by Ashley Munoz
Immediately, my heart rate lowered and my fists relaxed, as I breathed in and out. Jackson took over the call, so I could focus on breathing.
“Hey sweetheart, sorry to wake you. I was wondering if you help me with something? Could you tell me who your favorite person in the whole world is? Your dad seems to think it’s him, but I am positive that it's me,” Jackson said with a smile, because my kids could make anyone smile.
I was breathing in and out slowly when Jasmine’s sleepy voice, spoke up again, “Well, I do love you so much, Uncle Jax, but Daddy is my favorite.”
I could feel that same old, thud, thud, in my heart that happened when my kids took over and changed my atmosphere, changed my mood, changed my world. Jackson looked over at me and gave me a half-smile. “Oh yeah? Why is he your favorite?”
Jasmine giggled. “Daddy builds stuff for us, he makes us breakfasts and dinners, he goes to work to make money, he builds forts with us, he just loves us. He’s funny and makes us laugh. He’s just Daddy,” she finished with a little laugh. I was thankful for my beautiful little girl, her words like water on the flames that were raging through me. Jackson told her goodnight and ended the call. I looked over at him.
“Thanks man. I’ll keep it together tonight.”
Jackson kept his gaze straight forward, then let out a long breath. “You deserve happiness, Jimmy. Remember that tonight when you see your girl. Remember that when you see the men she’s with, remember that she needs you tonight. Nothing else matters. Okay?”
I nodded, because words wouldn't be sufficient right now. Minutes later, he was pulling into a free spot near some club. We were making our way towards the entrance when I heard raised voices. Near the entrance, Laney was standing with her arms crossed in a way that made her look like a small mountain. She had black streaks running down her face, and it was clear she was upset. Next to her was a bouncer, who also had his arms crossed, and they were facing down two tall men in suits, who each had an arm around Ramsey.
My breath caught when I saw her. Her hair was curly, cascading down her back, and there was a small crown of braided hair on the top of her head, making her look like a princess. She couldn’t hold herself up, her mascara was running, she had her head tilted back, and she was laughing. We got closer, and I could hear her. “Laaaney, …stop being a spuch up bitch…” She laughed again. “I want to lo have some smfun.”
She was trying to stand and slurring her words. I could tell just by looking at her, that she wasn’t just drunk. God, I had never seen her like this, and my heart was shattering at the sight of this woman. This strong, defiant woman, who loved my children like her own, who took care of her dying mother. There was a thick lump in my throat, as tears threatened to fall in front of all these strangers. I stepped forward towards the two men, who were trying to leave with Ramsey, and stared them down.
“First, take your hands off of her and step back,” I snapped, while trying to control the anger that was rolling through me.
They stood there for a second, then the one with dark hair laughed and said, “Fuck off, she's with us.”
Big mistake.
I grabbed his chin, squeezing his cheeks, forcing his lips to pucker out. He only had one hand free to get me off of him, and it wasn't enough.
“Let her, the fuck, go. Now!” I yelled in his face. The bouncer spoke into his walkie and started looking around. I knew he'd probably throw all of us out any second, which was fine, but I needed to get Ramsey away from those assholes first. One of the men watched the bouncer's movement as well.
Finally, they loosened their hold on her, and I stepped in and scooped her into my arms. She immediately snuggled into my chest, putting her head under my chin.
I adjusted her in my arms and eyed the two men again, then quietly asked, “What did she take?”
Both men looked at each other, then me, and the one with short blond hair answered, “Nothing, she's just wasted.”
“Bullshit,” I spat, “now tell me, what the hell is she on?!”
I was yelling now and could feel Jackson stand behind me. The one with darker hair loosened his tie, like he was nervous, but still they didn't answer. I stared them down again, this time, Jackson came to stand right next to me. “Last time. What did she take?”
The blond looked down, then said, “Just a little X, man,” barely loud enough for us to hear him.
