I watched the short, but telling, scene from the tiny concrete slab that passed for my front porch. Nick, a menacing looking guy, the kind who always seemed to be spoiling for a fight, was walking away from his wife, Theresa. She stood there, her coal black hair in disarray, fighting a losing battle. The mixture of fear and resignation on her face was obvious.

Not that I had much experience with women. I didn’t. My own girlfriend broke things off after two-timing me with her old boyfriend, an orthopedic surgeon. My career was just getting started. He was already hugely successful. 

Now, Theresa was taking one final shot in her effort to keep Nick from leaving. “Your mother is coming over later to see the kids. What am I supposed to tell her, Nicky, when she asks where you are?”

Nick, who left for work every morning wearing an ugly blue auto mechanic’s uniform with his first name over his shirt pocket, was dressed that Saturday night in tight black slacks, and a gray dress shirt. He turned his well-shined, pointy black shoes toward Theresa. “I don’t give a fuck what you tell her.”

An older man in need of a shave, who’d been standing on his slab smoking a cigar shouted. “Yo, your kids are standing right in front of you. Shame on you.” He was rewarded with a dirty look and Nick’s middle finger.

Theresa was crushed. I watched her face sag as if I was looking at some aging process unfold in fast-forward mode. She stood there and watched him walk away, her two little boys at her side and her eighteen-month-old daughter in her arms. She’d lost the battle and she knew it. He’d leave her soon.

I couldn’t help it. I stood there gaping at her as she watched her husband drive away, no doubt, to see his girlfriend. When Theresa noticed me, she said, “What the hell are you looking at?”

She was wearing worn jeans. Her striped top had signs of recent food stains, probably her daughter’s gift to her. On impulse, I walked across the courtyard up to her slab and said, “I’m sorry, Theresa, I couldn’t help noticing you and Nick were fighting.”

“Is that what we were doing? You’re not very bright. And how do you know my name?”

“Even dummies like me pick up bits and pieces in this up and down apartment complex.”

She laughed, as I hoped she would. “Up and down?” She asked.

“The way I see it, people who live in beautiful Branch Brook Gardens are either on their way up or on their way down.”

“Oh, and after what you just saw, I guess you figure I’m on my way down.”

“Not necessarily,” I said. “Look, I have a bottle of wine. Would you like to share it with me?”

“My God, you think maybe I’m feeling needy, so you can give me a couple of drinks and get laid?”

I stuck my hands in my pockets and looked over at the empty space where Nick’s Pontiac had been parked. “You’re wrong,” I said. I turned and started walking across the courtyard, back to my apartment.

“Hey," she said, “I guess I could use a glass of wine.”

I turned my head toward her, still walking. “I’ll be back. Get glasses and a couple of chairs. We’ll sit on your porch.” I got to my kitchen and found a bottle of Gallo Burgundy. I picked it up and took a step. An unpleasant thought occurred to me. Was I asking for trouble and possibly a beating at the hands of Nick? It was obvious to me that he didn’t love his wife, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he acted jealous just to impress her, throw her off the track for a while longer.     

Theresa had the chairs on her porch. She had also quickly put the kids to bed and combed her hair. “I’m sorry about what I said before.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Let’s just enjoy the wine and talk about life.”

We chatted about how lousy the apartment complex was and how quickly the summer went by. Ten minutes later, the old guy with the cigar walked up, carrying a folding chair and a half-filled gallon jug of wine. “Can anybody join the party?”

I looked at Theresa, but she just looked down at her flipflops. “Sure," I said. "I’m Sam. This is Theresa.”

“I know Theresa,” he said.

“Hi, Oliver.” 

“That husband of yours, such a mouth on him and a hot guinea temper,” Oliver said.  

“I’m sorry he was so rude to you,” Theresa said.

Olivier pulled out a cigar and lit it. “You know, it ain’t easy living in these conditions, especially with a wife and three kids. It’s been a hot summer, even tougher with no air conditioning.”

“He’s got a girlfriend,” Theresa said. She gulped her wine and extended her glass for a refill.

“I know that, Theresa.”

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“Sammy, when you’ve lived as long as I have, you know these things.”

I drank some wine and smiled at him. “I’m only 27 and I figured that out. Do you have any wisdom to offer Theresa?”

He finished his wine. “Let me have a taste of your Burgundy, kid.” I poured him what was left in the bottle. “Try not to piss him off Theresa. He’s confused and he’s angry. Let him run. Eventually, he’s gonna see that this other dame can’t hold a candle to you.”

Theresa laughed. “Take a good look at me, Oliver. I’m twenty pounds overweight and I have three kids hanging on me all day long.”

“You’re exaggerating,” I said, just to stay in the conversation.

“She’s missing the point is what she’s doing,” Oliver said. “Where’s your husband gonna go? He drives a ten-year-old, ‘65 Pontiac and pays rent in Branch Brook Gardens. He’s not getting no divorce, Theresa. What I’m telling you is you got to hang in there. That’s all. Bide your time.”

“Even if he stays, he doesn’t want to be here. What good is that?” Theresa asked. She looked up and saw her mother-in-law approaching. “Oh, shit, here comes his mother.”

The woman was carrying what appeared to be a heavy bag of groceries. I jumped out of my chair and tried to help. “Thanks, whoever you are, I got it.” She dropped the bag on the slab and took us in. “Looks like you’re having a party. Where’s Nicky?” She eyed her daughter-in-law suspiciously.

“He went out.”

