Disclaimer: See earlier versions

SequelTo: A to Z: In Sickness and Health Part 4(b)

I wish that I loved him less. If I loved him less, I could walk out of this hospital right now. I could be anywhere but Arizona. I could be in the airport lounge waiting for a flight to get me out of this hell. I could be in a bar trying to pick someone up to ease this pain. Instead, I'm watching him struggle back to consciousness. Instead, I'm worried about him.

I've been doing a lot of talking and arranging. The doctor expressed some concern at Benny's reaction and wants to have a social worker or a psychiatrist to evaluate him before he checks out. And I talked and talked explaining jet lag and the sudden shock and the lack of sleep. And the fact that he and Kowalski were professional partners. I've learned pretty well from my husband how to talk someone into submission. As long as Benny is cooperative, non-violent they'll let him go.

The hand that I can see is beginning to twitch. In a few minutes I'll be face to face with the man who betrayed me. The man I don't think that I can ever touch again. And I don't have any kind of plan.

There's a moan from the bed. Not of pain, just of awareness. One of the by-products of marriage I guess, you recognize the subtle differences in your spouse's moans. The next moan is my name and instinct makes a plan for me. It reacts to the fear in his voice.

"Ray."

"Yeah." I'm up and sitting on the bed. I grasp his hand in mine and with my other hand smooth his hair. I allow myself to look into his eyes and I see that although he's conscious it was a real fight. A man with less will would probably still be out cold. I fight just to stay afloat.

His eyes flutter closed for a minute then open. He's determined. By the way that his pupils are dilated it's apparent he's still under the influence but, he's with me. My hand keeps smoothing his hair. I can barely think coherently, but I've got to get him on the same page. The things we have to deal with are family things. Family business. And family business can't be handled with the interference of shrinks. In Arizona. We have to get out of Arizona.

"Benton, I need you to listen to me very carefully." I think the first and last time I called him Benton was when we got married. But it does what I want it to. He knows it's serious. Those blues are completely focused on me.

"Benton, something bad has happened. You already know what it is but you didn't take it so well the first go round. The doctor's have given you something to take the edge off. I'm going to tell you again and you've got to keep it together. If you have another episode like the one before they shot you up, you're gonna be in a padded room."

He squeezes my hand. "Stanley Kowalski killed himself this morning." The squeeze turns into a bone crushing grip. I grit my teeth and don't say anything. I just keep stroking his hair. His eyes flutter closed for a moment and I think he's about to cry. I don't know how I'll handle that. Tears for Kowalski. For his lover. I feel a sourness in the pit of my stomach and if he weren't holding my hand so tightly I think that I would be in the hallway dry heaving.

But when he opens his eyes again, he's staring at me intently and dry eyed. I think we're at least in the same chapter. "The doctor will want to talk to you. You can't give them any reason to keep you here. Do you understand Benton? Now would be a good time for the Mountie mask." A slight nod. He hates it when I invoke the Mountie mask. He always argues that there was never any such thing. Just a 'necessary professional reserve.' But this time he doesn't argue.

It takes another forty -five minutes or so for him to fully come out of the sedative. The nurse pokes, prods and take his vitals. Once that's done the psychiatrist shows up. He asks Fraser if he wants me to stay and he nods yes. And then the performance begins.

It was a thing of beauty. The only near glitch was toward the end. The shrink asked Benny if he wanted to kill himself. I almost stood up and shouted that's enough. Benny can do omission, but he can't tell an outright lie to a direct question. And that was something that had never occurred to me. His lover was dead, maybe he wanted to be too. I couldn't keep my mouth shut.

"What kind of bullshit question is that?"

"Mr. Vecchio, please."

Benny's eyes shifted to mine briefly. Then he looked the doctor right in the eye.

"Ray, it's alright. No, I have neither the intention nor the desire to take my own life."

The shrink eyed both of us, then produced a card out of his pocket. "Mr. Fraser if you should need to speak to someone during your time in Arizona, here is a number you can call."

I fought the urge to snatch the card.

Another hour and we were in the hospital parking structure sitting in the rental. The interior was so hot I felt I was melting. I rolled down the windows to let some of the hot air escape before reaching to turn on the ignition. Fraser put his hand over mine and stopped it.

