing some in-service training, and adultery came up."
"Yeah?" he kept his voice casual, wryly realizing that after so many months, he didn't even need to move away from her so she wouldn't be able to feel the pounding of his heart. It had taken a long time, but at least now the mere mention of infidelity didn't automatically send him into a spiral of guilt. Most of the time.
"Yeah, how to counsel adulterers," she said. You mean people like me? Rey thought. Mick Jagger bleated out,
Your past is behind you - there's nothing to remind you
Oh crap, he almost missed a step. Maybe this was a bad song to have in the background during this conversation. He closed his mind off to the lyrics and just concentrated on the beat. Didn't make any difference now - the way his mind worked these days, once he started feeling bad he could probably be listening to a damn Disney song and find lyrics in it that would fuel his guilt.
Deborah continued, "Father Galvez was talking about the standard advice we're supposed to give."
"What's that?"
"Well, if it's a one-time thing, we're supposed to say don't tell your spouse."
"Why not?" he spun her again. The standard advice. Just what Father Morelli had told him when he'd confessed.
"It's just supposed to be better all around if you just keep quiet. If it's a one-time thing and it's never gonna happen again, why put the wife through all sorts of grief for something that she shouldn't have to worry about?"
"That makes sense." It hadn't when he'd first talked to Morelli. It had gone against everything he believed in: honesty, taking responsibility for his actions, everything. He'd been ready to face Deborah, face up to what he'd done. But Morelli had talked him out of it.
She swatted him playfully. "Yeah, if you're a guy. Very convenient - 'what she doesn't know won't hurt her'. Damn patronizing, if you ask me. Good advice for cowards, too."
Yes, it was. It was also good advice for people who had children who think about, children who needed their parents to stay together, children who didn't deserve to be caught in the crossfire and pay for one parent's sin. He cast about for something to say. "What if it's the woman who's doing the cheating?"
"Doesn't happen nearly as often."
"Don't say that around Lennie," he dipped her and she laughed.
"Still same thing. You're not supposed to tell. Although I'd like to see what those patriarchal twits would say if they did get a woman confessing to having an affair."
"You don't think it's ever happened?"
"Not in this parish."
"You might be surprised." Deborah chuckled, not taking him seriously. "So the screaming match?"
"Yeah, I disagreed, and actually Sister Mirela did too. So there we were, and Father Galvez was more and more patronizing, and... I didn't handle it very well. Not terribly respectful."
"Why'd you disagree?"
"Are you kidding? It's condescending, it's dishonest. And it's humiliating to the spouse that's been cheated on."
"Not if they don't know," he stepped back from her, holding her hand as she stepped away from him, then pulling them together again.
Walk and don't look back (don't look back)
Walk and don't look back (don't look back)
"Oh give me a break. You ever did anything like that, I'd kill you."
"What, have an affair or keep quiet about it?"
"Both," she said, laughing.
The song ended and the CD player moved to the next CD. Of all things - the Pocahontas soundtrack, which Olivia had finally wheedled Deborah into buying for her. Rey and Deborah laughed and Rey moved to change the CD, but Deborah pulled him back.
"Oh come on - I am not dancing to a Disney song."
"Colours of the Wind? I like it."
"You're such a mom," Rey smiled, giving in and taking her into his arms. He thought for a moment. "Would you really want me to tell you if I did?"
"What?"
"Break my vows to you."
"Of course I would, what kind of question is that?"
"What would you do?"
"Probably toss you out on your ass, what do you think?"
"Now that's a great incentive to tell."
"Yeah, well, you'd deserve it if you messed around."
"Would our kids deserve it if we split up?"
"Would they deserve to grow up like we both did, one parent cheating and the other one putting up with it? I won't be my mother, you know," she shuddered. "And you said plenty of times before that you would never want to be like your father."
But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger
You'll learn things you never knew you never knew
Oh for God's sake, Rey impatiently made himself ignore this song's lyrics too. "That was different. You're talking about two totally different situations, one where the guy steps out all the time and the wife knows about it and puts up with it, and the other where the guy cheats once and the wife never finds out."
"Cheating is cheating. Kids shouldn't be brought up in a house where the parents aren't honest with each other."
"They should be brought up in a broken home instead?" he countered.
"Beats dishonesty."
"You really think so?"
"Yeah. Of course. Rey, what's the matter with you? Would you really want our kids to grow up in a house where we're not honest with each other? Where we're both living a lie, but one of us doesn't even know it? Where one of us respects the other one so little that they keep something like that from them, just because 'it's for the best'? Don't be dense."
Rey closed his eyes in pain briefly, wishing he could go and curl up and hide somewhere until this didn't hurt so damn much. Some times, like right now, five months wasn't enough distance. Some times it felt like five decades wouldn't be enough distance.
"So how did it end?"
"What?"
"The argument. How did it end?"
"Father Galvez asked us all to think about it, then bring it up and discuss it at the next in-service session."
"Good dodge."
"Yeah, I think he just didn't want me to lose it and call him a - well, call him stuff you really shouldn't call a priest."
