Danny’s parole officer, Bruce, took his job very seriously.  A lot of people would question his ability to properly do this job after the events of September, but in my opinion, there was not a damn thing that he could have or should have done differently.

Unlike so many, Danny’s natural charisma and charm never fazed Bruce in the least.  He made it quite clear from the beginning that he was not a friend and that if Danny even so much as strayed an inch from the guidelines of his parole, then Bruce would be more than happy to send his criminal ass back to prison.  In fact…I had the distinct impression that the parole officer was hoping for just that opportunity.

With me, he was a bit different.  I was not a criminal.

After completing the initial interview, Bruce wearily removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose before giving me a direct look. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, “Your life will be drastically altered because of your association with Daniel.  You may as well forget words like privacy and freedom.  If you want to change your mind now is the time to do it.”

With my hands folded primly in my lap, I assured Bruce that I was fully prepared for anything that was necessary.

This was not what he wanted to hear and in one last ditch effort, his manner went from fatherly to brutal.

“Did he tell you exactly WHY he was in prison?  Do you KNOW the details?”

I nodded. 

“Yes…he told me.  He committed rape.”

“But did he tell you that his victim was a teen-aged boy?”

Well, okay…no.  Danny had omitted that crucial detail in his confession and Bruce must have realized that when I paled a bit.  It wasn’t so much the fact that the victim had been male rather than female, because rape is not restricted to gender…it was the fact that I had to hear it from Bruce and not from Danny.  I was not sickened so much as mortified at my own ignorance and betrayed that Danny had left me vulnerable to this assault.

Once I’d composed myself though, I realized that Bruce’s words had made me angry and rather than discourage me, they had only deepened my resolve. 

“I have a question for you Bruce,” I said, glaring right back at him.  “How can you do your job when you don’t even believe in it?”

And with that, Bruce approved our living arrangements and my life with Danny really began.

Danny’s parole officer hadn’t underestimated his presence in our lives, but because our lives were so very ordinary, his visits were never an imposition.  Often he would drop by and find us curled up watching television, having dinner or playing some board game at our kitchen table. 

At first, the visits were rather awkward.  Bruce would survey our apartment with a suspicious eye, conduct a brief interrogation with Danny in clipped tones and then escort him personally to the bathroom for a piss test.  Personally, I could never pee in front of somebody watching me like a hawk, but evidently Danny could and the business was concluded in short order.

Gradually, though, Bruce warmed up to us.  He was never less than professional, but I could sense a thawing in his icy demeanor toward Daniel.  Perhaps it was the fact that we met every condition of the parole without complaint or the fact that we extended our hospitality to him cheerfully whenever he showed up at our door…either way…eventually Bruce began to relax the choke chain on Danny’s collar and allowed the two of us a bit more freedom. 

Our first year together was one of the happiest of my life.  My family, with the exception of my father, opened their arms wide to accept Danny.  He began calling my mother, Mom and treated my sisters with typical brotherly affection and teasing. 

The two of us spent occasional long weekends camping or cross-country skiing.  There were trips to the beach and a visit to his grandmother’s farm in Vermont where Danny taught me to drive a tractor.  I remember a man that doted on me, cheering me up when I accidentally hit a squirrel on the road and then burst into tears.  A man that supported me when I’d had a bad day at the office and needed somebody to listen as I complained about it.  He held my hand tightly the night I confronted my father and told him that he was in no position to judge Danny.

One day, I found him sitting on the bedroom floor before the open closet door…a sneaker in one hand and a pair of sweatpants in the other.  Both were items I had purchased earlier that day for him on a whim.  His shoulders were shaking slightly…and until I walked up to him, I didn’t even realize he’d been quietly crying.

“Danny…”I said, “Are you okay…honey.  What’s wrong?”

He looked up at me with reddened eyes and just shook his head. 

“Nobody has ever just bought something for me before like this.  For no reason.  Thank you.”

When it came to his childhood, Danny was a closed book.  He had very little in the way of personal memorabilia.  While my closets were packed with boxes and boxes of pictures, yearbooks, trophies and old letters…the only thing I had of Danny’s past in our possession was one picture taken of him at the age of thirteen.  He didn’t like to talk about it and when the subject came up, he would keep it as brief as possible before diverting the conversation in another direction.  He was so good at it that to be honest…it took me a very long time to notice.

And then one day…I learned something about Danny’s past that explained a lot…

“So…the two of you are happy, no?” Monique said from her seat on the couch.  She smiled at me, lifting the cup of coffee to her lips as if I’d already answered and she was pleased with the response.

Danny’s mother didn’t visit often despite living a mere block away.  There had been several occasions that I had invited her to dinner and at the last minute she had simply not shown up.  This had been a bit of a sore spot between Danny and I however, I didn’t hold him accountable for his mother’s bad behavior. 

Conversely, Monique did expect that Danny would be attentive to her needs.  I knew, without being told, that it had become his habit to visit with her on afternoons on his way home from work.  Inexplicably, this irked me without understanding quite why.  I had a strong suspicion that Danny shared a lot more of what he was thinking with his mother than he did with me.  I chalked it up to petty jealousy and did my best to overcome this undesirable trait.

“I knew the two of you would be perfect for each other,” Monique continued, fairly purring in her self-contentment.  “And the sex…you have to admit…is very good too, no?”

For a moment, I could only stare at her as if I hadn’t understood what she’d just said.  I didn’t even talk to my own mother about my sex life…why on earth would I want to have a conversation with Danny’s mother about it?  Even more, why would she even bring it up?

“You are a very lucky woman,” Monique continued glibly.  If she had noticed my discomfort at all, she decided to ignore it.  “I taught Danny everything he knows about how to please a woman…personally.”

My stomach did a complete somersault and landed somewhere on the floor in front of me.  Nausea threatened to overwhelm me as I realized the implication of her claim.

The face of the woman that I had considered a friend took on a darker tone…and instead of an exotic woman of the world, I saw a monster…a predator.  She put her cup down and looked at me with disapproval.

“Danny has told me that the two of you are not having sex as often as he would like.  I gave him to you because I thought you would make him happy…but he is not happy.  Danny is a very sexual person.  I thought you understood that.”

My face was as hot as a thousand burning suns…and probably just as red.  There were too many emotions to sort out and I could only sit there, my mouth hanging open like an idiot, unable to respond to any of her words.  How could Danny say such a thing…to HIS mother?  He’d never complained to me about our sex life…wasn’t three, four or even five times a week a reasonable amount?  I didn’t know and suddenly I wasn’t sure.  It wasn’t like I had compared notes with anyone that I knew…

And I was furious…at Danny.  How could he have put me in such a position? 

“I love you like a daughter, Laurie. That’s why I’m here to give you this advice.  If you want to keep Danny…you may want to start thinking about his needs rather than your own.”

I could not believe the gall of this woman…this monster…this sick, sick bitch.  I wanted to jump up from my chair and claw her eyes out.  Instead, I nodded and told her that I would take her advice to heart.  She patted me on the shoulder, gave me hug…and then left.  I walked into my bathroom and vomited.