by Daleen Berry
Maybe that’s why I suddenly remembered Eddie’s furious rages before our marriage, and all the times he would jump in his truck and squeal the tires, speeding away from whatever had angered him. After only eight weeks of marriage, the full impact of that behavior struck me literally and figuratively.
Eddie often worked day and night. If I said anything about his penchant for spending more time in the coal mines than at home, he exploded, calling me a nag. The first huge argument came one balmy summer evening as we were on our way to see a movie, as he tailgated another car crawling along at a snail’s pace. Eddie grew angrier and edged closer. Nervous and frightened, I finally asked him to slow down. When he ignored me, I repeated my request. Suddenly he jerked the steering wheel and the car veered sharply. I could smell hot rubber as the tires squealed to a stop and only my seatbelt kept me from hitting the windshield.
Nausea gnawed at my stomach and my fingers clenched and unclenched nervously as he hurtled a string of obscenities at me. Eddie jumped out and slammed the door so hard my ears hurt.
“Since you’re such an expert you can just drive the damned thing yourself!” He kept screaming obscenities as he walked away.
“Where are you going?” I yelled frantically, climbing halfway across his seat. But the desire to go after him died with his next words.
“I don’t know. But I’m sure as hell not going with you! Get out of here and enjoy your movie!”
“Come back. Please don’t leave!” I yelled again. But he didn’t turn around.
I sat there for a few seconds, trying to decide what to do. I knew I could just leave and go to the movie, but I no longer wanted to. It felt like I sat there forever, wondering what I had done wrong.
Obviously, it must be my fault, since he’s furious with me.
But he was doing the tailgating—not me, another voice in my mind cried out.
That doesn’t matter, though. I never should have criticized his driving habits. I know he’s sensitive, but I didn’t pay any attention to that. I was just concerned about myself. The ping-pong ball bounced back and forth inside my head: I was in the wrong. No, he was. No, I was.
I heard vague sounds of music coming from the console and suddenly realized I was sitting inside a running car that was parked in the middle of a dangerous curve.
I could be killed!
I finished crawling into the driver’s seat and turned the car around, hoping to reason with him. When I saw him walking along the road I slowed down, begging him to come with me.
“I’m not going to, so forget it. Just get out of here and leave me alone!” he shouted.
“Eddie, come on. You can’t walk home,” I pleaded with him, inching the car alongside him.
“Why not?” he demanded, looking like a pouting schoolboy.
“Because it’s too far. Come on, get in and we’ll go home.”
He said nothing and kept walking, giving me no choice but to drive home without him. Back at our trailer, I went inside, knowing it would be hours before he got home. I tried to sit down and read, but the words on the page kept blurring and my eyes burned with unshed tears. I couldn’t concentrate. I looked outside at the darkening sky, and felt a return of the familiar fear I felt whenever I was alone at night. I felt like such a failure.
My husband had run away from home, and it was my fault.
After hours, I finally picked up the telephone and began dialing. But when Mrs. Leigh answered the phone, I wasn’t sure what to say.
“Mrs. Leigh, is Eddie down there?”
“No, should he be?” she asked.
“Well, I thought he might be…” I stopped, unsure of what else to say. It was hard enough just to tell her that much. “We had a fight, and I just thought maybe he had come down there,” I heard a stranger’s voice say.
“Well, he’ll be back when he’s not mad.” She laughed. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to laugh. But you know what a hothead he is.”
That much I did know. After all, she had warned me about his temper enough times, hadn’t she?
July arrived before we knew it and we began preparing for our belated honeymoon, that night at the hotel merely being our “wedding night” and not our real honeymoon. I longed for the beach and an entire week together. Our trip coincided with Mom’s visit to Gaithersburg, Maryland, to see Bruce, so Eddie and I planned to stop there on our way to Virginia Beach. We pulled in late at night and went right to bed, knowing the next day was going to be full of activities Uncle Bruce had planned for us.