My fists itched to hit these fucking idiots, but I had Ramsey in my arms, safe, and that's all that mattered. Besides, now that they confirmed slipping her drugs, the bouncer would report it. I turned around and left the club. Laney followed me out, I walked so her little legs could keep up. Ramsey didn’t even seem to notice what happened, she was still trying to convince Laney to let her go, and then she was laughing. She kept laughing. Each time, it was like a barb in my heart.
I opened the back-passenger door, and gently laid Ramsey inside, while Laney climbed in the other side. I wanted to be next to Ramsey, but I could tell by the look on Laney’s face that she needed it more. Jackson was there a moment later, getting in and starting up the car, and driving off. Laney held onto Ramsey’s hand like she was worried she might lose her. Ramsey was still laughing, strapped into her seatbelt, but leaning forward, fighting the restraint. Then she started to talk, and I wanted to die.
“Didge you know that Jimmy won’t lask me about the chair, Laney-bainy?” she asked softly, still slurring her words a bit. I held my breath; not sure what Ramsey was talking about.
“He won't ask me what the monster didge to me. He doesn’t want to know about the chair, about the hitting or the spitting or the licking.” She was laughing again.
“He won’t ask me, Laney-bainy. I can’t tell anyone how much it hurts. I want him to ask me, to hold me, but he pushed me away.”
She laughed, but this time there wasn't much behind it, like she was losing steam. “He used a baseball bat on my hand, Laney. Did you know that?” Her words were clear and concise this time. I wanted to throw up. Laney held her hand up to her mouth, and a sob escaped from her, as tears streamed down her face. We were all silent.
Another laugh. “He kissed me after that. Then he hit me again. He let the other one lick my face after it was cut open by his fists, then he’d slap it. Then they would do it again,” she said in a sing-song voice, like it was funny. Then there were no more laughs, she was so quiet now. Tears were streaming down my own face, as I fought the bile rising in my throat. I didn’t want to hear anymore.
“They wanted to vrape me, but they thought… they um… they thought that Jimmy and me, that we were… vyou know… together.” Another laugh. “So they said, that I was used trash, that they would never touch someone that had been with Jimmy Fucking Stenson… Small blessings… right?”
She was laughing hard now, but then she hung her head forward, and she was quiet. The silence was thick, and Jackson cleared his throat a few times. I didn't want to look at him; I knew that sound, he made it when Jasmine used to talk about how it was her fault that her mom left. He was fighting tears. I was fighting everything.
I wanted to leave, I wanted to stay, she deserved better than me, but I knew she needed me. I hated myself. Minutes later, we pulled into Jackson’s driveway, and I walked with Ramsey in my arms up the stairs into his three-story townhouse. I carried her into the guest room where I was staying and laid her on the mattress. I pulled an extra shirt and sweats from my duffle bag and laid them on the bed, then looked at Laney who'd gone pale. The lamp next to the bed offered a soft glow to the room.
"Will you need help changing her?" I asked hesitantly. Laney kept her focus on Ramsey's unconscious body and nodded her head. I leaned forward and gently pulled Ramsey into my arms, so Laney could undo the zipper at her back. I had imagined a million different times what it would be like to have this woman in my arms, getting her out of her dress after an evening out. It made this so much worse. I pushed the pain away and laid Ramsey back down. Laney started to remove the dress until Ramsey wa
s in just her bra and underwear. She was so beautiful, but it wasn't lust that I felt at the moment, it was pure agony. How did we get here? I wanted to punch something until this made sense to me. Until the pain of this moment subsided. Seeing her like this wasn't something I wanted to remember and that made this hurt worse. I made quick work of holding Ramsey up, so that Laney could slip the shirt over her head, then I did the same for her with the sweats. I tucked her into the bed and then we waited.
Ramsey slept all day and Laney was a mess. She couldn't stop crying. I shut the door, to keep her brokenness out; there was enough in this room. The words Ramsey said in the car were running on a loop in my head. I threw up after I pictured what Ramsey went through, after the image of Davis hitting her with the bat seared itself into my memory.
Laney came back today with fresh clothes for Ramsey, so she must have gone home at some point. It was night again, and she wanted to stay close in case Ramsey woke up. I told Laney no and to give Ramsey some space, mostly because Laney couldn't stop crying.