“I see. Didn’t you tell him I was coming?” The short, stout, woman was short of breath from the exertion. The bag was heavy.

“Yes, Annette, I told him.”

Annette shook her head. “Where’s the kids?”

“I put them to bed.”

“Why so early? So you could entertain all the men in Branch Brook Gardens while your husband is out?”

I could see Theresa was fighting back tears. I spoke up. “I heard her tell Nick you were coming.”

The woman turned to me, but before she could say anything, Oliver spoke up. “Mind your business kid. This don’t concern you.”

We heard a thud then, which was followed by a scream inside Theresa’s apartment. Annette and Theresa ran to the door practically fighting each other to get inside first. Oliver and I followed trying to act casual. Her older boy had fallen out of his bed and hit his head on a metal rod of his air rifle. The blood was flowing from the back of his head. “He needs to go to the emergency room,” I said.

“I don’t have a car,” Theresa said.

“I’ll take him,” I offered. “Annette can watch the other kids.”

The older woman didn’t like it. She’d been carrying on like the kid was shot in the chest, but she knew it was the best option. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Neither of us said much on the way to the hospital. Theresa held her son in her arms holding a blood-stained towel over the wound. The ER wasn’t far from the apartment. Fortunately, they weren’t busy that night. The doctor put two stiches in the boy’s head. It was over quickly. He fell asleep as soon as we got in the car. Theresa said, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think Oliver is right? That I should just let my husband run around on me?”

“I’m not sure that’s what he was really saying,” I said. “I think what he’s saying is you should fight back. He acts like he’s holding all the cards, but he isn’t. Maybe you should fight for him instead of with him.”

“It’s easy for a man to say something like that. I’m a woman, trapped, with no way out. I got married right out of high school, pregnant.”

“So, you and Nick are in the same boat, right?”

“I guess, but why is he having all the fun?”

“Look, I’m no expert, but maybe you could do something that might challenge him. Take an evening class at the community college.”

She laughed. “You going to babysit my kids?”

“You don’t think Nick would watch them?”

“Be serious, Sam. Listen, thanks for doing this, taking us to the hospital and all, but you don’t know a thing about my marriage.”

We pulled into the apartment complex. As we walked toward her apartment, Oliver stepped in front of us. “Your husband’s home. He ain’t too happy. Sammy, you’d better get to your place and stay put.”

Maybe I was tired and maybe it was the wine. “I’ll see Theresa to the door,” I said.  

“Please go home,” Theresa said. “Nick’s mother probably got him riled up. He can be very nasty.”

I kept walking. When I reached her front door, Theresa was a couple of steps behind me. I opened the door for her but never saw her walk in because Nick punched me in the mouth and sent me sprawling. I have a vague recollection that he was cursing at me. The next thing I remember is the ride back to the ER. This time I was in a cop car. My face was swollen, but X-rays showed no fractures. My two front teeth were loose and the doctor decided to keep me overnight for observation. “You may have a slight concussion,” the doctor said. I decided not to call anybody. I was embarrassed.

The next morning though, right after a soft-boiled egg breakfast, I had a visitor. “Hey, man, I’m sorry.”

I looked up and saw Nick standing there. “You sucker punched me,” I said.

“You gonna press charges, man? I might have to do time if you do, and I got a wife and three kids to support.”

I tried to laugh, but it hurt. “Yeah, you do. Tell me, did you hit me so you could convince your wife you care about her?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She thinks you have a girlfriend.”

He put his hands in his pocket. “Okay if I sit down?”

I nodded. My mouth hurt and I still had a headache.

“About them charges. Thing is, I have priors. I could go to prison this time,” Nick said. He pulled out a cigarette but he thought better of it.

“It sounds like you didn’t come here to apologize for hitting me. You just want me to let you off the hook,” I said.

“I have a temper, you know? I guess it gets the better of me sometimes. But I really am sorry about what happened.” He started to cry. He stood and pulled a tissue out of the box on my bedside table. “Oh shit, man. I don’t know. Theresa’s really pissed at me. She says she’s throwing me out of the house.” He blew his nose.

I lay back on my pillow for a moment, wondering how I got involved in something that was way more complicated than anything I could handle. I turned my head toward him. “Promise her you won’t screw around anymore. Maybe take her out once in a while. I don’t know, maybe help her a little bit with your kids.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

I had a feeling I could have told him to go to church every Sunday and join the Knights of Columbus and he would have agreed. “You really want to stay married?” I asked.

He looked at me as if he was really seeing me for the first time. “What choice do I have? I got three kids. Plus, I’m Catholic.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” I said, “you let Theresa take some courses at the junior college and I’ll ask the cops to drop the charges.”

“Theresa in college? You kidding me man? She never said nothing about that.”

I ignored him. “It’s a two-year commitment, but when she’s done, she can get a decent job and you can move out of Branch Brook Gardens.”

“You got me over a barrel here, but I don’t care. If she wants to go to school, I won’t stop her.”

“You’ll take care of your kids at night, too, right?”

“I guess I’ll have to.”

The cops dropped the charges on Nick and he let Theresa enroll. Six months later I got a promotion, making it possible for me to move to a better place. On moving day, I stopped by when Nick was at work to wish her good luck. Other than the occasional neighborly wave, we hadn’t spoken much since the incident. 

She said, “I really appreciate what you did for us. Nick’s calmed down a lot since that night.”

“How’s school going?” I asked.

“I’m ready to quit. I hate it,” she said. “And Nick constantly complains about watching the kids.”

I leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. I was moving up. I wasn’t sure about Theresa.