"What happened Ray?" Right same chapter, not necessarily same page.

"Carbon Monoxide poisoning. He did it in the GTO, in his parent's garage with a hose."

"How...How did you know? Did he call you?"

"I went to see him this morning. I wanted to hear from the horse's mouth what was going on."

"Ah. Ah. I need to ....I would like to go to the Kowalski's Ray."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"I behaved very badly this morning. I would like to pay my respects to his parents before the sun goes down." You behaved pretty badly last night I think but don't say it out loud. And I'd like to go to the airport and get the hell out of this desert.

We pull up to the house and the garage is still open. Everything looks the same as I saw it this morning. I can see the glass glittering on the ground where I broke the window. My husband is out of the car before I've fully parked. His long legs quickly cut the distance between our rental and the Kowalski garage.

I watch as he circles the GTO. Crunching across the glass, he crouches and his eye catches the hose I kicked under the work bench. He fishes it out and turns it over and over in his hand. He sniffs it but I know there's no smell. For a minute I think that he's going to taste it. But he stands and puts the hose on top of the workbench. He looks at me and I can't read the look in his eyes.

"His parents should not have to clean this mess." And he reaches for a broom and starts to sweep the glass. I think that a lover shouldn't have to either. Then it hits me, it's not that, he's being a good partner. Taking care of his partner's family. The thing about deciding that something doesn't matter is that you have to keep deciding. Each minute, each hour.

I can't watch him do this so I try to focus on what I can do. I let the Kowalski's know that we're here. Let them know what Fraser's doing in the garage. They meet that news with a tight lipped acceptance. I also remind them not to say anything about the tape.

********************

I finally make it to the airport. Unfortunately, it's only to pick up Frannie. Welsh and I think Huey are coming later tonight. The funeral is day after tomorrow. I haven't seen much of my husband in the last day and a half. He's been spending most of his time with the Kowalski's. I think he's trying to make up for not being available the first eight hours after they lost their son. I think that I can count the number of words he's said to me since he cleaned up the garage on one hand. The Mountie mask is still firmly in place and it scares me. I wished I loved him less so that it wouldn't matter.

It's weird being around Frannie. It's been five years plus how every many months and days since Benny and I celebrated our fifth anniversary. The day after the night Benny asked me not to leave him, we told Frannie. We figured she would be the test. Depending on how she took it...and it was also a little chicken shit because we figured she would blab to the rest of the family and we wouldn't have to face Ma. She rolled her eyes at the both of us and said.

"It's about freakin' time."

"What does that mean?"

"It means it took you two long enough. It means I'm not surprised. " Benny was blushing. I was just confused.

"Then why -" and I pointed. Cause she was dressed how she was usually dressed, short and tight.

"Why are you always all over Benny. I'm sure that didn't change while I was gone. Benny was still blushing up a storm. And then Frannie was blushing too.

"Well you know, if you weren't gonna do anything about it. I mean he ...you can't blame a girl for trying." She finally said. With my little sister solidly in our corner, it made it easier to tell the rest of the family.

Frannie and I even joked about double dating. It was great ....until I asked Benny to marry me. Her reactions were like night and day. When we announced that we were engaged at Sunday dinner, Frannie got up and left the dining room. I thought it was one of those girl things where she left because she was so overcome with happiness and was gonna start bawling like a baby. I figured eventually we would sit down together and she would help me plan the wedding. That night when she left the table, she left the house and she didn't speak to either Benny or me unless she absolutely had to. She rarely had to. It stunned me. I had some input from Ma and Benny but mostly I planned the wedding by myself.

My guess about what happened is that as long as we were just dating there was the chance that we would break up. As long as it was only dating Benny was taken, but not * taken taken *. But marriage.....well my sister knows me, us. Marriage definitely meant game over. She knew that. Same gender marriage had only been legal for a short time at that point and I guess maybe she hadn't really considered that as a possibility for me and Benny since it hadn't been when we first met.

