Striving for Acceptance

by B. L. Mooney

“When did it turn into something more?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not sure it ever turned into anything.”

  “There had to be a turning point to take it from friendship to lovers.”

  “I don’t remember the name of it, but we went to a movie with a lot of sex. It was supposed to be a thriller and I suppose it was, but it had a lot of sex. It was borderline porn, to be honest. It got both of us hot and we went to his apartment afterward.” I sat there for a moment and thought about that night. “I don’t even think we talked about it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I noticed he had an erection he kept trying to adjust. I whispered we could leave, but only because I thought it was making him uncomfortable. I didn’t mean it as an invitation to take me to his bed, but that’s what he did.”

  “Did you want to go?”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply it wasn’t mutual. That movie had me going, as well. I just didn’t expect it. I don’t think we were on each other’s radar like that.”

  “When did you decide to get married?”

  “We saw each other more after that night, but I think we grew comfortable with it. I don’t think either one of us wanted to be alone. The sex wasn’t that great, but he treated me well enough.”

  “So, you just decided to get married?”

  “No, we were talking over a problem he had with one of his accounts. He couldn’t figure it out.” I sat and thought about that for a minute.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing is wrong. I just don’t remember much about my time with my ex-husband. I mean, I remember how things happened and what went on, but I don’t remember what the account was or what the problem was he needed to solve. You’d think someone would remember these things. The movie that started our relationship, the account issue we solved right before he asked me to marry him.” I shook my head again. “I don’t remember any of it.”

  “What was his home life like?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I met his parents and they seemed nice enough, but I don’t know how he grew up, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “It never came up? How about how you grew up?”

  “You mean the babysitting? Yes, I did talk to him about that. He was an only child and thought it would’ve been great to have siblings. He didn’t understand what my issues were.”

  “Did you talk about having children?”

  “We didn’t want them.”

  “Why not?”

  “I was sick of babysitting. I never really thought of motherhood as anything more than that. As for him, he was never around kids and it made him nervous. He liked to live a tidy life.” I shrugged. “Kids would mess that up.”

  “Have you spoken to him since the divorce?”

  “Not much. I don’t hate him, and I’m not avoiding him. We just weren’t in love with each other.”

  Joseph wrote a few things down but didn’t say anything. I hated it when he did that. I waited for him to finish with whatever it was he was writing, but when he looked up, he smiled. It drove me crazy.

  “What’s the point of all this? Tom isn’t someone I need to talk about.”

  “Who do you need to talk about?”

  “No, you need to answer my question first. What’s the point of going over all this?”

  He put the notepad and pencil down. “When you first started to go through the divorce, you were very much against Tom. You didn’t like him and couldn’t really talk about him.”

  “Well, going through a divorce isn’t fun.”

  “No, it isn’t. Feelings are very strong when you first have that sense of abandonment.”

  “But I left him.”

  “You may have left him in the end, but he was cheating on you. You’ve told me you hadn’t had sex in the last five years of your marriage. That was over half the time you were married, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “No matter who asked for the divorce or started the proceedings, he left you long before that.”

  “Are you saying I should be mad at him?”

  Joseph shook his head. “Not at all. I’m saying you’re improving because you aren’t mad at him. It’s really a great thing, and I think it means you’re ready to talk about the one person you need to talk about.”

  “Craig.”

  “Does that frighten you?”

  “Yes. I don’t want to feel that. I don’t want to remember those times. I don’t want to see what I should’ve seen all along.”

  “Do you also not want to get better?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then we start with Craig the next time you come in.”

  I walked into the shop and narrowed my eyes at Rachael and Drew. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m getting married in a month!” Drew put her head on the counter.

  I raised my eyebrows and looked at Rachael. “That’s good, right?”

  “That isn’t enough time.” It was muffled by her arm, but I could hear Drew’s distress.

  “It’s going to be fine. You’ve hired everyone, right?” Rachael looked at me. “You’ve been married. Tell her it’s going to be okay.”

  “Yes, but when I was getting married, I didn’t really give a shit.” I sighed when Rachael gave me a death glare. “Look, you’re in love. You want this day to be the happiest day of your life. Only, it won’t be.”

  Rachael stood up, looking pissed and Drew raised her head, looking confused. I laughed.

  “What the fuck is so funny about this?” Rachael was not amused.

  “How many kids are you going to have?”

  Drew sat up and shrugged. “At least a couple.”

  “And each one of those will be the happiest days of your life. Do you plan on making it to your fiftieth wedding anniversary?”

  “Well, I’d like to.”

  “And that will be the happiest day of your life.” I shook my head. “Stop trying to make it the happiest day of your life. It’s impossible. There are too many other days to compete with it.”

  Rachael sat back down on the stool and put her head on the counter. “I wish you would’ve come back an hour ago when this started.”

  I smiled and turned to Drew. “I have the sample pieces in the back if you’d like—”

  Drew stood up so fast she knocked the stool out from under her. “Where?”