After a full day of sightseeing, we went out for pizza and then returned to Bruce’s apartment. I told Eddie I was really exhausted, and after telling everyone goodnight, I went to bed. But it was too warm and I kicked the covers off, trying to sleep. I could hear laughter and talking from the living room, and I knew everyone was busy playing Gin Rummy. I had almost dozed off when I heard someone yell. I realized it was Carla. She was screaming, and I heard her voice through my closed bedroom door.
“Stop it, you pain in the butt! Don’t ever touch me again or I’ll have my boyfriend take care of you. He knows what you’ve been doing and he’s just waiting for a chance to beat you up!” Then I heard her crying, and other voices joined in.
I quickly threw my robe on and when I opened the bedroom door, I could see Eddie, looking surprised from where he sat on the couch. Seeing me, Carla began yelling again, “I mean it, Daleen! So help me God, if he ever lays a hand on me again, I’ll kill him!”
“What’s going on?” I was dumbfounded.
I looked back and forth between the adults. I felt a sick feeling begin in the bottom of my stomach because I already guessed what had caused Carla’s outburst. Eddie just sat there, not saying a word. Mom was trying to calm Carla down, and Bruce was at the table, his cards still in his hands, his face a mask of something similar to shock. The two little kids had stopped playing on the floor, and looked confused and frightened.
“He’s had his hands all over me for months and he won’t stop it. I wasn’t going to tell you, Daleen, but he won’t stop. I just can’t take it anymore!”
I turned to Eddie, the anxious feeling growing stronger. “Eddie, what did you do?” My quietly spoken words hid the anger and fear I felt. He shrugged, and seemed to be trying to figure out what to say, when Carla spoke up.
“He kept rubbing his foot against my bottom, that’s what he did! I was sitting on the floor watching television, and I told him to stop, but he just kept right on doing it!” She looked daggers at him, and I knew she was telling the truth.
“I was just trying to play, that’s all. I didn’t mean to upset you, Carla.” Eddie finally found his voice.
“I don’t think that’s how you play with a thirteen-year-old, Eddie,” my mother said quietly.
He said he was sorry, and everyone tried to push the incident aside. I told Eddie I wanted to see him in the bedroom and turned away, hating that my family had witnessed it, knowing they would surely feel sorry for me, his new bride.
I don’t need their pity!
I was silent as he followed me, but once the door was shut I confronted him. I unleashed the anger on him in full force. “How dare you touch her like that? Why did you do it Eddie? Why?” I demanded.
He wouldn’t look at me, though, instead running his fingers through his hair, as if he was as distressed as I was. “I don’t know, Daleen. I told you, I was just trying to have fun with her. I didn’t mean anything by it. Besides, she’s always going around teasing me. You didn’t know that, did you?”
That silenced me for a moment, but then I decided it didn’t matter, even if there was any truth in it, because he was twenty-two and she was only thirteen.
Just like me. Just like me.
Somehow I forced the thought from my mind.
Besides, he was married and had no right to touch another woman like that, especially one who was underage. All of a sudden, all the energy ebbed away. I was exhausted and when I spoke my voice was strangely flat. “I do
n’t believe you Eddie. From what Carla says, this isn’t the first time. Is that right?”
I waited for his answer, but he tried to skirt the issue, saying she must not have minded it. I realized he wanted to convince me it was Carla’s fault for flirting with him. “She just has to run around wearing those skin-tight blue jeans,” Eddie continued, trying to pin the blame on her.
Too tired to argue, I lay down on the bed. Eddie curled up beside me and tried to comfort me, but I ignored him, refusing to listen. I was deaf to his words, and kept reliving the entire scene, over and over, in my head. In my mind I could see him touching her, see her try to tell him to stop in a way that no one would notice, and then, when he didn’t stop, see her turn on him, screaming and swearing. It hurt terribly, to think my husband of only one month would do that to my little sister—and to me.