I walked out onto Jackson's third story balcony to make the call to Carla, to fill her in. The sun beat down on me but the chill in the air made it feel like it wasn't there. I dialed Carla and waited. A few rings in, she finally picked up with a soft and concerned voice.
"Jimmy?"
I fought the urge to hang up, I didn’t want to tell her this news. "Carla, hi. How are you feeling?"
She let out a sigh. "I'm fine, dear, but I haven't heard from Ramsey since she left last night. Is everything okay?"
It was my turn to let out a sigh. “Not exactly, no.” I took a seat on the patio furniture and Carla waited for me to continue. “We aren't exactly sure what happened, but Ramsey had some kind of breakdown while she was out with Laney. She got a little wasted and tried to go home with two men that she didn't know. Laney was scared, so she called Jackson. I was with him, so we picked her up and she's still sleeping.”
Carla was silent, then she started speaking in a different language. I assumed it was Cambodian. “She has PTSD, Jimmy, and takes medication for it. I'm assuming she had one of her episodes. I'm not sure why she didn't have her meds with her, that seems unlike her."
That added up, according to her behavior, but I also wondered why she'd go into a stressful environment without her meds.
“Her therapist is Glenda Stanza, let me find her number. Maybe she can tell you how to help her. Please have Ramsey call me when she feels up to it,” Carla said, just as someone told her it was time for her rounds in the background.
“Okay, I will.”
She gave me the number and ended the call. I jotted down the number she had rattled off. I called Glenda that afternoon, but she couldn't really talk to me about anything, she just told me to make sure Ramsey called her as soon as she woke up.
I watched the rain as it hit the window. My tears fell again as I thought of Ramsey, waiting for me to talk to her about what she went through. Waiting for me to hold her, to help her, and I never did. I was broken, I was aching, because I knew, deep down, that Ramsey and I wouldn’t recover from this. How could we? I started to wipe at my face, just as I saw movement on the bed. Ramsey was starting to stir.
It was dark, and I was really warm, and comfortable. All good signs. Then I moved my head, and I wanted to die. My stomach was cramping, and my throat was on fire. The material of the blanket that was on me was different than what’s at Laney’s house, and I smelled…I smelled Jimmy. Which meant I was probably dreaming, and I needed to wake up. I tried to sit up, then a large hand landed on my shoulder, and someone was shushing me, telling me to take it easy. Eyes are not open. Dang it.
I opened my eyes, and found it dark, but I could make the shape of a person, and feel a body press down onto the mattress.
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.”
Just me? What was going on? Then, like the time I learned my mother had cancer, a series of images came flooding back, reminding me that, yes, last night did happen. Drinking, dancing, the men… God, the men. I was going to be sick. I tried to get up and throw the covers off, so I could run to the bathroom, but my body wouldn't cooperate. Suddenly there was something round in front of my face, and a warm hand was grabbing my hand and placing it around the object. After a second or two, I make out that it was a garbage can.
“I’m going to turn on the light, is that okay?” Jimmy asked. His voice was gentle and caressed my aching heart.
I nodded, but realized he couldn’t see me, so with a rasp I responded, “Yes, it's okay.”
I could see him move closer to me, then I heard a click and I was assaulted by the blinding glow of the lamp next to me. I slammed my eyes shut, then slowly tried to reopen them a few times, until my eyes were adjusted. Jimmy was sitting on the bed next to me; his face looked tired, he had dark circles under his eyes, and his eyes weren’t that lake green that I loved, they were watery and red. I remembered being angry at him, at Laney, at Jackson, because they'd turned me into the villain. I turned my head away from him and looked out the large window in the room.
After a few seconds of silence, I found my voice, “Where am I? Where’s Laney?”
Jimmy let out a slow breath, then quietly answered, “Jackson’s. Laney is here.”
I was so embarrassed. I didn’t want to know what happened, or why I was in this bed, wearing clothes that weren’t mine, with Jimmy sitting with me. But as much as I didn’t want to know, I knew that I needed to. I needed to face up to whatever it was that I said or did that might have hurt my relationships.