  I pointed to the cooler case and smiled as I followed her and Rachael. “I figured it was time to show you what it looked like in person rather than on the computer.”

  “They are going to be gorgeous.” Drew turned to Rachael and me with a huge smile. “I’m going to have a beautiful wedding.” She hugged us both.

  It was getting easier to accept the hugs, but they’d never get me to admit that.

  I looked in the mirror for the tenth time since I’d buzzed Mick up to my apartment, but nothing ever changed. I looked exactly as I did the other nine times. I took a deep breath and slowly let it out; it didn’t help. I didn’t remember being this nervous when I’d met Tom’s parents, but I wasn’t under the same pressure. I took another deep breath as I opened the door.

  He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His eyes grew wide and looked me over. I cleared my throat. “I wanted to look nice for your parents.”

  “Yeah, but,” he looked me over again as he spoke, “you are stunning. You should only look this nice for me.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek.

  “Hey.” I backed up. “We said no kissing until later in our relationship.”

  “We’ve been out to dinner twice already. I think a kiss on the cheek is perfectly acceptable.”

  “Yes, but you wouldn’t just keep it on the cheek.”

  “You’re afraid of messing up your lipstick?”

  “Shut up.” I turned and grabbed my purse off the side table, making sure my keys were in it. I took another deep breath.

  He wrapped his arms around me. “Hey, it’ll be okay. I
promise.”

  I hugged his arms. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

  Mick held my hand most of the way. I wished I’d met him before Craig. Before Tom, too. My life wouldn’t have been the same. I looked over at him. I wasn’t sure I would’ve been mature enough to accept a man like him in my life then.

  He glanced over and smiled at me. I smiled back and turned to look out the window. I wasn’t entirely sure how I was accepting him at all. He was so different to the men in my past. I felt like a different person when I was with him, and I had no way to explain it.

  We pulled up and I took my hand back and placed them both in my lap. “I’m not sure I can do this.”

  “Sure you can.” He got out and came around my side of the car before opening the door and pulling me out. “You’re with me. We can do anything together.”

  I offered a half-smile and put my hands on his chest. He put his finger under my chin and tilted my head up toward him. The kiss was sweet and soft. It calmed me if only for a moment, but it was the moment I needed to find the courage to face his father.

  I put my forehead to his and cupped his face. “We aren’t supposed to kiss yet.”

  “You and your rules. Don’t worry. Your lipstick is still perfect.” He leaned in and grabbed my purse for me before shutting the door. “Rules are made to be broken.” He put his arm around my waist and started walking me to the house. “And I plan on breaking a lot of them very soon.”

  I shook my head and laughed. Laughing felt good. His mother opened the door and I grew serious again. She looked like a kind woman with a large smile on her face, which helped to ease my nerves a little, but I was still worried about his father.

  “Oh, it’s nice to finally meet you.” She hugged me.

  I glanced at Mick and mouthed the word, “Finally?”

  He looked away, a little embarrassed I thought because his mother had just confirmed he talked about me. I smiled and hugged her a little tighter.

  She went to Mick and pulled his face down to hers to kiss his cheek. She whispered something I couldn’t hear, but his eyes grew wide and he turned a little redder.

  “Mom!” He backed up and shook his head. He whispered, but I could still hear him. “We aren’t even inside yet. Please.”

  “Oh, all right.” She took my hand and led me inside.

  I looked behind me to Mick as he followed. He was still bothered by whatever she said. I’d get it out of him later. When I looked back to where we were going, she had led me to the living room and right to Mick’s father. Our eyes locked and I stopped walking.

  Mick came up behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist. “I’d like to formally introduce you to Marshall and Laura Mooreland. My parents.” He turned to me. “Mom, Dad, this is Deb.”

  His mother smiled. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

  I looked at her and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, as well.”

  I looked back to his father to see him looking me over. I gripped Mick’s hand resting on my hip. It hit me at that moment I was standing in the room with a cop. He had the ability to arrest me if he so chose and he’d already been over the case. I tightened my grip on Mick’s hand and put my other hand behind him to cling to his shirt.

  Mick led me to the sofa. “Let’s sit.” He looked to his mother. “Unless dinner’s ready and you want us in the dining room.”

  She waved at us to take a seat. He took my hand gripping the back of his shirt and held it in his lap. It was an awkward silence as we sat down and waited for his parents to take a seat.

  His father wouldn’t stop looking at me. I would glance his way a couple times, letting him know I knew what he was doing. It wasn’t wise to challenge him, but I wasn’t going to let him think he intimidated me even though he did.

  He was rude to his son and stopped speaking to him because he wanted to follow his dream, so I shouldn’t have expected anything but the reaction I was getting from him. Why would he treat a complete stranger with any respect when his own son didn’t get it?

  “Mick, help your mother get dinner ready.”

  He stood and held his hand out to me. “I’ll give you a short tour.”

