by R. Rodriguez
What I hadn’t been ready for, however, was the catastrophic manner in which Dario would crumble under all the pressure. I was in my last month of pregnancy when he suddenly decided that he didn’t love me anymore. He didn’t love me, he said. He didn’t love me, he repeated. This wasn’t any life that he wanted to live and he was leaving for Argentina as soon as his parents sent him a plane ticket.
I couldn’t understand for the life of me what he was talking about because I just saw us, persevering through the hardship. A normal young married couple with a future family that had to make it. No question about it. We just had to make it. We had to move forward. Sacrifice. Endure hardship. Work until we made it. Dario just wanted out.
I cried and pleaded, but in the end his parents sent him the plane ticket and he left. No amount of pleading worked on him. He turned ice cold and unreceptive, treating me like I was a stranger he could dispose of in a second. There was no tenderness or regret of his wishes because of our babies. Nothing. He just left.
I had to come to terms with this because I knew that my babies heard my distraught voice and my crying. I knew that they felt what I felt and could be affected by it, so I decided to silence my sorrow and continue on as if nothing had happened. I also needed to keep a sane head to endure the difficulties of my new position at the orchestra. In truth, it was music that saved me during this time. I didn’t have my family close by so, I kept contact with the Granadases. They were the closest thing I had to family.
And Lucian. Once again Lucian stepped up to the plate in my defense and rescue. Not called by me by any means. I respected his time to heal. I knew I didn’t deserve such a man. I had kept sporadic contact with him in the months following my marriage to Dario, but we mostly talked about trivial things. Something had been broken between us. The trust was gone. I knew he cared that I was all right; he was just caring from the outposts this time.
He assured me that he had gotten help at the hands of a very crafty doctor and that it was best if he stayed at a distance for now. I was thankful that he had been able to find help for the effects of my debauchery on his heart. But I missed him dearly.
Laura was the one to call him. She became infuriated when she found out how Dario had skipped town on me once again. Lucian came to my aid without any questions or recriminations. It was Lucian that helped me buy all the necessary things for my children. It was he who was with me when the time came to bring my son Cody and my daughter Sarah into the world.
It was a miracle that I almost didn’t get to witness. While in labor, my heart started harboring an impending feeling of dread. It was a certainty that things wouldn’t go well. I wasn’t wrong. The labor and birth went on normal enough, but as soon as Sarah opened her eyes to the world, my blood pressure started to rise abnormally. I was rushed to the ICU. I didn’t get to nurse my babies immediately like I’d planned on doing. The last face I remembered was Lucian’s. He stayed by my side at all times. He arranged for a specialist to fly up to Chicago to treat me for preeclampsia.
When I came to, his was the first face I saw, as well. My mother wasn’t ready to forgive me for having abandoned her great wedding plans. She didn’t come see me even though Laura informed her of my delicate state. I did receive flowers from my dad at the hospital, though. He promised to visit to meet the babies soon.
A couple of weeks after giving birth, I was finally able to go home with my babies. I stared at the two unworldly bodies that lay side by side in the middle of my small bed and I couldn’t believe they were mine. I was grateful to have made it ‘til this moment. I was too young, but I knew I had to make it. For them.
“Can you believe how beautiful they are, Lucian?” I exhaled.
Lucian stood over me, peeking at Cody and Sarah curiously over my head.
“Of course I can believe it, Grace. They have every beautiful quality to inherit from their mother,” he said seriously. He kissed the top of my head and dug into the hard task of juggling two very demanding newborn twins by my side.
I was glad to have my Lucian by my side. Not in any romantic kind of sense. He seemed to be over that. In fact he never even mentioned it which felt odd, but I still had him back. The Lucian who stood by me no matter what. Besides, I needed the help. It took me a while to recuperate from my most recent brush with death.
After a while, my life settled into a pleasant routine. I was finally okay enough to go back to work and to begin enjoying getting to know my babies with the very eager help of Lucian. As I stared at Cody resting on Lucian’s shoulder, I found myself wishing in my heart that he was his child as he would’ve been if I had stayed with Lucian.
Lucian seemed just as fascinated by me whenever I took care of either one, but he never voiced his sentiment. He did anything for my kids, but he kept a respectable distance from their momma that I secretly hoped he would breach sometime. The obstacle of Dario was gone and I was freeing the special place in my heart that I had kept constricted under Dario’s spell.
After I returned to work, Laura pitched in to help with the babies. The concerts were usually at night, which allowed her to help. My kids were so much more aware of life, now. They recognized people. Definitely my voice. They knew I was their mommy, but they also cooed for Laura and for Lucian… For Lucian… they had a marked preference. They liked him over any other person. My poor kids probably thought he was their father.
I was used to the happy chortles that filled my apartment and the action being centered on my chubby babies.
The serenity of my life was usurped by the sudden thief that was Dario. Again. I was mortified when I received an alarming call from Laura one night, cutting my rehearsal short.
“Grace. Thank God, you picked up. Dario’s here. He won’t leave. Please come home.” She said it so fast it seemed like a word instead of a whole sentence.