I was more upset than I thought I'd be that she wasn't coming to the wedding. I had some trouble sleeping, eating. I know that Ma spoke to her about coming because she told me that she would. I asked her not too. I think that Benny said something to her. He never mentioned it but she showed up at the ceremony. And I was happier than I thought I could be given the way that she treated our engagement. And in the years since we have seen each other at other family gatherings and it's always civil, but never warm.

Her eyes are a little red like maybe she's been crying on the plane or hasn't had much sleep and well I know that drill. And it's not exactly like the last five years disappear when I see my sister but I open my arms to her and she doesn't hesitate to step inside.

I got her a junior suite one floor below us, but she's in our room right now. Benny, of course, is not here. Frannie sits on the edge of the bed as I unzip one of the two garment bags she brought. I didn't ask her which was which so I startle just a little when I see the serge. I shouldn't. I asked her to bring it. I told her where she could find Benny's uniform as well as my dark blue suit. I also had her bring a regular suit for Benny in case he didn't want to wear the serge. I figured he would, but I wanted him to have options. Of course that was before I listened to the tape.

"Ray?"

I guess I'm still staring at Benny's uniform.

"Ray, what's wrong?"

"Oh God, Frannie," I whisper. And just like that my knees go. And I'm on my ass. My sister kneels beside me. "What is it? Did something else happen? Where's Benton?"

"I...."

She clutches my arm. "Where the hell is Benton?"

"I'm losing him." For moment she just looks at me. And I see it in her eyes. Son of a bitch. She doesn't speak to either of us, not me, not Mr. Perfect for five goddamn years and I can see it right there in her eyes. She's getting ready to ask me what I did. What I've done to Benton. She cuts us both off, but her instinct *still * is to take his side. And I want her to. I want her to ask me what I did to the perfect Mountie so that I can tell her the truth.

I don't know if she reads something in my expression or if it dawns on her that she doesn't know us as married people, doesn't know anything about our relationship, but she hugs me. Maybe Ma had another talk with her before she left. Ma wanted to come, but all of this would have been too much for her. She called Stan's mother and talked to her for a long time yesterday. Maybe losing her fake brother makes her appreciate the one that's still here.

We sit on the floor for a while like that. "If I can just get us back to Chicago, I think it'll be fine." I tell her. She nods quietly. I can tell that she wants to ask questions but she doesn't and I appreciate that.

*****************************

It has got to be the hottest day of the year. I mean it's been hot the entire time we've been here, but today is the worst one. I'm sweating like a pig in my suit. There's probably an anti-cop joke in there somewhere. I can feel sweat running down my back, down my legs. Tears stream down Frannie's face. She clutches my hand tightly. I'm glad she's representing the family. Benny, who stands at attention, looking like an action figure in the serge, is on my right. There are a few fine beads of sweat on his forehead but other than that he looks none the worse for wear. He's staring at the coffin, but I can see that his eyes are unfocused. He's dazed, dry-eyed It dawns on me that he might be in shock. Welsh and Huey are standing just behind us. Stanley left specific instructions. Stella Kowalski, the person who was a major player in all this misery, is conspicuously absent. I wonder if Kowalski left instructions about that. The graveside service is short. He requested that there be no church service. No flowery words at the graveside. Just the ashes to ashes and on to the post funeral "party". His words. His mother and father throw the first handful of dirt, on the coffin. Then Stanley's brother. Then we each file by and do the same. When it's Benny's turn, I brace myself. He hasn't cried or expressed any real emotion since his collapse at the hospital. All duty and efficiency. Benny throws dirt on the coffin without looking.

Back at the Kowalski's, Mrs. Kowalski pulls me aside to tell me that Benny has been askin' if Stan left anything like a note. She told me it was one thing for them not to bring it up, it was another thing for them to lie to him outright.

"Raymond, I understand that you're trying to look out for your husband, but my son wanted his partner, his friend to have that tape. Unless there's something on the tape that will hurt him...and I know my son. He wouldn't do that to Ben. If he asks us again, we won't lie to him. We'll tell him that he should talk to you."

Of course the irony is, isn't it that he has hurt Benny and his own family by killing himself. But I'm not gonna get any points for saying that out loud.

