Read Online The Reform Artists: A Legal Suspense, Spy Thriller (The Reform Artists Series Book 1) by Jon Reisfeld - Free Book Online
Authors: Jon Reisfeld
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home, dear.”
“Of course they are, Mom. This is what they know.”
“Justin really misses his dad. He kept asking me when Marty was coming home. I think he’s hoping his dad will be here for his birthday party, Saturday.”
Katie froze. “He won’t be, Mother.”
“Not even for Justin’s party, dear? The boy only turns seven once.”
“No, Mother. I’ve already explained this to you. The restraining order says ‘no contact’ until after the hearing next Monday. And ‘no’ means ‘no.’”
“Justin doesn’t know from restraining orders, sweetie. And you don’t need to tell the judge everything, do you? Let the boy have his daddy at his party!”
Katie stopped emptying the grocery bag. She closed her eyes and frowned as she took a deep breath. “Why don’t you just mind your own business Mother?!” she finally blurted out. “Justin will get over this a lot sooner than you think. Kids, these days, are very resilient. At least, that’s what all the studies say.”
“So, that’s it, dear: marriage over?”
“Yesss!” she hissed, attempting, once more, to reapply the dampers. “Please respect my wishes on this.”
“I can’t. I’m not sure you’ve thought this through. You’re willing to destroy your marriage and to turn your kids’ lives upside down…for what? I think you are making a huge mistake.”
“After everything I’ve told you about Marty’s behavior, I would think you’d understand.”
“Just what did he do that was so bad? Call you a few names? Raise his voice now and then?”
“Yes! And whether you know it or not, that’s abusive behavior.”
“Says who?”
“My lawyer, for one.”
“Of course, she says so, dear. That’s how she makes a living, by getting clients like you all riled up. Did you tell her how you get when you’re angry?”
Katie put her hands on her hips and glared. “Just what is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come on, dear! You forget; I raised you. I’ve lived with that mouth of yours—and your temper. I’ve heard you yell at Marty during your ‘special times.’ I’ve heard the vases and dishes break, too. And Marty wasn’t the one throwing them. So, by your own definition, you’re as much at fault as he is—maybe more.”
“That’s not true, Mother.”
“Of course it is!”
“No,” Katie said, lowering her head and turning away. “Marty assaulted me.”
“What?!” Esther grabbed her daughter by the shoulders, spun her around and searched her face. “Marty hit you, honey? I had no idea. That changes everything. Where? When?”
Katie tried to dodge her mother’s piercing gaze. “He didn’t actually hit me, Mom.”
Esther threw up her hands. “Then I don’t get it,” she said, pulling out a kitchen chair and collapsing into it. “How could he have assaulted you without hitting you?”
Katie looked down at her mother with disdain. “You’re not a lawyer, Mother. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me, dear.”
“Beverly, my lawyer, said the true test for assault is if Marty’s actions ever made me feel scared or threatened, in any way; and they have. ‘Assault’ means any kind of threatening, abusive behavior. You’re confusing ‘assault’ with ‘battery.’”
Esther looked at her daughter as if for the first time. Then she burst out laughing. “What kind of nonsense are you and that lawyer of yours peddling, Katie? Do you really expect me to believe that you’re afraid of Marty?”
“I am, sometimes.”
“Good luck with that, dear.”
“You don’t know what happens in this house when you’re not around, Mother.”
“Katie, the man treats you like a queen!”
“Oh, really?”
“He lets you sleep in on weekends, doesn’t he?”
“Sometimes.”
“He still opens doors for you and carries your bags?”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t object when you took over all the master bedroom closets, did he?”
“What does that prove?”
“Just answer the question, dear.”
“Who are
“Of course they are, Mom. This is what they know.”
“Justin really misses his dad. He kept asking me when Marty was coming home. I think he’s hoping his dad will be here for his birthday party, Saturday.”
Katie froze. “He won’t be, Mother.”
“Not even for Justin’s party, dear? The boy only turns seven once.”
“No, Mother. I’ve already explained this to you. The restraining order says ‘no contact’ until after the hearing next Monday. And ‘no’ means ‘no.’”
“Justin doesn’t know from restraining orders, sweetie. And you don’t need to tell the judge everything, do you? Let the boy have his daddy at his party!”
Katie stopped emptying the grocery bag. She closed her eyes and frowned as she took a deep breath. “Why don’t you just mind your own business Mother?!” she finally blurted out. “Justin will get over this a lot sooner than you think. Kids, these days, are very resilient. At least, that’s what all the studies say.”
“So, that’s it, dear: marriage over?”
“Yesss!” she hissed, attempting, once more, to reapply the dampers. “Please respect my wishes on this.”
“I can’t. I’m not sure you’ve thought this through. You’re willing to destroy your marriage and to turn your kids’ lives upside down…for what? I think you are making a huge mistake.”
“After everything I’ve told you about Marty’s behavior, I would think you’d understand.”
“Just what did he do that was so bad? Call you a few names? Raise his voice now and then?”
“Yes! And whether you know it or not, that’s abusive behavior.”
“Says who?”
“My lawyer, for one.”
“Of course, she says so, dear. That’s how she makes a living, by getting clients like you all riled up. Did you tell her how you get when you’re angry?”
Katie put her hands on her hips and glared. “Just what is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, come on, dear! You forget; I raised you. I’ve lived with that mouth of yours—and your temper. I’ve heard you yell at Marty during your ‘special times.’ I’ve heard the vases and dishes break, too. And Marty wasn’t the one throwing them. So, by your own definition, you’re as much at fault as he is—maybe more.”
“That’s not true, Mother.”
“Of course it is!”
“No,” Katie said, lowering her head and turning away. “Marty assaulted me.”
“What?!” Esther grabbed her daughter by the shoulders, spun her around and searched her face. “Marty hit you, honey? I had no idea. That changes everything. Where? When?”
Katie tried to dodge her mother’s piercing gaze. “He didn’t actually hit me, Mom.”
Esther threw up her hands. “Then I don’t get it,” she said, pulling out a kitchen chair and collapsing into it. “How could he have assaulted you without hitting you?”
Katie looked down at her mother with disdain. “You’re not a lawyer, Mother. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me, dear.”
“Beverly, my lawyer, said the true test for assault is if Marty’s actions ever made me feel scared or threatened, in any way; and they have. ‘Assault’ means any kind of threatening, abusive behavior. You’re confusing ‘assault’ with ‘battery.’”
Esther looked at her daughter as if for the first time. Then she burst out laughing. “What kind of nonsense are you and that lawyer of yours peddling, Katie? Do you really expect me to believe that you’re afraid of Marty?”
“I am, sometimes.”
“Good luck with that, dear.”
“You don’t know what happens in this house when you’re not around, Mother.”
“Katie, the man treats you like a queen!”
“Oh, really?”
“He lets you sleep in on weekends, doesn’t he?”
“Sometimes.”
“He still opens doors for you and carries your bags?”
“Yes.”
“He didn’t object when you took over all the master bedroom closets, did he?”
“What does that prove?”
“Just answer the question, dear.”
“Who are
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