  I reached up but stopped when his father spoke again. “No, Deb will keep me company.”

  I put my hand back in my lap. Mick started to say something, but I stopped him. “I’ll be fine. Really.” I tugged on his pant leg and hoped I would be fine. “Go.”

  “I’ll be right through that door.” He pointed to the kitchen door.

  His father wasn’t pleased how long it was taking Mick to leave us alone. “Yes, no doubt trying to listen to our conversation instead of helping your mother.”

  He glared at his father as his mother pulled him through the kitchen door. “He couldn’t wait until after dinner? And why can’t I be out there?”

  I watched until the swinging door stopped moving, then I moved my attention back to his father. My attitude was going to get me into trouble with him. I could tell by our brief interaction we were going to clash, and I hoped I was ready for it.

  “Tell me what happened that day.”

  “I’m sure you’re already caught up on all the dirty facts.”

  “I want to hear it from you.”

  “I shot him.”

  “Just like that.” He put his hand up as if he were holding a gun. “Bang! You just shot him. Dead.”

  “No, but that’s all you’re interested in.”

  “What I’m interested in is the how and why.” He waved me off when I started to speak. “I’ve read the file, and I know what’s been written about it. I want to hear it in your own words.”

  “Is this how your interrogation usually goes?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you just sit the suspect down and ask them to tell you what happened in their own words?” I shook my head. “Because the few interrogations I’ve been in have been nothing but rapid-fire questions trying to trip me up.”

  “Were you tripped up?”

  “I’ve got nothing to trip on.”

  “Why did you shoot him?”

  “He went for the gun.”

  “Did you say that to Detective McCoy?”

  “Probably not.” It wasn’t any of his business, but he narrowed his eyes and made me feel uncomfortable. “I’m in therapy and I’m just starting to piece things together.”

  “Do you think therapy will make it go away?”

  “No. It’s going to haunt me for the rest of my life. I’m in therapy to process it.” I looked at him. “Maybe you should try it.”

  He ignored my remark that he needed therapy. “You shot a man. He had no gun. He had no way to defend himself against a bullet. Do you think that was a fair fight?”

  “It was his gun I shot him with. Drew and I had no way to defend ourselves against him—”

  “You chose to have an affair with him. It was your fault you were involved with him. Why would you choose someone in prison? Weren’t there any available men for you to get your rocks off with instead of writing letters with the promise of someday?”

  I bit my tongue. All he wanted was a reaction out of me and he almost got one, but I held it in.

  “What kind of woman clings onto a man who would shove his girlfriend down a flight of stairs and kill their baby?” He sat back in his chair and shook his head. “Of course, the woman who’s now mixed up with my son would.”

  “What do you care who your son is mixed up with? I’m surprised to even hear you admit he’s your son.”

  He stood. “How dare you—”

  I stood. “How dare you judge me on my past? Badge or not, you are no better than me!”

  “I’ve never shot a defenseless man!”

  “I haven’t either! I hated him. Yes, I did, but if he hadn’t gone for the gun, I would’ve waited for the cops to show up.”

  He got in my face. “You keep telling yourself that, missy. Say whatever it takes to get you through the day. You and I both know
if you were in that same situation again, you’d shoot him.”

  “Yes, I would.”

  “How do you sleep at night?”

  I looked down.

  He bent down to make me look at him. “What gave you the right to take that man’s life?” Every time I moved my head he followed with another question. “Who do you think you are to decide that? Do I have to worry when my son is in your bed?”

  “No!” I shoved him away from me. “Your son would never terrorize me. Your son would never say cruel or mean things just to get a rise out of me. He never gives me false confidences.” I couldn’t hold in the emotion anymore and started crying. “Your son respects me, supports me, and when he says he’ll be there for me no matter what, he is!” I wiped my tears away and got back in his face. “Unlike his father.” I turned and grabbed my purse.

  “I’m not finished talking to you.”

  “I’m finished. All you care about is judging me on the choices I’ve made and not what happened that night. No one will judge me again.”

  I felt an arm around my waist before I was able to open the door. I put my head down and cried. I knew his family would never accept me. I knew they couldn’t get past the awful things I’d done.

  Mick turned me to him and held me close. I buried my face into his chest and wrapped my arms around him to cling to the back of his shirt. I didn’t want to let him go.

  “Mick, show her to the powder room and let her calm down while I have a word with your father.” Laura touched my arm before she walked away.

  He nodded and took my hand to lead me down the hall. We stopped in an office. He walked us through the door and closed it before turning to me and holding me.

  “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me for bringing you here. We can go if you want.”

  I held him tightly, afraid he was going to be ripped out of my life too soon. “I just want to be where you are right now.”

  “I’m right here. I should never have left you alone with him.”

  “It’s okay. I knew he wasn’t going to like me.”

  “My mom likes you.”

  “She doesn’t know me.” I looked at him. “What did she say on the porch?”

  “Uh.” He looked away and seemed a little embarrassed again.