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BABY CAROLINE had been fussing for her afternoon meal, and Cissie was eager to accommodate. When she reached out for her child in the Emergency room’s numbered cubicle, neither Chelsea nor I could miss seeing a broad bruise on her forearm.
In my imagination I heard Ronald’s disclaimer. “She’s lying, Officer. The woman is a total klutz.” But that wouldn’t fly this time. Even if Cissie fabricated her own “clumsy” excuse, her present injuries had surely triggered an official, “These are your resources...” speech.
"Will Mrs. Voight be staying overnight?" I inquired of the nurse who came to make notes on Cissie's chart.
"No, she's got her discharge papers and prescriptions. She's good to go whenever she’s ready." The young woman cast a concerned glance toward Cissie before moving onto her next responsibility.
I pulled up one of the two chairs, gestured Chelsea into the other. Monitors pinged, and the muted bustle beyond the curtain kept us acutely aware of where we were.
Cissie reluctantly met my eye.
"What'll it be?" I pressed.
She fingered the baby's collar and gazed off into the distance, perhaps all the way into the future.
"He may hurt Caroline," I reminded her. "Maybe not today or tomorrow, but down the road. And he's hurting you now. You don't deserve to be treated like this, Cissie. Nobody does."
"I know, I know." Tears slipped down the young woman's cheeks. "But I love him."
“Understood,” I conceded with a nod. Then I slipped into my own motherly aspect, the authoritative one that said, I'm older; I know more than you.
"When I was dating,” I seemed to reminisce, “I got dumped by a lot of guys. A lot,” I emphasized. “So many that I came up with a way to get over just about anybody."
Cissie’s brow crimped. "You're kidding, right?"
I fixed her with a look that dared her not to take me seriously.
"What did you do?" My perceptive daughter prompted.
“So glad you asked. I concentrated on their faults. Really, really concentrated on their faults."
"And that worked?"
"You bet it did," I declared. "Everybody has faults."
Chelsea’s lips twitched with mischief. "Lucky Dad didn't concentrate on yours."
"Watch it, kid." I teased, and Cissie actually smiled.
Then she abruptly turned inward. Stroked Caroline's soft hair the way you pet a kitten, to give and receive comfort. "I don't know..."
I stood, clasped my hands in front of me. "Then how about just one night. Give yourself a short break from Ronald and see what the shelter's about at the same time."
Ronald’s belief in his own entitlement wouldn’t disappear overnight, but his period of good behavior might last a little longer. Hopefully, long enough for Cissie to start planning a permanent escape.
Caroline had finished nursing. An aide with a wheelchair hovered nearby.
"How about it?" I asked in my most encouraging tone.
Cissie winced as she hefted her daughter into the burp position.
"Okay," she agreed. "One night."