Degree of Guilt

by Unknown

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I guess I’m not very good company.’

  ‘Oh, you’ve been surprisingly lifelike.’ Paget seemed to wince at his own words. Forgive me. Sometimes I don’t know what to say, when a simple “What’s the matter” would do nicely. What is the matter? Marcy Linton?’

  For once, Terri thought, his intuition had failed him; she was better prepared for banter than for serious talk. She searched for something that would seem like enough to explain her mood and, at the same time, invite a change of subject. Finally, she said, ‘It’s just how Richie sounded last night, I guess.’

  Paget tilted his head in inquiry. ‘How was that?’

  ‘He’s not happy about my being here.’ She smiled faintly. ‘I’m never sure anymore how attractive Richie really thinks I am, but he’s absolutely certain that other men find me compelling.’

  Paget looked mildly surprised. ‘Me, for example?’

  Terri nodded. ‘Uh-huh.’

  Paget seemed to consider that a moment. ‘You are compelling, of course. But that misses the point of our relationship. As professionals, or as friends.’

  ‘I know that. But Richie never will.’

  Paget stared out the window. His gaze was distant, directed at the mountainside. ‘Sometimes,’ he said quietly, ‘people just need a safe place to go.’

  The waiter cleared their plates and wineglasses, took coffee orders. For once, Terri did not want dessert. She felt Paget watching her again.

  ‘Linton’s our one chance to win,’ he said finally. ‘And getting this out may well help her.’

  ‘That’s much too easy.’ Terri stared at her coffee. ‘What gives us the right to play with other people’s lives, for reasons of our own? What gives me the right to open them up like that?’ Suddenly Terri needed to deflect the conversation. ‘Sometimes, I wonder if I was really made to be a lawyer.’

  Paget’s smile was unimpressed but not unkind. ‘Is that what we were talking about – your fitness as a lawyer?’

  She looked up at him, and then his smile disappeared. Softly, he asked, ‘What happened to you, Terri?’

  She felt startled, confused. When she spoke, her voice sounded thin. ‘I became a lawyer. That’s all.’

  Paget shook his head. ‘Something happened to you,’ he said. ‘If you’re paying attention, as I’ve been, it’s not even that hard to spot.’

  All at once, Terri felt exposed, angry at the tears she had to fight. ‘Can we go now?’ she said. ‘I’m tired.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Quickly, Paget signaled the waiter, paid the bill. His manner was smooth and pleasant; the only change was that he let Terri keep to herself. On the way to the car, and for some time after, he said nothing at all.

  The night was cold and dark. Through the windshield Terri could see a crescent moon; a black expanse of sky above the mountains; more stars than she could see in San Francisco, undimmed by fog or city lights. The only sound was the engine running.

  They drove, two stiff and silent profiles, staring through the window at the dark. Terri felt herself hold on tight.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Paget said quietly.

  Perhaps, Terri thought, it was the way he said it. She had curled up in the seat, tears running down her face, before she was aware that he had stopped the car.

  They were at an observation point above the valley, a thousand feet of darkness.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

  ‘No.’ Terri felt her emotions plummet in a free-fall with no end in sight. ‘I’m not all right. I haven’t been all right for a long time.’

  Despite the tears, her voice was cold and clear.

  ‘What is it, Terri?’

  They sat there, Paget turned toward her, Terri staring out the window. It was easier that way.

  ‘Five years ago,’ she said at last, ‘someone raped me.’

  He was quiet for a time. ‘And you’ve never told anyone.’

  Just look at the stars, Terri told herself. ‘It was stupid,’ she said.

  Once more, Paget fell silent. Terri felt herself swallow, began again. ‘The man was a law professor in his forties – married, with two kids, and Hispanic like me. He’d done criminal defense in East L.A., worked with Cesar Chavez. Some of us saw him as a kind of role model.’ Terri paused. ‘Especially me.

  ‘In my third year, a few months after Elena was born, he asked me to be his research assistant on a paper he was writing. I was flattered that he’d asked. But I did it because Richie had decided to add an MBA to his law degree, and we needed the money.’ She paused again. ‘From the start, Richie was jealous. The man was appealing in his way – black mustache, dark intense eyes – and Richie was sure that he was interested in me. But not so sure that he didn’t want me taking his money.’