"So what are you gonna say to him next session?"
"Same thing I said this time. I'll try to leave out what I think of him, though," she smiled.
"What would you tell somebody you were counseling?"
"Same thing I'll say to you: don't ever cheat, but if you do, at least own up to it. Don't make things worse by lying on top of cheating."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. As a matter of fact, buddy, you better promise."
"Promise what?" he felt brief alarm, then, strangely, a sudden calm. Here it was. Part of him had always known this moment would come some day, he just hadn't known how or when. Apparently, 'how' was a casual conversation while dancing to a Disney song and 'when' was right now.
"Promise you'll never cheat, but if you do you'll own up to it," she said, teasing him.
No, no, no, no, no, a voice in his head screamed at him, sounding a lot like his priest. Keep your mouth shut. No matter what she says, unless you want to destroy your family and everything you hold dear, keep your mouth shut.
But I agree with everything she just said, he told the voice. And I'll never be right with her unless I confess. Five months isn't enough, five years isn't enough, to make this right otherwise.
"Hon, come on," he said, chuckling, feeling himself quietly dying inside. Five months of living on borrowed time, abruptly coming to an end.
"No, I'm serious, Rey," she said, not really serious, but characteristically unwilling to back off once she had a bee in her bonnet over something.
"If I ever cheat I'll tell you?"
"Good."
"That wasn't a promise, that was a question. Is that what you want me to promise? What would you do if I did?"
"I told you, I'd leave," she laughed.
"Then no way. I'll only promise if you promise that if I ever told you I had an affair, you'd try to have us work it out," it was taking everything he had to keep dancing with her, keep his tone casual, as if this was just an interesting theoretical conversation.
"What do you mean, work it out?"
He shrugged. "Marriages survive infidelity. Some do, anyway. I wouldn't tell you if I knew that would be the end of our marriage. I wouldn't do that to our kids."
"Right," she laughed at him. "You'll only promise if you cover your butt first... hey, should I be suspicious? Somebody down at work I should worry about, some lovely ME or something?"
"No, I'm serious," he said, echoing her joking tone.
"All right, sure," she agreed lightly.
"Sure what?"
"I promise that if you ever step out on me and then tell me about it, I'll try to see if we can save our marriage. Your turn."
"OK, I promise that if you ever step out on me and then tell me about it-" he was stopped by her laughter.
"That's not what I asked you to promise," she said, swatting his behind.
"What's good for the goose is good for the gander," he said lightly. "If you tell me about it I'll still try to save our marriage," he finished.
"OK, now say what I wanted you to say in the first place," she prompted him.
"I promise that if I ever cheat on you I'll tell you about it. Your turn," he deliberately kept his tone light, feeling every word falling like a clod of dirt onto his grave as the Pocahontas song finished and the CD player mercifully went to an instrumental piece.
"I promise if I ever cheat on you I'll tell you too," she recited dutifully. "Take that, Father Galvez," she giggled. Take that, Father Morelli, Rey thought, and closed his eyes feeling like he was suffocating, wondering if he was ever going to hear Deborah giggle again.
Your family is more important than your guilt, he heard Morelli's voice telling him. The sin was yours. Why should your wife and children have to suffer for it?
They shouldn't. God knows they shouldn't. But... I've run away from this long enough. The right thing to do is the right thing to do, despite the consequences. Deborah doesn't want or deserve my lies and condescension. She wants and deserves my honesty.
She deserves a stable home and marriage. She deserves what she's got right now - what she thinks she's got right now. And the moment you open your mouth, it's over. She's going to leave. You can't hold her to a promise to try to work things out that was made during an offhand conversation where she didn't have any idea what she was agreeing to.
No, I can't. But I can bring it up later.
There won't be a later.
God, please let there be a later.
He stopped dancing and tightened his arms around her. He took a deep breath, burying his face in her hair, willing this moment to last forever, her arms around him, holding him close, the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body, so right against his, her heartbeat against his lower chest. She was so small, so delicate, so very strong and passionate. So capable of bringing him more joy than anybody he'd ever met before. So much a part of him - literally his better half. The thought of being without her was unimaginable, like losing a limb, or sunlight or air. For an instant he wanted to delay this and take her to bed, just one last time before he told her. Feel her body, all of it, one last time. Drown in her passion one last time before he threw it all away.
But that wouldn't be fair to her. She wouldn't know it was the last time. She wouldn't know that he was making love to her to engrave the memory of her on his body and soul forever. He would be using her.
He held her tightly for a minute, until she made an inquiring noise and shifted in his arms, trying to look up at him. Oh, don't, stay where you are, don't ever move, he thought, and then realized he couldn't put it off any more. He dropped his arms and stood before her, feeling her questioning gaze.
"Rey?" He took her hand and sat down on the couch, pulling her down next to him. He held both of her hands in his and forced himself to look into her eyes, forced the words out of his throat, feeling his heart break.
"I did."
"What?"
He swallowed hard. "I did cheat on you."