I go looking for Benny and find him about twenty minutes later in Kowalski's apartment. Someone has already begun packing up Kowalski's things. It's designed kind of like a loft. Everything in the one room. So I can't help but noticed the bed. The sheets are rumpled maybe still from Stan's last night. I have to take a minute to breathe and remind myself that even though my stomach is trying to revolt on me, what my husband did with his partner doesn't matter. I turn so that the bed is no longer in my field of vision. Benny hasn't said anything to me. He's sitting at what I'm sure passed for the dining room table, staring at his hands. There's a stack of letters on the table. I recognize my husband's handwriting on the outside of the envelopes. And I never considered, never thought 'til now years worth of letters I didn't know anything about. Five years of love letters, maybe and the trips out of town, how many were really to Arizona. I stare at him unable to speak for several minutes. And I chant over and over in my head, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter.

Eventually I find my voice. "Benny I need you to come back to the hotel with me now."

"I can't Ray, I have to...."

"You have to come back to the room. I need to talk to you. There isn't anything else for you to do here."

"I told Stan's mother that I would pack his clothes for Goodwill."

"Stan's mom knows that I need you to come back to our room. You can come back here afterwards but I need to talk you." We ride in silence back to the hotel. Welsh agreed to bring Frannie back with him.

Once in the room I don't spend any time leading in. "I found this in an envelope in Stan's car. The envelope had your name on it." I hand Benny the tape. He looks at it, then he looks at me. If this weren't so serious the confusion on his face would be funny.

"I don't understand." "I know. Listen to the tape. My mini cassette player is on the night table. I'm gonna be in the bar."

An hour passes. I'm not in the bar. I knew it was a mistake as soon as I walked in. I could feel that old scary feeling. The feeling I would sometimes get in Vegas when I was overwhelmed and wanted a drink to sort of even myself out. I know right now, like I knew in Vegas, that it wouldn't stop at one cause I didn't want to get even I wanted to get obliterated. I wanted to get out. I end up in the parking lot in front of the hotel making some phone calls. That's where Benny finds me.

He's changed out of the serge and is wearing jeans and an ocean colored henley that I bought him last Christmas. I bought it of course because it brings out my favorite feature. Eyes that are so shuttered now. You would be hard pressed to say what color they really are. And I brace myself again because for the last hour I've been trying to distract myself. I wasn't ready for him to know that I know. I'm not ready to have those kinds of conversations with him. I've forgiven him. Stan Kowalski is dead and so I'm absolutely sure that it won't happen again. End of story.

"I've taken the liberty of making arrangements for us to fly back to Chicago tomorrow night. If I understood correctly Frannie is leaving at that time so we will all be on the same flight."

I'm stunned. It's not what I was expecting but it's what I wanted. He mistakes my lack of immediate response. His thumb rubs over his eyebrow. "Unless it is necessary for you to return to Los Angeles."

"No, Benny it's not necessary."

Because for the last hour I have been on the phone with my officer and various other people up and down the command chain trying to get the Los Angeles problem wrapped up. I issued the order to my officer. I didn't want to do it over the phone, but I didn't have much of a choice. She was ordered to return to Chicago immediately. I was honest with her. I would stand by her while her conduct was investigated, but I couldn't come back to Los Angeles because of family business. I was going to Chicago where I belonged. The west hasn't been good to me.

"I...uh." His thumb flicks over his eyebrow again. The second time in five minutes. "I would like to keep my promise to his mother." His voice kind of trails off and it sounds like he's asking me for permission. I toss him the keys to the rental. He snags them in the air. "Thank you," he says quietly.

"You're welcome."

*********************************

We've been back in Chicago for thirty days. Yeah, I've been counting the days, the hours, the minutes. It's like it was between my husband and me, like it was when he asked me for the divorce. The goddamn Mountie mask is still firmly in place. We haven't had a conversation about anything significant since we got back. It's all work and sleep, work and sleep. The kids have been over almost every weekend since we got back and we do the best we can at putting on the happily married front. They're just happy that we're here and that they can come to the house. The grownups of the family can tell that we're a little off, but since they don't know any of what's happened between us they assume it's just grieving. And it is I guess, but for me it's not about Kowalski. I want my husband back but I don't know how to make that happen. The only bright spot I guess is that Frannie has actually come over to the house a couple of times with the kids. I try not to dwell on the fact that I'm getting my sister back just as my marriage is crashing and burning.

