I had been upset all day and couldn’t focus on schoolwork. Last night, my father had been brought down to the police station for questioning in the murder of Simon York, a lawyer my mother was working with on a case. I guess what upset me the most was that mother had been accused of having an affair with this guy and my father had killed him in a jealous rage. Of course, I knew better. Things couldn’t have been better between my parents. However, it didn’t look that way to the police department. The murder had occurred this past weekend. And this past weekend, my parents had gone off to the Bayberry Inn for a romantic getaway. They were alone together, and each other’s alibi’s. Bo Buchanan, the police commissioner, was skeptical and released my father pending confirmation of his alibi. I guess what really tee’d me off was that the Banner printed a “supposed” love letter from my mom to her “lover”. Of course the police department had the original letter, and I can only guess how the Banner got a copy - Aunt Viki was off on a publisher’s conference and my cousin, Kevin, was calling the shots at the Banner and he hated my father.

Both my parents were upset and angry. My mother vehemently denied writing any love letter, however, the police had requested a handwriting sample to confirm or deny that the note in question was in her handwriting. My father was upset over the fact he was brought to the police station - once again, for a crime he did not commit. And he was worried for my mother if someone had gone out of their way to kill her associate and frame her husband - they just might go after her…or her kids…

It was upsetting to all of us. These past few weeks my parents had been especially lovey-dovey and I just knew in my heart there was no way my mother would have jeopardized her marriage by having an affair.

Amy found me as I was throwing my books into my car.
“Hey Trevor! Wait!” came her voice.
“Hi Amy,” I said wrinkling my brow as I leaned against my car. She leaned into me.
“You’re worried, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Worried - concerned - pissed - especially pissed that someone would accuse my parents of a crime of passion…” I said flatly crossing my arms.
“Trev - I want you to know I’m here. You can talk to me if you want to,” said Amy sweetly as she rubbed my arm. Her hair fell in dark curls on her shoulders and she looked absolutely gorgeous.
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer,” I said, “I know my mother very well - and her heart is committed to my father. She would not betray him like this.”
God! I could lose myself in her eyes.
It was silent between us.
“So…Amy…can I do that then? Can I talk to you? Maybe tonight? Can I come over tonight?” I asked nervously.
“Yeah…” she whispered, “I’ll be home…”
“Hey Trev…” said my brother, Tyler walking up.
“Hey Big Tee…” said Taylor walking up behind him.
Both of them were as upset as I am, “Hi Ty - Hey Tail…” I remarked. They were both cutting football and cheerleading practice.
“We gotta pick up Terri in a few…” said Taylor flatly.
“Yeah - I could use a good dose of Terri right about now…” muttered Tyler. His face was so intense as if he was internalizing his hurt and pain. Taylor and I could read him like a book.
“Well, if it isn’t the Mannings,” said Brady Buchanan sauntering up, “I heard your old man is the top suspect in a murder…”
I glared at him and Tyler became incensed. Amy took my hand.
“Shut up Buchanan!” said Tyler coldly taking a defensive position.
“Our father didn’t kill anyone,” I added.
“Your father is a criminal. He always was and always will be…” said Brady with a touch of sarcasm to his voice.
Taylor got in Brady’s face, “Our father did not kill anyone. Our father and our mother were together this past weekend - alone on a romantic holiday…”
“Your father? Romantic? Ha! I can’t picture a romantic rapist….” spat Brady.
Taylor backed off, “Rape?” she whispered.
“My father is not a rapist. He adores my mother…” exclaimed Tyler, holding his stance, clenching and unclenching his fists.
“Like he adored a woman named Marty Saybrooke?” asked Brady crossing his arms smugly.
“We don’t know anyone named Marty Saybrooke…” I said defensively walking up beside Tyler.
“My father - the police commissioner - told me all about it…maybe you should ask your father about it…” said Brady walking away.
Tyler made a move to go after him but Taylor grabbed his arm, “Don’t Ty! Brady’s not worth another suspension…”
“Our father is not a rapist!” insisted Tyler.
“We need to talk to him about this…” I said knowing full well that my father had once struck my mother in a violent act.
“Trev - we need to get Terri….” Said Taylor responsibility.
“Then we go to the paper…” said Tyler with authority.
“Sure - but I don’t think we should talk about this in front of Terri. She’s too young…” I insisted. I opened my door.
Amy got in my face, “Are you still coming by?”
“Yes,” I said. Tyler and Taylor got in my car and we drove off.

Terri knew something was wrong, aside from the fact of my father’s questioning and my mother’s foul disposition over the situation. It was unusual for all of us to be together after school. She sat in the back seat with Tyler and was uncharacterically quiet. As we turned into the business district of town, Terri spoke up.