“What happened?” I whispered, hoping Jimmy heard, so I wouldn't have to say it again.
Jimmy stayed where he was, but gently touched my chin to turn my face back to him. He was so handsome, even looking as tired and worn as he did. My heart was beating fast, just at the sight of him, at his mere proximity to me, after all these days and weeks away. The last time we were even this close was in my hospital room, but that doesn't count because he didn't think I knew he was there. He bit his lip, and quietly answered without looking away from me.
“I was here visiting Jackson for the weekend. Laney called him because she was worried about you. You were…”
He looked at me with pain in his eyes. I knew this must be hard because I remembered a few bits and pieces of the night before. I knew what my intentions were when I left that bathroom. To let loose, to forget…
“You had been drinking some and wanted to leave with two guys that Laney didn’t know. She was worried about you, so we came to get you both,” Jimmy said with soft concern in his voice.
God, it was worse than I thought. How stupid could I be? I set the can next to me and pulled my knees up to my chin, resting my face on the tops of my knees and cried.
“How long have I been here? I heard voices, and I heard you say that you were staying with me again,” I asked through the steady stream of tears running down my face. Which only added to my splitting headache.
“It’s Sunday morning, around two a.m.,” he answered.
Panic shot through me; I hadn’t checked with my mom, she was probably worried sick. I sat up and started looking around for my phone. Jimmy’s hands landed back on my knees to calm me. “We called your mom, she knows that you're safe, and she told us to call Glenda. She would like you to call her later this morning,” he said with that gentle tone again, like he was talking me down from the ledge. Maybe he was.
Shame and embarrassment flushed through my body at the sound of my therapist's name. How much did my mom reveal? Jimmy must have noticed, because he spoke up, “Your mom didn’t tell us anything, neither did Glenda… but…” He trailed off, then ran his fingers through his messy hair. I missed his hair, I missed him. My body ached, and my heart hurt, and regardless of what was going on between us, I just wanted his arms around me. I was crying again, but I was also leaning forward, until I was close enough for Jimmy to catch the hint.
He looked surprised as I scooted closer to him, but he caught on, and w
rapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. He rocked me and kissed the top of my head as I cried into his chest. I realized he had said the word ‘but’ at the end of his last sentence, like he was going to say more.
With my raspy, phlegm-filled voice, I asked him about it. “What were you going to say, Jimmy? After you said Glenda didn’t say anything, you said, ‘but’…”
He stopped rocking. I leaned back and looked at Jimmy, he was crying and not just little tears, but big ones.
He choked on his words as he answered my question. “God, Ramsey, I’m so sorry I didn’t ask you. I didn’t think…” He was almost sobbing now. I had never seen this side of him, it was wreaking havoc on my heart. He wiped at his face. “I didn’t think you would want to talk about it, or for me to… I stayed away because I thought if you saw me, it would remind you of what happened. I pushed you away. I hated that because of me, you got hurt. I’m so, so sorry,” he said again, while crushing me to his chest, harder than before, like he didn’t want there to be any chance of losing me.
I didn’t know what to say, I didn’t know how much he knew…maybe I should start there.
“How much do you know… I mean… did I…”
I couldn’t even say it, because it was literally one of my worst fears, that I would accidentally tell someone every evil thing that happened to me in that room. Jimmy knew, he must've, because he didn't make me finish,
“You said a few things in the car, things that happened to you… how you wanted me to talk to you about it, how much I failed you… Ramsey, you deserve so much better than me, I’m so sorry. This is why I tried to push you away, because what kind of person doesn't ask about this stuff?” He was crying into my hair, crushing me tighter and tighter into him. I leaned back to look at him.
“Jimmy, yes it hurt, that’s why I haven’t talked to you in so long. You pushed me away and I can see why, but you didn’t give me a choice in the matter, and all I wanted was you. All I still want is you… to help… get through it.” I felt like I was choking on my own sobs. “Just, please don’t leave me again, Jimmy. We have things to work on, but don’t leave me. Promise me, please.”
