AN: So here is the second chapter of many. This one is where we first meet our Carol!
I'll provide a little bit of a warning here that if you're disturbed by discussion of domestic violence, you might want to skip this chapter.
Let me know what you think!
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Carol winced when she flipped on the bathroom light and looked in the mirror to survey the damage. She felt like this had been her routine for the past six years, but it was getting progressively worse, even she had to admit that.
No amount of make-up was going to cover this unless she could get her hands on some kind of theater make up or something suitable for making Halloween masks.
She smirked to herself at the thought. Her face looked more like the Halloween mask right now. She ran a wash cloth under warm water and gingerly dabbed at the dried blood around her busted lip. When she was satisfied that it was as clean as it was going to get, she rinsed the rag, watching the pink tinted water swirl around the sink and run down the drain. It had been a long time since she'd been squeamish at the sight of her own blood. She squeezed the rag out again and dabbed gently at the spot on her cheek where the skin had been busted.
When she'd heard him come in the night before there had been no mistaking that he was drunk. The fact that he hadn't killed himself driving home from The Watering Hole amazed her. Though she hated to admit it, sometimes she lie in bed at night and daydreamed a little about what it would be like if he did run his car off the road, maybe into a tree, and killed himself.
She imagined how she would react when Officer Grimes or Officer Walsh showed up at her door, perhaps solemn and forlorn, though all of Sweet Junction knew that he beat her mercilessly. Still, it would be their job to act as though reporting his death was the same thing as reporting some tragedy. Maybe she'd open the door to find one of them there, their hat in their hands, their head slightly hung, asking if they could come in, they needed to speak to her.
And then they'd tell her that Ed was dead. Like any dutiful wife she'd have to pretend that she was grieving his loss, that it was tragic news. She wondered, though, if she'd even be able to fake it well enough for them to buy it. She imagined that she'd bring herself to weep somehow, maybe thinking about how she'd felt when she'd lost her parents, maybe thinking about how betrayed she'd felt the first time he'd beat when they were barely married two weeks, maybe thinking about the baby she'd lost last Spring when Ed had pushed her down the basement stairs. Somehow she'd wring out a tear or two.
Then she'd ask them in for coffee, listen quietly as they recounted for her the gory details, making sure not to say anything that would upset her too bad, and then she'd make arrangements to have him laid to rest. She could play the solemn widow if she had to. She could convince the town that she was mourning, but really she knew she wouldn't be.
She no longer loved Ed Peletier, not one little bit. Whatever love she'd felt for him when she was young and foolish enough to believe the show that he put on for her was gone now. It wasn't possible to love a man who looked for any excuse he could, even inventing a few, to lay his hands on her.
Ed hadn't died last night though, just as he hadn't died any of the nights before that she'd indulged her widow's daydream. He'd come home, drunk, crashing through the front door as he often did. In his drunken trip down the hallway he'd knocked a picture off the wall and destroyed one of the small antique tables she'd put in the corner of the bedroom. He'd hurt his hand or his knee or something when he'd fell. That had been her fault too.
She'd stayed perfectly still in bed despite the noise he made, like a rhinoceros charging through the house, but it hadn't fooled him or either he hadn't cared. He'd drug her out of bed, yelling at her the trumped up charges that he'd created against her while he'd been out drinking. She hadn't fought against him. There was no use in fighting and it just made it worse. At least if she didn't fight back she could very often avoid trips to the emergency room declaring that she'd fallen again.
Everyone knew what was going on, but if they didn't, they had to think that she was the clumsiest woman on the face of the Earth. She'd "fallen down the basement stairs" so many times that if it were true she'd think they needed to provide her with a babysitter. In reality she'd only fallen down those stairs once, and even then she'd been pushed down them, it hadn't been her faulty step that had caused the spill.
Carol gently dabbed on as much make up as she dared to cake over the bruises. The problem with the make-up was that it didn't so much cover them as make them more obvious by virtue of the fact that the make-up contrasted so drastically with the dark purple of the bruises. She sighed and ran her fingers through her curls in an attempt to style it enough to help hide them.
She pulled on a long sleeve shirt, despite the heat, and wrapped one of the silk scarves that she had around her neck in an attempt to hide the finger shaped bruises there. She looked in the mirror again. It wasn't perfect, but at least with a pair of oversized sunglasses she could feel a little less self-conscious about it.
Carol slipped through the house, taking a moment to straighten a few of the picture frames that had been knocked crooked the night before. The table had been destroyed and she'd haul it out to the curb later. There'd be time to do that after Ed got off work. If she was going to leave the house, though, she had to do it quick while he was gone.