I dropped my cello brusquely in its case and sped home. I called Lucian on the way. I needed his support. I needed his presence. I didn’t know on what terms Dario was showing up again. He had been gone for some months.
Lucian was already at my apartment when I got there.
“The best thing you can do right now, man, is do what you’re used to doing, leave,” Lucian said.
“This is my house. Those are my kids. Grace is my woman. When are you gonna get that through your thick engineer skull?!” Dario spat dangerously close to Lucian.
“Dario, stop it. Lucian has every right to be here. I called him. He’s been more of a father to them than you,” I declared furiously, gathering all of my courage to handle the matter correctly.
“I’m their father, Grace. Don’t even start… You know they need me.” Dario tried to get me to focus on his earnest face by standing closer to me.
I finally glanced at Dario—albeit, it was for less than two seconds, but I was already taken in by his stunning energy. A blinding force that made me reconsider and read needlessly into the passionate manner in which he was willing to fight for us.
I was scared that Cody and Sarah would be awake to listen to the whole exchange. But, Laura had them snuggly asleep in their room.
Lucian took advantage of the fact that I moved to the other room to check on the babies, to silence Dario before his charm continued to ooze my way. He didn’t let him get so much as another word in, in fact.
Lucian beat the crap out of Dario at Dario’s next claims over me, right there in my living room. The fight extended to the stairway, causing a neighbor to alert the police. I was ashamed at how I had managed to achieve that an elegant, chivalrous man as Lucian stoop as low as involving himself in a street brawl for my honor.
I explained the situation with Laura’s collaboration as well as I could to the cop that showed up and at least got one more good night’s rest. Lucian convinced me to pack the babies up and stay with him the next couple of days. The police advised that I should get a restraining order against Dario, but I couldn’t find the courage to go through the legal proceedings. I was sure Dario would just give
up. I was wrong.
Chapter 15: Weeds Never Die
Dario was relentless. Once I came back home, he kept showing up attempting to convince me why we should give it one more try. It was easy to let Dario go when he was millions of miles away, but once he was in my side of the world, and so eagerly wanting to be in my presence, he overwhelmed my reason. It took over my good sense and made me think that there really could be a chance that he’d change.
Lucian stepped back once again from my life when I took Dario back in, and remained in the outer corners, ready to take center stage when I needed him. I hated that it had to be this way. Lucian was as essential to me as Dario’s storm was. He was my one true friend when trouble wreaked havoc on my life. The rest of my acquaintances started dropping me out of their life like a bad seed.
Two years after that cursed wedding to Dario, I found a large three bedroom house to rent for the four of us in a not so nice part of the city. The size of my old apartment was ridiculous for a family of four and my kids were demanding space. They were strong and healthy. And very, very playful.
I could tell that it wasn’t to Dario’s liking, but it was essentially all I could afford that was appropriate enough for the size of our family.
Cody and Sarah could each have their own room which I decorated with fervor taking into consideration Lucian’s advice on home art work projects and a few gifts that he swore were cast offs he found in a thrift store. We had a foyer, a living room, a dining room, a full kitchen and two bathrooms. One of which was in our bedroom. What more could Dario ask for?
Besides, he wasn’t contributing a single penny to the household expenses, so why should he complain? He did have a source of income. He got a job as assistant coach at a local community college, but he claimed to have credit card and student loan debts, that left no money to help at home.
I wondered where his wealthy diplomat parents were, but I decided not to focus on that. I felt it was only normal to provide for my family whatever was needed in the manner that I could and since he spent his days at home, we saved on daycare. The kids weren’t much trouble. They had a firmly established day routine complete with two naps, so I trusted Dario to handle them while I was at work which consisted mostly of rehearsals and concerts. Whenever I had night concerts, they either accompanied me, or Laura gave me a hand.
Cleaning and laundry were left to me when I had free time, because due to his extensive coaching duties, he claimed to need humongous amounts of time for sleep.
I don’t recall doing anything more with Dario as a couple. Our social life was limited to attending my concerts and his games. At least, we did keep a physical relationship. That didn’t seem to falter. I remember intimate times with a lot of role playing and carrying out of fantasies. Granted, they were mostly his fantasies. He never seemed to get around to making mine come true.
I would soon find out that the reason for such an active sex life stemmed from his addictions and extracurricular activities. His eagerness wasn’t really directed at pleasing me.
My first indication of this was the satellite dish bill which he insisted on taking care of each month. Not that he’d pay for it from his pocket, but that he would take care of paying it by phone so I would have one less bill to worry about.
It fell into my hands one day while I cleaned a high shelf on the book case I kept in the living room.
Nude Awakening $8.99
Friends and Lovers $10.99
Amateur Legal Teens $16.99
And on and on went the list. The total of his very private viewing events amounted to $150.00 and this was just in one month’s bill. The story was the same for different months when I called the satellite dish company. Now, I could have just stayed quiet about it, but this was my money that was paying for his entertainment.