  Terri stopped, replaying the note of bitterness in her voice. So funny, she thought: her eyes were wet, but her throat felt dry.

  ‘What,’ Paget inquired gently, ‘was this man’s name?’

  Terri hesitated; somehow naming him made it real again. ‘Urbina,’ she said at last. ‘Steve Urbina.’

  In the darkness of the car, Terri closed her eyes.

  ‘If this is too much,’ she heard him say, ‘we don’t need to talk about it.’

  There was a knot in her chest; she could not seem to get it loose. Talk about it, she told herself, as if it were a case. As if it were someone else.

  ‘It was late Sunday afternoon,’ she finally said. ‘Richie and I had taken Elena on her first outing to Tilden Park. It was warm outside. We put Elena under a tree in one of those portable car seats while Richie and I ate our picnic. I was wearing a sundress, Richie his hiking shorts and a sweatshirt, and Elena had on a pink T-shirt that said “Baby Power” or something foolish like that. I remember thinking that we were a family, and how glad I was that I’d decided to have Elena.

  ‘We spent all afternoon there, remembering things about college and looking at Elena, who didn’t do much but sleep and squall.’ Terri felt herself holding on to the memory. ‘But then babies don’t have to do very much, do they?’

  ‘I’ve never really had one,’ Paget said. ‘I envy you that.’

  ‘It was such a good day. We decided to go home, barbecue something on the roof of our apartment building, while Elena slept.’ Terri hesitated. ‘And then, after we put Elena in her bassinet for the night, we were going to make love.’

  For a moment, Terri tried to recall her marriage to Richie before it began carrying the weight of her successes, his jealousies and fits and starts. It was more painful than she had allowed herself to know. She stayed there, lost in what she felt as Christopher Paget’s infinite patience.

  ‘When we got home,’ she said at last, ‘there was a message from Steve Urbina.

  ‘I’d forgotten to give him some research notes; could I drop them at his house?’ She shook her head. ‘The thing I remember was that Richie was so pissed.

  ‘I called Urbina and told him I’d be right over – it wasn’t far. I didn’t worry about him – I mean, he was a little flirty, but nothing serious, and home was where his wife and kids were. Actually, at the time I didn’t even think about those things.’ Terri opened her eyes, looked out at the stars. ‘And besides,’ she said in a flat voice, ‘forgetting the notes was my fault.

  ‘I went out the door, with Richie still angry.

  ‘Steve Urbina’s house was this stucco sort of Spanish place in Albany, with an apple tree in front. I got there in about fifteen minutes and hurried to the door.

  ‘I was in such a rush to get back home that I tripped on one of his kids’ tricycles.

  ‘I was sitting on the walk with the notes scattered next to me and my sundress pulled up around my thighs, looking at my knee, when I realized he was watching through the screen door.

  ‘It was strange for a second: he startled me, and I couldn’t tell how long he’d been standing there. But all he said was, “Let me take a look at that.”

  ‘
The scrape was pretty bad, with some surface bleeding. When he knelt beside me, I pulled my sundress down so that only one knee showed. “We keep Band-Aids and Mercurochrome for the kids,” he said. “That may need hydrogen peroxide too.”

  ‘When I picked up my notes and followed him inside the house, I didn’t hear anyone else.

  ‘“Mattie and the kids are visiting their grandmother,” he said. “’Fraid I’m the only nurse around.”

  ‘“It doesn’t matter,” I told him. “Just show me where the bathroom is, and I’ll take care of this myself. It’ll be practice for Elena.”

  ‘“Oh, come on in,” he answered, and steered me into his bedroom. “Just sit on the edge of the bed, and I’ll get the stuff from the master bath. I can’t have you suing me for maintaining a dangerous condition on my own front walk.”’

  Terri paused. ‘I was dumb,’ she said dully, ‘but he was so paternal, as some men can be, that I thought it made him feel better. I just sat on the edge of the bed.