Carol got her purse and slipped out of the house quickly. In the car she gently slid her sunglasses on and took one last chance to check her reflection in the rearview mirror. It was as good as it was going to get. She backed out of the driveway and headed through town.
Sweet Junction was a town that was too small for its own good. Everyone knew everyone else and there was no such thing as a secret. Sure, people liked to pretend that they had secrets, just like Ed liked to pretend that no one except those rowdy assholes that congregated at The Watering Hole with him knew that he beat her, but there really weren't any secrets at all. If you sneezed at the super market someone would be waiting at your house with chicken soup by the time you pulled into the driveway. Everyone minded everyone else's business.
That was one of the things that Carol hated most about Sweet Junction. When people minded Ed's business, he didn't like it, and when something happened that Ed didn't like, she paid the price for it. Today she wasn't supposed to be out of the house. She didn't have permission. She thought, though, that she might be able to cover her tracks if someone reported to Ed that they saw her by saying that she had to go out to get something from the supermarket to make him lasagna for dinner. That was his favorite.
Carol pulled into the supermarket, as far as she could get from the actual store. She took a deep breath and got out the car quickly, bypassing the super market and slipping down one of the side streets behind the store as fast as she could. She didn't want to be spotted and she didn't want to draw attention. She was panting as she reached the small row of businesses. She glanced around, but didn't see anyone. Most everyone was at work right now, and hopefully not watching to see if Ed Peletier's wife was up to something.
Carol ducked inside the building that she'd been aiming for and realized she was almost out of breath. She stopped just inside the door for a moment and rested, trying to regain her composure. When she felt a little calmer she stepped up to the desk. The office smelled like moldy carpet and dusty books. She'd never been in a law office before, but she assumed that the smell might be normal.
"May I help you?" The girl at the reception desk asked. Carol recognized the girl. She was Amy Duff, and this was more than likely her summer job. Carol knew that the girl knew her too, though she probably didn't know her well. Carol was much more familiar with her sister Andrea. Suddenly she hoped that the girl didn't recognize her, because mentioning this to Andrea could really get her busted.
"Um," Carol stuttered, "I have an appointment with Michonne Williams," she finished.
"What's your name?" Amy asked.
"Carol McAlister," Carol answered, thankful that she'd been mindful enough to make the appointment under her maiden name.
"OK," Amy said. "I'll call you back when she's ready for you."
Carol thanked her and made her way to the small and, thankfully, empty waiting area. She didn't remove any of her clothing, even though it was far too stifling in the Georgia heat to wear long sleeves. She didn't want to draw any more attention from Amy than she already had. The last thing she needed was Andrea mentioning to Ed on one of his drinking binges that Carol had been at the lawyer's office.
"Ms. McAlister? Mrs. Williams can see you now," Amy called.
It took a moment for her old name to register with her again, but Carol got to her feet and took her purse following the young blonde back into one of the offices. Michonne was one of the only lawyers in town. She worked at the practice with her father, and though she was young, she was good at all the cases that Sweet Junction had to throw at her. Carol knew her well. They'd gone to school together, and though they'd never best friends or anything, they couldn't help but know each other.
Carol stepped into the room and heard Amy leave behind her. She closed the office door and Michonne looked up from the book she'd been studying on her desk. She stood up, extending her hand for a moment as though she didn't know who Carol was and then she looked surprised.
"Carol, I wasn't expecting you," Michonne said. She walked back over and leaned over what Carol could only assume now was an appointment book. "It's been so long since I saw your last name as McAlister that I didn't place it."
Carol stood awkwardly by the door waiting for instruction. She'd dealt with Michonne as a lawyer only in the few cases when Ed had gotten drunk and decided to be disorderly with someone besides herself.
"Please, I'm sorry, sit down," Michonne said. Carol made her way to the fake green leather chairs in front of Michonne's desk. Michonne stood a moment, unbuttoning her jacket, and then she sat. "What can I help you with?" She asked.
Carol put her purse in the chair next to her. She took off her shades and, without looking Michonne, unwrapped the scarf from around her neck.
"I want to leave him," she said, finally looking at Michonne. The lawyer wore no expression on her face, the mark of someone not wanting to offend their client at any cost. "I need help."
"I see," Michonne said, studying her for a moment.
"You don't have to pretend it's not bad, Michonne. I do have mirrors in my house," Carol said, half smiling. Michonne's face relaxed in response. "I can't pay you right now, but I do have money if I can get it away from him. Right now everything's in Ed's name and if he sees that I paid a lawyer he's going to go crazy."
"I understand, don't worry about that right now," Michonne said. Her face was one of concern now.
Carol fought back the tears. Just the concern on the other woman's face was more sympathy than she'd felt in years.
"I don't know what to do. If I leave him then he'll just come after me. I don't want to leave Sweet Junction, it's my home," Carol said.
