The children were sleeping soundly. She had agreed to meet with him only after she was sure they were. They didn't need to be witness to what might happen or what might be said between the two of them that night. It could go one of two ways; it could go smoothly, without a hitch or it could all come undone. She couldn't quite put her finger on what he was thinking or feeling right now.
She tried to calm her breathing. Her heart was pounding so forcefully she wondered that it might just burst through its bony cage. She ran through a mental checklist though she'd done it at least 10 times already; back pocket: keys; front right pocket: cell phone. The home phone sat positioned on the surface of the kitchen table where they would be seated for their conversation. If that phone was knocked from her hand she would have her cell phone to dial 911 as she ran through the door. On trembling legs she walked to the small mud room just off the kitchen which led to the door to the back yard. Her purse was sitting on the dryer by the back door which was unlocked. She peered through the blinds to make sure the garage door just 20 feet away was open. She wisked the keys from her back pocket and clicked the unlock button on the key fob listening for the whine of the locks assuring that the car doors were not locked. She hated the thought of leaving her children behind with him if even for a second if things came to blows. But what good would she be to them injured or, worse, dead. She could call the police and have them there in a matter of time then she could return. Surely, before he had a chance to do anything to them or take them.
She had waited for these last few days for nearly eight years. Shortly after their first anniversary she had discovered a side of him that she hadn't anticipated. No young woman in "love" would anticipate her betrothed to cross that line, though it probably happens quite often. She had vowed from that moment that she would, somehow, someday, leave him. At first it was simply as soon as the few credit cards that she had were paid off. They had a child afterall. How could she possibly support a child on her meager income while trying to pay off credit cards he applied for in her name because his credit wouldn't allow him. Then they moved...and had another child. One thing led to another. There was always something that forced her to stay. She shook her head remembering all of the mistakes that she had made. All of the warning signs she'd ignored thinking that love could change a person. Hadn't he told her that she had saved him from himself before?
She had only been this scared of him one time before in their marriage. The torment she had experienced all of the other time during the nine years of their marriage had been more obtuse. There were no bruises, scars or cuts available for observation on the outside. The evidence of the injuries inflicted could only be found within. Her self concept, until recently, was non-existant. She felt just short of a piece of meat meant for his "consumption". Not that she hadn't prayed for a black eye or a welted cheek. At least then she would have physical evidence for herself. All she was left with were questions. Was it real? Or imagined?
Satisfied that everything was ready she took the cell phone from her pocket and sent a short text message that he could come over. Her mind, dangerously, drifted.
She had been so close, just a year before, to freedom. Family members had arrived, things had been "patched", life was good for a while. It didn't take long though for "normal" to return. She had drawn a line in the sand. She prayed, "God, if this line is crossed let that be my sign." Then, a week before this night, the certified letter came. It had been a Saturday morning. He hadn't left for the morning shift yet. Pulling a strange strength from deep within she sternly warned, "This had better NOT be what I think it is" before gathering her 8 year old daughter and leaving in the car bound for the post office. She thanked the postal worker at the window and glanced at the return address on the letter clutched in her hand. The mortgage company. She didn't open it until she and her daughter were seated in the car. She worried that the reading the contents might turn her knees to liquid and she would find herself on the Post Office floor.
It didn't take long for her to confirm what she had suspected. Two months behind on their mortgage payment! They had one month to bring the account to current or they would be in default of their loan on their home. The loan whose down payment had been funded by a loan she'd taken against her life insurance. More mistakes. Where was the money going? His only financial responsibilities were only to pay the house payment and the car payment. Everything else had fallen on her plate. Her phone rang. It was him wondering what the letter was. Angrily she read the letter. Again, a new found strength bubbled up within her, "Fix it!" she said. "I don't care HOW you fix it, just FIX IT!"