We're still sharing a bed, but we barely touch. He sleeps beside me the way he use to stand guard at the consulate, rigid, in his own tiny box of space, with not even a twitch of movement I don't know how to do this anymore. Something's gotta give and I think it'll be me.

The phone rings in the living room and it takes me a minute to identify the sound. The family usually calls on the non emergency cell phone. Once I identify the sound, I pick up the receiver. I glance at my watch, another late night for Fraser.

"Hello."

"Lt. Vecchio?" No one addresses me by that title.

"Yeah, this is Lt. Vecchio."

"Hello, Lieutenant. This is Mary Evans at Chicago Memorial. Your husband was brought in here a little while ago. He's okay. He's fine, but he was involved in a car accident. Dr. Gersh is keeping him overnight for observation."

"Did my husband ask you to call me?" There is a slight hesitation on the other end of the line. It never occurred to Mary that he might not want me there. Benny and I have been in the hospital so many times over the years that we're pretty well known by the staff, especially the emergency room staff. I'm sure she looked around saw him, saw that his other half wasn't there and just picked up the phone on reflex.

"I...is there a reason that I shouldn't have called." "No, Mary it's fine. Everything is fine. I'll be there as soon as I can."

By the time I get to the hospital. He's already in a room. I find out from Doctor Gersh that he has a concussion and his ribs are bruised. Given the number of head injuries he's had over the years, the Doctor decided to keep him in the hospital overnight instead of letting him come home. I also find out from the Doctor that it was a single car accident. Just Benny and a tree. I'm surprised. I figured that Benny got rear-ended. He drives like everyone's grandma. And he has been flipped off more times than I can count.

When I get in the room he's sitting in a chair staring out of the window. He's paler than usual, there's a bandage on the side of his head. The doctor also mentioned that they taped his ribs. He looks quickly at me and then away. I am more relieved than I can say that he's okay. Apparently a lot more than I can say.

"I wish I felt less for you." I say. It's just out there. I'm pretty sure I meant to say how are you feeling. And his answering voice is low, ragged, exhausted.

"As little as you felt for me when you went to Las Vegas?" "We weren't even together then."

This time he looks at me without turning away. "Ray, you and I both know that even then we were more than friends. Even if we couldn't name it. The current ran deep between us and you left me." There is nothing really accusatory in his tone, just a sort of statement of fact in that annoying way he has.

I take a step closer to him. "If I had loved you less then I woulda stayed. I needed to go to fuckin' Vegas to breathe. And when I got there I realized I made a mistake but I was stuck. I couldn't come back. And I can't believe we're talking about Vegas. We weren't married then. We're married now Benny, nearly six goddamned years and you were having an affair. You cheated on me." And now he's as pale as the dead and he looks like I punched him.

"Me and the desert got nothing on you." I growl.

"I thought you left me."

I'm trying to keep it together, but he's stuck five years ago. I wonder if this is some type of amnesia the doctor neglected to mention. He hasn't spoken to me in almost thirty damn days, not really and this is the shit he has on his mind. My hands starts to clench and I want to punch him in the face. Concussion or no concussion I want to punch him in that fuckin' amazing mouth, the mouth that he probably frenched Stanley Kowalski with. I want to punch him hard in that mouth and watch him bleed. I want to see him bleed bad and this is so much worse than that night on the train platform. I just wanted to stop him. I was proud of being man enough to step up to the task.

But now, I just want the blood to run...I just want to hurt him. And I know if I do I won't be as sorry as I should be. I guess in this particular minute it does matter what he did with Kowalski and I can't forgive. I turn my back to him because maybe if I don't look at him...

"Please don't leave." I hear the unspoken "me"

I know that people say that they've been so angry that they see red. And I have been really angry in my life but nothing like this. Despite all the crimes of passion I've worked in my career, for the first time I really, truly understand seeing red. I get a flash that blinds me and sets the inside of my head on fire. This annoying son of a bitch couldn't make me feel like this if he were dead. I press my palms as hard as I can into the wall, trying to release the pressure in my head through my hands.