It also hurt because I suspected it was all true, because that’s exactly what he had done to me. And that’s exactly what I had tried to do—keep the secret, keep silent, be the good little girl and not get him into trouble.
Thank God Carla had the sense to speak up, to break the silence.
Eddie kept pleading with me to listen. “I’m sorry Daleen. I really am. I didn’t mean to hurt you, really. I thought—I don’t know what I thought. Please forgive me. I love you so much!” He whispered against my ear, stroking my hair back from my face. I kept my back to him and when he began to run his hand over my stomach, I smacked it away.
“Don’t dare touch me! I don’t want you to touch me, do you understand?” I was still furious, but at the same time, I could feel his body against mine, and smell the clean scent of him. I desperately wanted to believe him. But I couldn’t. It just wasn’t possible.
Not now. Maybe not ever again.
“Daleen I won’t let you go. I won’t. I don’t care if you won’t make love to me, I’ll just lie right here beside you, all night, and hold you.” His voice was that of a little child whining in anguish, trying to get what he wanted. But I was beyond caring, and buried my face in the pillow, trying to forget everything I had just seen and heard.
The next morning, it was like the night before hadn’t even happened. Everyone except Carla smiled and laughed when we parted company—she was nowhere to be seen. I knew Mom and the kids would spend the rest of the weekend there, while Eddie and I headed to our honeymoon.
They all wore masks. I saw their blank faces, devoid of any leftover emotion from the previous night, and I wanted to shake them and scream, “This isn’t normal. You know it’s not normal. Why are you ignoring it like it’s nothing?”
But I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. That would be unacceptable, and it would mortify both my mother and my uncle.
A polite young lady doesn’t do things like that. In my head I could clearly hear my mom’s response.
So instead, I waved goodbye as we pulled away and began the four-hour drive. I don’t know how I managed to keep up a conversation, since I was still in shock over Carla’s outburst.
In the end, I think I just filed it away with all the other things that had happened which I couldn’t or wouldn’t face—questions for which I had no answers—afraid of what they would really mean, should I peer too close. Instead, I was subdued. Eddie tried to make me laugh, putting his arm around me, and by the time we arrived at Virginia Beach, I had mellowed a little. I was still uncertain of him—and myself—since I didn’t know how I really felt. I wanted to believe if I loved him more, he would quit acting like that with my sister.
And Vonna, the voice inside my head reminded me.
The tiny cottage had a kitchenette barely big enough for two people. We went to buy groceries and when we returned, I put everything away while Eddie made the bed. After dinner, we climbed into it. As we made love, Eddie told me how much he loved me. I told myself I would make him so happy he would never want anyone else again. I knew I could do it and as I clung to him tightly, I was determined to make my marriage work, and to never let him go.
The next morning we went sightseeing, before returning to the cottage for lunch. “We’ll have to try both beds out before we go home.” Eddie was grinning, but I caught the hidden meaning behind his words as he slipped his arms around me. “What do you think?”
I just smiled. But I was really wondering how long his unquenchable desire for sex could last.
Surely after a few months, sex will grow old.
We walked down to the beach, and I felt self-conscious in my swimsuit. It was a one-piece, and hid the pregnancy well, but I still knew I wasn’t as slender as usual. My swollen belly had left me with misgivings about my body. It served to accentuate my crime, and was something I was starting to struggle with.
As we spread out our blanket on the sand, I wondered if I would ever look as good as the other women who were stretched out sunbathing all around us. I hoped so, because I couldn’t stand being fat. More important, I knew Eddie wouldn’t like it.
Holding hands, we entered the water and began romping around in the waves. We played for hours, splashing each other and swimming and collecting shells, before returning to the blanket. The sun was directly overhead, burning into our skin, but the ocean breeze kept us from noticing. Eddie just sat there, so I tugged on his arm, asking him to lie down beside me. He said he wanted to watch the water, so I closed my eyes and felt the delicious warmth of the sun melt into me.