Michonne nodded her understanding.
"Carol, we can get a restraining order. We can fix it so that if Ed even tries to touch you he goes to jail. Don't worry about that," Michonne said. "That can be arranged, I promise. As soon as Ed is served it goes into effect. Then we can work up the details of getting a divorce, splitting up assets and such."
Carol listened half-heartedly as Michonne talked to her in legal terms about things she didn't understand. Everything was in Ed's name. The only thing she knew she had was a savings account that held the money that her parents had left her when they passed away, but she wasn't even sure that it was technically hers anymore. She could care less about the money. She didn't want the house either. It held too many nightmarish memories for her. All that she really wanted right now was a good night's sleep without the fear that she'd be awakened in the middle of the night by Ed's hands around her throat.
"Did you hear me?" Michonne asked. Carol snapped out of her thoughts.
"Excuse me? I'm sorry," she said.
"I asked if you have somewhere to go," Michonne repeated. "Until Ed gets served, do you have somewhere to go?"
Carol shook her head.
"I'll stay at home until he's served. When they come to serve him, will I be allowed to go with Officer Grimes or Officer Walsh?" Carol asked. She was worried that the officers wouldn't escort her off the property, and once the papers were in Ed's hands she wanted to be out of his reach.
Michonne nodded.
"Yes, I mean they can escort you away from the house if that's what you want, but are you sure that you want to go back there until he's served?" Michonne asked.
Carol nodded.
"He doesn't know I'm here. It won't be any worse than it normally is until they serve him the papers. I'll just pretend that everything's normal," Carol said.
Michonne's face grew concerned again.
"Carol, if you don't have anywhere to go, you're welcome to stay with me," Michonne offered.
Carol smiled at her.
"That's sweet of you, but I couldn't impose. Besides, if I came to stay with you before Ed was under the restraining order he'd just find me, and then you could get caught in the crossfire," Carol said. "I'll be fine for two more days. I've made it this long."
Michonne looked concerned again, but finally she nodded her head. She picked up the phone and made a phone call that Carol only half listened to. Carol's heart was beating in her throat almost. She had to leave here without being seen. Then she could go to the supermarket and pick up the things she needed to make lasagna. Maybe having his favorite meal would appease Ed for the night. She might avoid another beating if she didn't mess anything else up. Then she'd only have to make it through a day or two, treading as easily as possible, until finally she could be free of him.
The very thought of her freedom from Ed would make any beating she suffered until then more than bearable, she was sure of that.
When she was finished and they'd discussed everything that Michonne wanted to talk about, Carol carefully replaced her scarf and sunglasses, gathering up her purse. Michonne got up from her chair and walked Carol to her office door.
"I mean it," Michonne said. "If you need to get away from him before Officer Grimes gets there, there's a guest room at my house. The girls are a little noisy, but no one will hurt you there, and Ed Peletier isn't getting into my home."
Carol smiled, fighting back a tear at the very offer.
"Thank you," she said. "I promise that I'll come if it gets too bad. It means a lot just that you offered."
Michonne reached out, and instead of shaking her hand, she pulled Carol into a hug. Carol sunk into the hug for a moment, the embrace being the kindest embrace that she'd felt since her mama had passed two years ago.
"You're doing the right thing by getting out of this," Michonne said. "We'll keep Ed Peletier in jail if we have to, but you're doing right to get out."
Carol nodded.
"I think I am," she said.
"Be careful, and please don't hesitate to call me if you need something," Michonne said.
Carol nodded again and thanked her before stepping out of the office and making her way back down the hallway. She slipped right past the reception desk without saying a thing to Amy who was sitting there reading a magazine. She made the trip as quickly as she could back to the supermarket and made her way inside gathering up a basket and slipping down the aisles collecting the things she needed to make lasagna. She ignored, as she often did, the glances cast at her by the people she encountered, people she'd known her entire life, who now hardly even had the nerve to speak to her.
When she'd finished her shopping she got back in the car and breathed a sigh of relief. She was fairly certain that she'd avoided being seen anywhere besides the supermarket and dinner could cover that sighting.
Despite it all, Carol felt lighter in the moment than she'd felt since the very first time that Ed's fist had made contact with her cheek over the very first dinner that she burned as a newlywed. It didn't matter if she had to live in a dump somewhere or work four pathetic jobs for less than minimum wage, she was going to get away from Ed Peletier, and she was going to be her own woman again. If there was anything that she'd learned from marriage, it was that a woman was better off without a man because you never knew what the man could turn into once they were behind closed doors.
Carol drove home, determined to pack her most precious possessions in a suitcase she could hide in the hall closet for when the police came. Ed could have the rest. She just had to survive a few more days.