  ‘In a minute, he was back. He had cotton balls, hydrogen peroxide, and a large Band-Aid patch. Very carefully – respectfully, almost – he waited for me to pull my dress up and then dabbed peroxide on the scrape.

  ‘It stung – I flinched a little. He looked up at me, concerned, and asked if it hurt. When I told him “A little,” his touch got even softer.’

  Terri looked down. ‘It wasn’t sexual to me, but I remember thinking for a moment that his gentleness was nice, kind of warming.’ She paused, adding softly, ‘Richie was never that gentle.’

  She fell quiet for a time, suspended on the edge of what had happened to her. ‘When he put on the Band-Aid,’ she said finally, ‘he pressed down on each edge very carefully, to make sure it stayed on. And then he reached up beneath my dress and pulled my panties down.’

  There was something in Paget’s perfect stillness that made Terri falter, as if the effort of his self-control tore something loose inside her. ‘It happened so fast,’ she told him softly. ‘Really, it was over before I could believe it.’

  Paget said nothing. She touched her eyes. ‘Maybe the worst part,’ she said at last, ‘is that I didn’t do anything. I don’t have any excuse – not like Marcy Linton. I just froze.’

  ‘“No,” I told him. And then he pushed me down on the bed and leaned his elbow against my throat. He was already standing between my legs. I was so easy for him.’ She shook her head. ‘He was coming inside me before I even started to cry.’

  Gazing out at the stars, Terri stopped herself from crying. ‘Afterwards, he stood between my legs, staring down at me as he zipped up his pants. When he said that no one would believe me, I knew that he had done things like this before.’ She shook her head. ‘He was far too confident, and he’d chosen his victim far too well.’

  Terri swallowed again. ‘Once I promised, he handed me back my panties. He just watched me while I put them on. He’d felt me respond to him, he said – that was why he’d done it. And then he told me it was time to leave.’

  Terri leaned her face against the cold window of the car. ‘I drove home in a daze, I don’t even remember how. When I got there, Richie wanted to know what took me so long. He kept badgering me about why I needed to waste family time on Steve Urbina.’ Terri paused. ‘I was so unresponsive that, in one of his lightning changes of mood, Richie suddenly became cheerful. He wanted to take a picture of me in my sundress. I remember trying to smile for him.’ Terri’s voice became wondering. ‘It’s his favorite, he says. He still keeps it over his computer.’

  Terri turned to Paget. ‘That night, Richie fucked me twice. One for himself, I remember thinking, and one because I’d been at Steve Urbina’s.

  ‘I never told anyone. I couldn’t explain, couldn’t face Urbina.’ Her voice was parched. ‘I couldn’t bring myself to even mention him. I wrote a one-page letter resigning my job, didn’t go to graduation. I don’t know whether I was more afraid of seeing Steve Urbina or I thought, somehow, Richie would know.’ Terri shook her head in wonder. ‘I felt it was my fault. That was why I became a rape counselor – to try to understand. What I learned was how many women this happened to, far more than most men seem to realize. But I could never talk about it. To anyone.’

  Pausing, Terri looked down. ‘Not only was I a coward, but I never seriously considered not being one. How did I ever ask Marcy Linton to do this?’

  Paget watched her. ‘How can you have blamed yourself?’

  ‘Because I let it happen.’ Terri paused. ‘Because I protected everyone but me.’

  Turning to the window, Paget gazed out at the night. ‘I hate that,’ he said softly. ‘I hate it for you.’

  Almost to herself, Terri shrugged.

  ‘Why,’ Paget asked finally, ‘did you never talk to your mother? You surely didn’t think that she would blame you.’

  His tone was not judgmental; it was as if he wanted to understand her, and this was a piece that mattered.

  ‘No,’ Terri answered, ‘I didn’t think that. Looking back, I just didn’t want to admit that I’d started doing what she’d always done – keeping things from Richie, keeping the peace. For both our sakes I couldn’t tell her that.’

  Paget turned to her. ‘Then who do you talk to?’

  She thought for a moment. ‘You,’ she answered quietly. ‘I guess I talk to you.’

  Chapter 6

  Teresa Peralta stepped from the shower.

  Richie turned to look at her. It was strange, she thought; she had been naked with him countless times before, and yet tonight it made her edgy.