Underneath this homicidal anger, I can feel the fear creeping in that if I can't get this under control I'm gonna go from seeing red to spilling red. I yank the door open and start running. My shoes slip a little on the carpet but I don't let that stop me.

I get some strange looks from the staff, but all I can think about is distance and I keep running. Distance will put a stop to this fire in my head. I don't stop running until I get to the car. Then I don't stop driving until I realize that Dief is probably in the house crossing his back legs. This is the first night he's been with us in a while and I forgot to unlock the doggy door. He was looking after Ma while we were in hell and when we got back it took him a only a couple of days to get a read on what was going on between Benny and me. He tried to talk to me. I guess he probably tried to talk to Benny, then he stopped talking to either one of us. The wolf asked to go back to Ma's. He was only with us tonight because Ma was visiting one of her sisters. And she's allergic to animal hair.

I don't know what the next level of punishment is after a wolf stops speaking to you but the glare he gives me when I let him out says that I'm there. I do explain what happened to Benny and he just gives me this frown and walks away. I thought about buying a bottle of something on the way home but I gotta think through this. Cause there have gotta be other options besides a. killing my husband, b. staying so drunk that I don't have the will to. I think this is the first time since I've known him that I haven't stayed in the hospital with him when he had to stay overnight.

I stretch out on the couch and think about things I don't want to think about. Not so much about Kowalski, but about how a Canadian government issued car that's in excellent condition, driven by a man who observes every posted traffic regulation and doesn't do any drugs or drink alcohol could end up wrapped round a tree without interference from another car. I know what I've learned on the job about these kinds of accidents. Oh God, this can't be that kind of accident. And then I am up, looking in my weapons safe for the divorce papers that I never signed.

**********************************************

I hadn't formed any clear intent to pick him up from the hospital. After I found the divorce papers, I found a Cabernet that was given to us as a housewarming present. I drank straight from the bottle and wasn't feeling much of anything when I finally nodded off. My internal clock usually wakes me much later but this morning it woke me at just the right time to get dressed and get to the hospital. So that's what I did.

I let the nurses know I'm here and give them a small duffle with a change of clothes for Benny. I didn't tell him I was coming and I figure if he doesn't want to come with me, he'll tell the nurse when she gives him the clothes. I step into the men's room and surprise myself. I just grabbed a suit and put it on. At least that's what I thought. As I stare in the mirror, I realize that the suit I'm wearing was an anniversary present from Benny. Our first anniversary. We'd gone to buy a suit for Frankie, Jr. I guess Benny saw this one. It's a kind of forest green, double breasted lightweight wool, it's not Armani but it's a fine piece of clothing. When he gave it to me he said that night after we went shopping for our nephew, he had a dream about me wearing the suit. Of course in the dream he was getting me out of the suit, but still...that night after we went to dinner he got to make the dream come true.

This is definitely power dressing or a peace offering. I splash some water on my face, take a minute to breathe, to remind myself to stay calm no matter what. To remember what matters.

When I enter his room he's standing beside the chair, staring out of the window. He's changed into the clothes I gave the nurse. I don't get any closer to him then just inside the closed door. He turns to look at me but he's doing what they teach you in those public speaking classes. He's really looking just over my shoulder at the wall.

"Tell me what happened with the car, Benny." He does. He tells me the facts, the facts the way I could read them in the insurance report. Man thinks he sees something in the road, swerves to avoid it, hits tree. The facts, but not the truth. He's not telling me the truth. And I just stare at him for a few minutes, trying to get my thoughts together, while he looks over my shoulder.

"Benton," he doesn't look at me. "I understand that you might want out of this marriage, but please don't put me in the position of having to tell our nephew that his favorite uncle is dead." I mean it to sound forceful and commanding. Instead my voice sounds like a broken thing.