“Where are we going Trevor?” she asked seriously.
“To the paper…” I said stopping for a red light.
“Are we going to see Daddy?” asked Terri.
“Yup,” said Tyler lightly.
Taylor, who was in the front seat with me, turned around and looked at Terri, “Little Tee, you got homework tonight?”
“I’ve got spelling words Taylor,” answered Terri.
I got the green light and drove on.
“I’ll help you later, o.k.” said Taylor trying to smile.
“O.k. I want to learn them all so I cam make Daddy happy,” said Terri sincerely.
I pulled into the parking lot and Tyler held Terri’s hand as we walked through the newsroom. Starr came rushing out of the pressroom, a pencil behind her ear, almost running us over.
“Hey guys!” said Starr surprised to see us, “What brings you guys down here? Here to cheer up Dad? He’s in a foul mood…”
“Not really,” I said intensely.
Starr got serious and took me aside, motioning for the others to wait.
“What’s going on?” whispered Starr, “You know our father is very upset and Téa - your mother - is also in a foul mood…”
Our mother had gone to her office today to try and get some work done but if I knew her, her mind clearly would not be on work.
“Brady Buchanan just told us our father is a convicted rapist…” I whispered.
“And you want to hear it from the horse’s mouth - is that it?” asked Starr firmly.
“Starr - the man I know to be my father wouldn’t do that…” I replied.
“Leave Terri with me while the 3 of you go to talk to him but let me warn you - Dad’s in a foul mood and this will only upset him more…” said Starr.
My face fell, “Then - there’s truth?” I muttered.
“He won’t lie to you…” replied Starr.
I nodded my head and while Starr entertained a frustrated Terri who threw a fit because we wouldn’t let her see our father, Tyler, Taylor, and I went to talk to our father.
As we walked in, our father was staring at a proof a headline. He threw it on his desk and looked up, his face allowing a slight smile to escape his lips.
“So…what brings my kids by? Where’s Terri?” he asked.
We approached his desk, “She’s with Starr Dad…” I said.
My father stood up and crossed his arm, “So what’s this about? It’s got to be serious if my son and daughter are cutting their extracurricular activities. Is it about the accusations leveled against me…and your mother?”
“Not really Dad…” spoke up Taylor.
Tyler, his face, so tense I thought he would burst a blood vessel said, “Brady Buchanan said you’re a rapist. He said you were and always will be a criminal. He said you raped a girl named Marty Saybrooke…”
My father’s mouth dropped and he reached down on his desk, grabbing a framed picture and flinging it across the room. The glass shattered on the wall. My father looked absolutely incensed.
“Dad, is it true?” muttered Taylor above a whisper.
“Damn the Buchanans…” muttered my father clearly enraged.
“Not you Dad! Not you!” exclaimed Tyler running up to our father and wrapping his arms around him - clinging to him. Tyler’s physical presence seemed to calm my father’s rage.
Our father put his hands on Tyler’s shoulder and looked him square in the eyes, his mouth trembling, “I’m not going to lie to you son. When I was in college…I did something unthinkable to Marty Saybrooke…I…raped her…” my father choked on the word.
Taylor turned into me and I held her shaking body in my arms… myself numb from his confirmation.
“Madre Dios!” muttered Tyler looking into the tormented eyes of our father, “You didn’t do it. You didn’t…”
“I did Tyler - I did…” spat my father disgusted with himself. Tyler continued to cling to my father.
“Dad…is Brady right? Are you still a criminal? Did you do what the police suspect you did?” asked Taylor clearly upset - her eyes swelling up with tears. I stood in shock over his admission and our reaction.
“Buchanan is wrong Taylor. He’s dead wrong. I didn’t kill anyone because…more than anything…I wanted your mother and our family to be together and I wouldn’t do a thing to jeopardize that…” replied my father, his voice weak and fragile - drained emotionally.
There was an awkward silence between us.
I spoke up, “Dad, you once told me you had struck our mother - hurt her even - did you ever …rape her?” I asked intensely.
My father’s eyes grew distant and even more disgusted, and I could tell he was totally repulsed by my question but he understood I had to ask it. Tyler, still clinging to our father, looked up into those distraught eyes of our father’s. Our father stepped away from Tyler and reached for the phone and we intently watched his every move.
“Téa…”
Pause.
“We need to have a family meeting immediately there’s a few questions… we have to answer…for our kids…”
Pause.
“Good. I’ll see you soon. At the house.”
He hung up the phone and arranged to have Terri with Starr. Then we went home, our father not saying a word to us - I suspect waiting to be in the calming presence of our mother.