  He put down the toothbrush, taking her in. ‘Coming to bed soon?’ he asked.

  She wrapped a towel around herself. ‘In a while. I have to dry my hair, take off my eyeliner. Unwind a little. It was a long flight and a longer two days.’

  Richie gave her the thwarted look she had come to know too well. ‘It’s not like I’ve seen you much lately.’ His voice rose in complaint. ‘I’m the one who’s your husband. Not Chris Paget.’

  Terri tried to understand why she felt guilty. ‘I know who you are,’ she said tiredly. ‘And I know you’re my husband. In nearly six years of marriage, I’ve never not known that.’

  Richie was silent for a moment. Terri turned to the mirror, dabbing at her eyes with makeup remover. ‘Why didn’t you call last night?’ he asked.

  Terri’s guilt became defensiveness. ‘It was late, and I had a lot to think about.’ Terri paused. ‘If you were so concerned, you could have called me. I gave you the number.’

  ‘Was he with you?’

  Terri stopped to look at him. ‘No,’ she answered quietly. ‘I just didn’t want to call.’

  Richie put both hands on his hips. ‘I can’t believe this.’

  ‘Then believe this, Richie. I’ve never been unfaithful to you, and I never will.’ Terri paused. ‘There’s nothing you can do to change that, one way or the other. It’s just the way I am.’

  Richie stood there watching her. In a lower voice, he said, ‘I don’t want you working with him.’

  Terri felt a moment’s anger, then felt tired. ‘You have an exclusive on my body, Richie. But you can’t set the conditions under which I’m going to support you.’

  He flushed. ‘You know, that’s a really telling remark, Ter. It’s what you do – emotional abuse and economic castration.’

  It felt so unfair that Terri did not stop before she spoke. ‘When it comes to economic castration,’ she retorted, ‘you’re a self-made man.’

  Richie stiffened; then, curiously, Terri thought she saw a fleeting triumph in his eyes, as if he had gotten what he wanted. Very softly, he said, ‘I don’t know whether I’ll ever forget what you just said.’

  ‘All that I meant to say,’ Terri answered wearily, ‘is that you should quit worrying about Chris and start worrying about Elena. And me.’

  ‘I thought our interests were synonymous.’ He stood straighter. ‘In a real family, Terri, that’s how it’s supposed to be.’

/>   Married all this time, Terri thought, and she was still not sure when Richie meant to be manipulative and when he was merely obtuse to any feelings but his own. She supposed it did not matter. ‘Let’s stop fighting,’ she said. ‘Please. I just got home, and tomorrow the hearing begins.’

  He lowered his voice still further. ‘Your job. That’s all you seem to think of now.’

  Terri picked up her hair dryer. ‘Tonight,’ she answered, ‘that’s pretty much true.’

  She switched on the dryer, using its sound as a buffer. Richie lingered in the doorway of the bathroom, watching with an expression of stubbornness. Then he shrugged and turned away. Something in the gesture told Terri that their quarrel had not ended.

  Terri stood in her transient zone of peace: the light of the bathroom, the drone of her hair dryer. Looked at herself in the mirror: the serious eyes, the first lines at their corners. Thought of Elena, sleeping in her bedroom, face lineless and untroubled, so much like Richie’s that Terri still found it startling. And then her mind wandered again to Marcy Linton. To the way Mark Ransom had broken her down, used her fears and vulnerabilities until Linton felt a kind of paralysis. To whether Terri had any right to make her face a trial.

  Tomorrow it would begin.

  She finished. With more deliberation than normal, Terri put things away, hung the towel up. And then she breathed in, once, and walked into the bedroom.

  Richie was waiting.

  He lay propped up on one elbow, torso showing, half covered by the bed sheet. Even before he pulled the sheet down to make room for her, Terri knew that he was naked.

  ‘Come here, Ter,’ he said. ‘It’s no good for married people to end the night like this.’ He gave his most ingratiating smile. ‘Afterwards, I’ll rub your back.’

  In the dim light from the lamp on Richie’s side, Terri walked naked to the bed. ‘I’m really tired,’ she parried. ‘Think we can take a rain check?’