Joe Gribble - Darkest Edge

“Hey Mark,” Ellen said.

Mark, startled, quickly slid the drawer shut. He turned to look at Ellen.

Ellen was in her late twenties, with the look of a fashion model. She bent slightly at the waist toward him, holding onto the short wall, advertising lots of cleavage. Ellen didn’t have the greatest reputation with the reporter tribe. Everyone knew she had moved quickly up the ranks of the camera team, leaving carnage in her path. Rumor was she had her sights set on becoming a reporter. What a joke. Even so, Mark knew he had to have his guard up.

“You need any help finishing that story on the mayor?” Ellen asked.

Mark shook his head. “No. I’m almost done,” Mark said as he flipped on his computer monitor.

Ellen stepped in and sat in the little, plastic guest chair each cubicle was allowed. “I’d be glad to help. You know I’m interested in the investigative side.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard. I’ll let you know. Ernie’s giving me a hand.”

“But Ernie’s out on a run with Juan. I doubt he’ll be back until this afternoon. I can help,” Ellen said.

Mark looked hard at Ellen. “No. I said I can handle it.”

Ellen held up her hands. “Okay. Just offering. No need to snap. You all right?”

Mark ground his teeth before he exploded: “I’M FINE! What is it with everyone around here?”

Ellen jumped back. She stood up and took a step toward the small cubicle exit.

Several of the reporters in the other cubicles looked their way. One of them started to stand up.

Mark saw the concern on the other reporter’s face. Mark held his hand up, nodded at the other reporter. “It’s all good,” Mark said.

The reporter sat back down, but kept his eye on Mark and Ellen.

Ellen stood in the cubicle exit. “Sorry, Mark. You just seem distracted. No need to snap at me.” She stepped out and went to visit with the reporter who had been watching them.

Mark watched her leave, then gulped his spiked coffee and logged into his computer. He paused when the screen saver showed a picture of him, his wife, and daughter — happier times. His throat tightened.

Mark pulled into the driveway of his house. Well, right now it was her house, not his house. Not their house. He hesitated. He was full of excitement. And dread.

He climbed out of the car and went up the steps to the porch. He tentatively raised his fist to knock. He looked at his hand. It felt bizarre — knocking on his own door.

The inner door suddenly swung open and Rachel raced out through the screen door and jumped in his arms, squeezing him in a hug as the screen door slammed shut behind her.

“Daddy!” she said.

Mark held her tightly. God how he missed holding her. He didn’t want to ever let go. He relented after a few seconds and looked at her. “Hi, sweetheart,” he said as he kissed her forehead.

“We’re going to the park, right?” Rachel asked.

“Sure honey. Whatever you want,” Mark said.

Amanda stepped to the door. She pushed the screen door open and leaned against the door frame.

Mark looked at her. “Hi, Honey,” he said.

Amanda shook her head. She touched Rachel on the shoulder. “Why don’t you go get that artwork you wanted to show your dad? “

“Okay,” Rachel said as she let go of Mark’s shoulders and slid back to the ground. She scurried back into the house.

Amanda leaned close to Mark. Sniffed. “You sober?”

“Of course I am.”

“Make sure you stay that way,” Amanda said. “I want her back here by eight. She has school tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Mark said. “Thanks for letting me see her.”

Amanda wrung her hands. “Just don’t do anything stupid. If I find out you’ve been drinking…”

Mark felt the stab as sure as if were a dagger. “I wouldn’t. Look Amanda, we have to talk sometime.”

Amanda started to say something. Hesitated. Then: “You get sober. Then maybe we can talk. Honestly, I don’t know who you are any more, Mark. Just get sober… get some help. Please?”

Mark stared at Amanda for a few seconds, his shoulders slowly slumping as she stared harshly at him, arms still crossed.

Rachel came running back to the door, backpack slung over her shoulder. “I have tons of stuff to show you, Daddy,” she said.

Mark’s mood lifted considerably. “I can’t wait to see it,” he said.

Amanda dropped to her knee and grabbed Rachel by the arm. “Give Mommy a hug.”

Rachel wrapped her arms around Amanda.

“You behave,” Amanda told Rachel as she let go of their daughter.

“I will, Mommy,” Rachel said.

Rachel grabbed Mark’s hand and pulled him away. “Let’s go already.”

Mark wanted to hug Amanda, but he thought better. He let Rachel pull him toward his car.

“Remember what I said, Mark,” Amanda yelled after them.

Mark glanced back. He forced a smile as Rachel drug him along. He opened the back door and she scrambled into her seat. “Let’s get some food and take it to the park,” Mark said.

“Cool,” Rachel said.

Two hamburgers and a backpack sat open on the picnic table. Rachel pulled a notebook from her backpack and flipped it open, displaying several hand-drawn pictures. “This was my first drawing, a giraffe,” she said between munching on french fries.

Mark put down his drink and picked up the drawing. He examined it closely. “That’s a great giraffe. Did you do it with a pencil?” he asked.

“Charcoal. My teacher showed me how. She really liked it.”

“Well, I think she’s right. This is an amazing drawing.”

Rachel took a bite from her burger, then flipped the page to another charcoal drawing — a skunk.

“Wow,” Mark said. “Incredible. I can’t draw a straight line. Where’d you get all this talent?”

“I don’t know,” Rachel said. “Maybe Mom.”

Rachel got very silent.

Mark could tell her mood had changed when she looked up at him.

“When are you coming home, Daddy?” she asked.

Mark’s heart sank. He looked back down at the skunk drawing, then flipped the page to see if there were any more pictures. He struggled for an answer. His voice wavered: “I don’t know, baby. Your mom…we still have stuff to talk over.”

“I hope it’s soon, Daddy,” Rachel said. “I really miss you.”

Rachel hugged Mark.

Mark choked back his tears. “I miss you, too, Rachel… so much,” he said as he hugged her back. Slowly, Mark let go of her. He pretended to blow his nose on a napkin, wiped his eyes.

Rachel spotted a friend. “Hey, there’s Nancy. Can I go play with her?”

“Yeah. Sure,” Mark said as he finished drying his eyes. “Just stay close, okay?” Mark watched intently as Rachel ran to join her friend. He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes again.

Mark stepped up to the door of his house…. ‘Amanda’s house’, he reminded himself. He carried a sleeping Rachel, holding her backpack in his other hand. He rang the doorbell.

Amanda opened the door. She looked angry. Hell, she always looked angry lately.

“You’re late,” she said as she opened the screen door. “I told you she has school tomorrow.”

“It’s only eight thirty,” Mark said.

“And she’s exhausted,” Amanda said.

“We went to the park,” Mark said. “Some good fresh air. I’ll put her to bed.”

Amanda took the backpack.

Mark started in the door, but Amanda put the backpack down inside the doorway and reached for Rachel.

“I’ll take her,” Amanda said.

“Come on, Amanda. Let me do it,” Mark twisted away, trying to hold on to Rachel.

Amanda took a step out of the door and pulled at Rachel’s arm.