So I confronted him, which he dismissed. Dario didn’t punish me directly. He started creeping. His cell phone became the absent electronic gadget of the house, whereas before it had been at my disposal at any time. It was in fact the only phone we had access to.
I immediately became suspicious and decided to keep my cool and observe. On Dario’s occasional distractions, I was able to view his calls. None stood out, except for one unknown number that kept showing up late at night when he was supposed to be on his way home from coaching.
On one particular Saturday, when he was fixing himself a late breakfast and got distracted enough to place his cell phone on top of the T.V. I got my chance to find out the exact extent of his punishment. The phone, which was on vibrating mode, was vibrating against the top of the television. The microwave’s ding coincided with its reverberation which caused it to almost fall off. I snagged it inconspicuously and snuck off to the bathroom with it.
Sure enough, it wasn’t a phone call. It was a text message that I couldn’t get into immediately because his message box had a password. I concentrated on deciphering the password.
I knew Dario usually chose passwords that were truly moronic for lack of a better word. 1234. Nope. 1478. Nope. His birth date? 10-3-. Nope. 6969. Bingo! Figured it had to be something related to his present porn-infested mind set. And up popped the hidden message.
Where is your game today and at what time?
There was no signature. Just that. I checked the text detail and there it was. The same unknown late night number I had seen before.
I really couldn’t contain myself and I marched right up to where he was enjoying his newly cooked breakfast.
“Who the heck is this that’s been calling you so late at night and who needs to know so badly where your game is tonight?” I demanded.
Dario didn’t even budge. He chewed his pancake slowly and answered calmly,
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Grace.”
“This. This.” I shoved the phone in his face so he could read the message.
“I don’t know, Grace. I don’t know that number. It’s probably a wrong number.” He took another spoonful of scrambled eggs and kept chewing.
“Well, that someone with that number sure knows you because they’ve been calling you late at night and you’ve spoken for as long as thirty minutes on occasion.” I had done my private eye work well, but not well enough to retain evidence.
“What phone calls? What are you talking about, Grace?” Dario pretended to fidget with the phone. “There are no phone calls on here.”
I grabbed the phone from his hand and sure enough, he had erased the late night calls, so I had no choice but to shut my mouth and go through the motions. Not surprisingly, he didn’t think it would be a good idea for us to accompany him to his game that night.
Dario got home at two in the morning, as usual and he crashed as soon as he hit the bed, but I couldn’t shut an eye all night. I waited for a few minutes and snuck into our bathroom to pick up his discarded pants from the hamper.
I dug deep into the right pocket and felt the small rectangular shape of what I was looking for at once. It was on. I hit the Menu Option and clicked on his recent calls. There it was, without fail, the unknown number. This time there were phone calls received and made. I hit the redial and waited for a response on the other end.
“You have reached Deborah’s phone. Please leave a message and I’ll get back to you, as soon as possible.”
I hung up quickly, having lost my nerve to confront the unknown caller. What I couldn’t shake was an incontrollable anger that took over my senses. Here I was busting my chops working, denying myself all the things any woman held in value, like clothes, make-up and shoes to help my family along and here Dario was living the life as if nothing else mattered.
The rest of the night rolled in like I was watching a play from the outside.
Act I- I turned off Dario’s most precious belonging and hid it behind the farthest trinket I owned under the laundry closet. Act II- I yanked the covers off Dario with a swift angry pull.
“Dario!” I yelled.
“What the…?!” He sat up in bed, groggy-eyed.<
br />
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Who’s Deborah?”
The mention of her name woke him in a start. An angry start. He didn’t even address my question.
“Give me my phone,” He barked dangerously close to my face.
“No. Who’s Deborah?” I persisted.
“Give me my phone, Grace! Where is it?” He stood up from the bed and towered over me dangerously.
“I don’t have it. It’s gone. I threw it away!” I yelled at him.
I backed up against the wall, wishing that I had let sleeping dogs lie. I didn’t like the look in Dario’s eye.
“What do you mean it’s gone?!” He began to search all over the house like a mad man and when he came up empty, he came back to the origin of its disappearance, me.
“Where’s my phone, Grace?!” he shouted louder, pushing me hard against the wall. My back slammed into the wall and the pain reverberated through my chest.
“What do you need it for? Why are you so desperate to find it? To call her? You didn’t memorize her phone number?!” I taunted. I was beside myself and aiming for low points to hurt Dario. He had a memory problem which impeded him from remembering phone numbers, passwords, and lock combinations. That’s why he always chose really simplistic, easy to remember, number combinations.
That’s when Dario hit me for the first time. He grabbed my head and slammed it on the bed. The rest of my body bounced awkwardly off the bed. I heard myself yowl in anguish as he pulled my hair from the roots. He smashed his face onto mine and transferred his hands to my neck to choke me. I guess he realized what he was doing when my eyes started rolling back because he let me go abruptly.
“You have no business, getting into my shit. Don’t do it again.” He left me laying there in utter dejection. I hated Dario at that moment for taking my dignity.
