by Laila Cole
Chapter 5 – Jennifer
After work I headed to my parent’s house, an average contemporary American home with lush green grass, manicured hedges and a white picket fence. It was only a forty-minute drive from my office, and an hour from my home with Steven. It was comforting to know my parents were close by.
I needed my mother’s advice and comfort, but most importantly her sympathy. After all, it wasn’t that many years ago she had hit a rough patch with my Dad, and they made it through, but at the same time, my Dad never hit my Mom like Steven had to me.
The sun had just begun to set as I rolled up to her house. She flicked the porch light on and opened the door. Her eyes immediately darted to my face as I walked toward her. I dropped my luggage and collapsed into her arms where I cried my eyes out like a child. “Mom I need help. I’m so confused.”
She grabbed the back of my head and squeezed me tightly. “It’s ok baby girl, mommas got you now, everything’s going to be ok.” She pulled back a bit to look at my face, trying to be as strong as possible and fight the tears welling up in her own eyes. “I know this sounds hard to stomach but things like this happen, and I’m so sorry it happened to you. You did the right thing by coming here. That man is no good for you.”
My Dad emerged from the living room, quiet and reserved as he usually was. He also inspected my face and shook his head in disgust. “That bastard can go to hell. You deserve better than a man who treats you like that.”
I cried a bit more. “I know Daddy, but he promised me he’d change. Don’t I owe him another chance? Didn’t you always teach me to forgive?”
He shook his head. “You don’t owe him a god damn thing but a divorce. Sure you can forgive him if you want, but you sure as shit ain’t going back to him, and that’s the end of it! I swear,” he said determined, “if I ever see that scumbag piece of shit again I’ll put a bullet between his eyes!”
“James!” my mother said. “That isn’t helping. Please go back to the other room and calm down!”
He sulked into the other room shaking his head and turned on the TV, reclining back in his easy chair.
My phone rang. Excited that it might be Damien I pulled it from my purse. It was Steven and a bolt of panic struck me. I declined his call. He kept calling back, over and over until out of exasperation I answered it. I had no words to say at first, and neither did he. “Jen baby? Are you there?” he said.
I had an attitude a mile thick. “I’m here. What do you want?”
“I know baby. I’m so sorry for what I did. You’ve got to believe me. It will never happen again, I promise. Now come on home and let’s work on things. I haven’t had a single drink and I don’t intend to again.”
I sighed. “I find it hard to believe you can change overnight. Listen. I don’t want to talk. I’m staying with my parents for a couple days to think about things.”
“Wait,” he said. “Please don’t hang up. I just wanted to tell you that I love you. That you’re beautiful and I’m a god damn fool for treating you like I have.”
My eyes filled with tears. I muted my phone so he couldn’t hear my emotions unleash. He must have thought I was stupid. I was wise enough to spot the cycle of abuse, and the honeymoon phase of it ready to spring into full bloom. I didn’t even bother giving him a dash of hope. “Ok,” I said, and hung up the phone.
My mother grabbed my face and looked straight into my eyes. “You’ve got to cut him loose. Like a Band-Aid. Rip it off even if it hurts. We’ve got your back here, love. Money, a place to stay, whatever you need. You know that right?”
I nodded.
“Damn straight!” My father chimed in from his easy chair.
I wiped the last tear from my eye. “I love you both, thank you so much for understanding. I was embarrassed that this happened to me.”
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed, it is Steven that should be embarrassed. Now why don’t you go to your old room and rest? Sure it looks different and we’ve changed things around a bit, but the bed’s still comfortable.”
I never imagined myself back in the home I grew up in, but there I was, confused, in a state of disrepair that I hoped would end soon, but by the encroaching pain in my heart knew it wouldn’t be so easy.
On the flipside was a nervous tension about the possibility of meeting Damien, a tension that I hadn’t felt in years.