The rap at the door startled her and brought her back to the moment at hand. Her hands were shaking so. "Calm yourself. Be strong. God, be with me and give me strength to do what I know I have to do. Give me the words because I don't know if I can find them without your help." Her hands stilled and she opened the door.
She tried to calm her breathing. Her heart was pounding so forcefully she wondered that it might just burst through its bony cage. She ran through a mental checklist though she'd done it at least 10 times already; back pocket: keys; front right pocket: cell phone. The home phone sat positioned on the surface of the kitchen table where they would be seated for their conversation. If that phone was knocked from her hand she would have her cell phone to dial 911 as she ran through the door. On trembling legs she walked to the small mud room just off the kitchen which led to the door to the back yard. Her purse was sitting on the dryer by the back door which was unlocked. She peered through the blinds to make sure the garage door just 20 feet away was open. She wisked the keys from her back pocket and clicked the unlock button on the key fob listening for the whine of the locks assuring that the car doors were not locked. She hated the thought of leaving her children behind with him if even for a second if things came to blows. But what good would she be to them injured or, worse, dead. She could call the police and have them there in a matter of time then she could return. Surely, before he had a chance to do anything to them or take them.
She had waited for these last few days for nearly eight years. Shortly after their first anniversary she had discovered a side of him that she hadn't anticipated. No young woman in "love" would anticipate her betrothed to cross that line, though it probably happens quite often. She had vowed from that moment that she would, somehow, someday, leave him. At first it was simply as soon as the few credit cards that she had were paid off. They had a child afterall. How could she possibly support a child on her meager income while trying to pay off credit cards he applied for in her name because his credit wouldn't allow him. Then they moved...and had another child. One thing led to another. There was always something that forced her to stay. She shook her head remembering all of the mistakes that she had made. All of the warning signs she'd ignored thinking that love could change a person. Hadn't he told her that she had saved him from himself before?
She had only been this scared of him one time before in their marriage. The torment she had experienced all of the other time during the nine years of their marriage had been more obtuse. There were no bruises, scars or cuts available for observation on the outside. The evidence of the injuries inflicted could only be found within. Her self concept, until recently, was non-existant. She felt just short of a piece of meat meant for his "consumption". Not that she hadn't prayed for a black eye or a welted cheek. At least then she would have physical evidence for herself. All she was left with were questions. Was it real? Or imagined?
Satisfied that everything was ready she took the cell phone from her pocket and sent a short text message that he could come over. Her mind, dangerously, drifted.
She had been so close, just a year before, to freedom. Family members had arrived, things had been "patched", life was good for a while. It didn't take long though for "normal" to return. She had drawn a line in the sand. She prayed, "God, if this line is crossed let that be my sign." Then, a week before this night, the certified letter came. It had been a Saturday morning. He hadn't left for the morning shift yet. Pulling a strange strength from deep within she sternly warned, "This had better NOT be what I think it is" before gathering her 8 year old daughter and leaving in the car bound for the post office. She thanked the postal worker at the window and glanced at the return address on the letter clutched in her hand. The mortgage company. She didn't open it until she and her daughter were seated in the car. She worried that the reading the contents might turn her knees to liquid and she would find herself on the Post Office floor.
It didn't take long for her to confirm what she had suspected. Two months behind on their mortgage payment! They had one month to bring the account to current or they would be in default of their loan on their home. The loan whose down payment had been funded by a loan she'd taken against her life insurance. More mistakes. Where was the money going? His only financial responsibilities were only to pay the house payment and the car payment. Everything else had fallen on her plate. Her phone rang. It was him wondering what the letter was. Angrily she read the letter. Again, a new found strength bubbled up within her, "Fix it!" she said. "I don't care HOW you fix it, just FIX IT!"
The rap at the door startled her and brought her back to the moment at hand. Her hands were shaking so. "Calm yourself. Be strong. God, be with me and give me strength to do what I know I have to do. Give me the words because I don't know if I can find them without your help." Her hands stilled and she opened the door.
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