But now he's looking right at me. Without the mask. And the clear blue eyes I use to get lost in are black holes. And the panic on his face is like a drowning man who knows that the rescue isn't coming. Then his eyes are suddenly gone, covered by his hands as he drops into the chair. His shoulders begin to shake and then he's crying. I go to him immediately and stroke my hands through his hair. This is my favorite kind of silk, better than silk ties or silk shirts, better than silk boxers. I close my eyes for a minute and moments from our honeymoon flash across the screen of my eyelids. That's when I first learned how much he liked this. Just my fingers in his hair. Yeah we screwed like bunnies on the honeymoon, but the best times of those two weeks was when it was just me holding him. Doing this by the campfire, by the pool.

It's been a long time since I touched him intimately. And this may be the last time. There are more things I need to say to him before we leave this room. Whether it goes easy or hard it's up to him. I just want a few minutes of the way it use to be, with the person I thought I would spend the rest of my life. But we can't go back, the shuddering of his body beneath my hand pulls me out of the memory.

"God, Benny you're the love of my life." And my voice is still not working right.

He's still crying but I hear him say. "As you are mine." My fingers keep threading though his hair. "We're still in the filing period for the divorce papers." His hand tightens in the fabric of my pant leg.

"I signed the papers last night. They're in my pocket." I can feel him trembling under my hand. "I can't do this anymore Benny. Not like this." I crouch in front of him, clasping both his hands in mine.

"We're not even on the roof baby. We're bleeding on the sidewalk."

There's a light knock on the door and it opens. "Lt. Vecchio?" I don't bother to turn around. I can imagine what we must look like. "We need about fifteen minutes." It's not gonna take long for it to get around the hospital that something's not right with the Lieutenant and the Mountie.

After the door closes, "I don't know what to do," he whispers. "You have to start telling the truth, caro."

He looks at me. A little of the darkness recedes from his eyes. "I love you." He says as he presses his lips to mine. And that is a fact, but it's only half of the truth.

I figured it might go down like this and I'm prepared. It would be so easy to open to him, to let this be the answer but I pull away. My eyes hold his and I brush my thumb along his cheek. It's hard for me to see all of that pain. And suddenly I wish I loved him more or enough to take it away. I make a stab at telling the truth, a truth anyway.

"Last night when I was here, when we were fighting. I wanted to hurt you....physically. I think for a couple of seconds there I wanted you dead. I really think I wanted you dead. For a man with access to lots of guns that's no good Benny. I'm scared that the feeling will come back. I'm scared that it might come back when I'm armed and in a split second everything would be over. " The rest I don't say out loud, but it's starting to nag at me that maybe when he was running for Victoria, maybe that was really the first time I saw red.

"I made a mistake in Arizona, about the shrink. With our assignments we can't afford to have that kind of thing in our jackets. That was my thinking. This is family business. But we ...we can't stop the bleeding on our own."

He's watching me closely waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Sister Mary Agnes does counseling at the church. She's a licensed psychologist, and she's got no ties to law enforcement. Anything we say to her is privileged and confidential like a confession bound by the laws of God, not man. It's better than a regular head shrinker. I know you have other truths baby, if you can't say them to me maybe you can say them to her."

"Ray, I've done....I can't."

I kiss him, the next words I have to say are hard. I never imagined that I would ever say them. "I brought the divorce papers with me because it's come down to this Benny. I've talked to Sister Mary Agnes and she can see us this morning. If you don't come with me, I'm gonna go to the courthouse and file the papers."

"You're leaving me." There is a flat resignation in his voice. He doesn't seem to get the big picture.

"I'm not....We're not going to make it like this baby. We...Christ, I really wanted to hurt you. That's not the kind of marriage you want is it?"

He presses his hand against the lapel of my suit. "This is my favorite suit. It makes your eyes so luminous, so exquisite. So...when I look into your eyes, it anchors me and ...I have not been able, that is to say I can't ... I. Please don't leave me."

I can feel pieces of my heart shredding. I lean up and press my lips to his forehead, then pull him gently into my arms. "I promised `til death, but we're in sickness right now baby. It's not the sickness I expected, you know. I was thinkin' someday when you were old and gray I'd have to change a bed pan or give you a sponge bath or something. But this.... if something doesn't change, I don't think I'll get to see you old and gray."