I don’t know what it was that finally caused me to glance up, but that’s when I saw him staring at some girl in a tiny bikini. She walked in front of our blanket, as I watched his eyes follow her hungrily.
I was afraid he would catch me, and quickly closed my eyes. I felt weird, like I was looking into someone else’s window while they undressed. Now and again Eddie would rub lotion on my back, making polite conversation, but I sensed his mind was elsewhere. So every so often, I peeked up at him. He was either gawking at a girl whose figure looked like an hourglass, or practically leering at another whose bathing suit resembled strings of spaghetti.
“What’re you doing?” My calmness belied the seething feeling beneath my skin.
“Oh, just watching some kids play, that’s all.” He quickly turned his gaze from a woman who was lying with her bikini top unfastened, to some children who were busy building a sand castle.
You’re lying. I wanted to say it, but couldn’t. So I began to sulk, refusing to talk except for one-word answers, when no answer would have been rude. I couldn’t do that.
Eddie quickly realized I was upset. He turned to me, asking what was wrong.
“I just don’t understand why you have to look at every woman on the beach and then deny doing it,” I said angrily.
He looked at me like I was crazy. “I wasn’t! I was just watching those kids over there.” He pointed in their direction. “What makes you think I was watching the women? You know, I have my own woman to watch.” His voice was silky smooth.
I was fed up. It was bad enough to do it, but to do it and then lie about it? “Look Eddie, I’ve been watching you. Every time you get quiet, I look up and see you staring at some gorgeous blond with a big bust.”
For an instant, he looked guilty. Then he smiled. “All right, so I like women with big chests. I admit it. But I have not been staring at every woman here. Why should I, when I can stare at you?” His dark brown eyes bored into my own, and he sounded sincere. I stared at him.
Maybe I was mistaken.
Deep inside though, I knew I hadn’t imagined it. At the same time, I wanted to believe him. I thought he loved me, so why would he need to look at other women? I finally convinced myself I had been mistaken, that Eddie hadn’t really been staring like I thought. But by then the day was spoiled.
“If you can’t trust me, let’s just go.” I knew Eddie was cross with me, and it made me feel guilty for not trusting him—for spoiling our day together at the beach.
We spent the rest of our honeymoon lounging around, seeing the sights and relaxing on the seashore. Our nights were filled with passio
nate sex and once, Eddie even asked me if I would go skinny dipping in the ocean.
“No, I don’t think so.” I was busy cooking at the stove.
“But it’ll be fun. Wouldn’t you like to swim naked in the ocean?” he pleaded.
I shook my head. “I don’t want to go skinny dipping. That’s just not me. You know that.” But I was terrified someone would find us—see us—and know what we were doing. Just the thought of anyone seeing me naked made me feel guilty, like I was doing something bad. I couldn’t do it.
Two days later, we made the long drive home. It was dark when we pulled into the driveway many hours later and Eddie began packing his lunch for work the next day. I went to bed, utterly exhausted, full of questions and doubts.
CHAPTER EIGHT
But my doubts never lasted long because at other times Eddie was the perfect husband. He worked at a coal mine where they had rotating shifts, so one week he would be on days, the next he would be on afternoons. During day shift, I got up early to fix him breakfast. But if I was too ill, he would kiss me tenderly as he got up.
“You stay in bed. I’ll fix it,” he said.
“Remember to kiss me goodbye before you leave.” I was already falling back to sleep.
Whenever I did get up to cook his breakfast, I was usually half asleep and Eddie would kiss me as he went out the door, gently pushing me back toward the bedroom. “Go back to bed.”
This was the Eddie I knew and loved, the man who took such good care of me.
But then the long hours at work took their toll. I tried waiting for Eddie so I could see him, but after realizing he was pulling yet another overtime shift, I went to bed. I was sound asleep, until a loud commotion outside woke me. It took me a few minutes to realize the noise was men’s voices. I lay there quietly for a few more minutes. I thought Eddie’s truck must have broken down, since he had been having some problems with the carburetor.