*************************************

I walked out of the meeting with Sister Mary Agnes. Ran out actually, I guess is the truth. Not because of Kowalski. Benny finally said it, said the words. "I slept with Stan." And because I already knew that part it wasn't a shock. I was able to hear it without reacting. It was the other stuff. The other things he said. He wasn't having an affair with Kowalski. At least not what most people would call an affair. Not what I had in my head after I heard the tape. Every last one of his tells put in an appearance. He wouldn't make eye contact with either me or the Sister. He stared at his hands, which started to shake when he explained about the first time Stan touched him. I'd been in Vegas sixty days. It wasn't so much what he said I guess, even though that was horrible. It was the way that he said it. The shame in his voice. As I stand here on the steps of the church, like a coward, watching the traffic, that's what's hardest to deal with. His shame is so deep.

Benny's "relationship" with Stanley consisted mostly of the two of them jacking each other off or sucking each other off in Stan's car, a few times in alleys, generally during stakeouts. They'd both been left by people they loved. Neither of them understood why. Grieving and bleeding, that was the best they could do.

According to Benny, they never went to either of their places, never shared a bed until Arizona, never even talked about what they did together, ever. And when I came back they just stopped. Benny said that while it was happening it was like what he imagined drug euphoria to be. During the act it felt great, but afterwards.....

In Arizona he could feel that Stan was slipping away. Their history made Benny think that he could save Stanley by touching him, by sleeping with him. "I don't know how to keep people from leaving me." Benny said at the end. And talk about crappy timing. That's when I ran out of the office. I should have tried harder to reach him while I was in Nevada. Benny is sharp. I could have come up with something only he would figure out. He figured out the postcard. I should never have gone to Vegas in the first place.

And a.v., I was so self-involved. I was just happy that he wanted to be with me. I never bothered to ask him if he had been with anyone while I was gone. I didn't really ask about anything in the time I was away. I should have. Then we might not be here. Our marriage might not be falling apart. Arizona might have happened differently. My husband wouldn't be running his car into trees. The divorce papers are burning a hole in my pocket. Maybe I'm the worst thing to happen to him. Maybe I should grow a pair and do what needs doing.

"Ray?" Sister Mary Agnes is standing behind me. I didn't even hear the door open.

"Yes, Sister." I can't look at her. I don't want to see the coward I am reflected in her eyes. "Are you coming back inside?"

"I've messed him up. I'm the worst thing that's ever happened to him."

"He doesn't think so."

"Yeah he's like that."

"He's just told you the worst thing he's ever done. And you're standing out here watching cars drive by. This was your idea, you brought him here. What exactly do you want Ray?"

In the Sister's office, Benny is huddled in the corner of the couch twisting his wedding band. When I open the door he doesn't look up. He's so pale. Probably exhausted, it's been a long day.

I reach into my jacket and pull out the divorce papers. I tear them in half, then into smaller and smaller pieces which I toss into the Sister's garbage can.

"I should have taken better care of your heart. All those years ago... I won't make that mistake again." I move so that I'm standing in front of him, then I crouch down cause he's still not looking at me. His hand continues to worry his wedding band. My hand slides over his to stop the movement. "Look at me Benny."

He doesn't. "Please caro." Finally, he lifts his chin and tries to do the staring over my shoulder thing. "Look at me." His eyes drift down. And I try to put whatever he needs to see in my eyes. I keep myself from flinching at the desolation in his. He reaches out and trails his fingers across my cheek bone.

"I promise you I will never make that mistake again, caro." His mouth works like he's going to say something but instead the tears come. I get up on the sofa beside him and pull his head down to my chest. My fingers thread through his hair as I whisper over and over "I love you."

It's been four weeks now. And it's been a lot better than the previous four weeks. I guess almost any improvement would be. I haven't had any alcohol in the last month. It's not like I was a candidate for Betty Ford, but I was scaring myself. There are still some dark days. For both of us. Sometimes I am resentful that I have to go to counseling. A.V. I passed the psych eval with flying colors, so it's a little ridiculous that now I'm on a couch. Sometimes Benny gets overwhelmed and has to spend the night away from me. Usually he takes Dief and bunks in at the consulate.

I still have a lot of hope that we won't be a statistic, that I won't be a two time loser. I still have a lot of hope that we will have that second honeymoon afterall.

End A to Z: In Sickness and Health