Because most of them didn’t. A few people in the neighborhood, maybe, but even then, they weren’t brave enough to say anything. Monty just wasn’t the kind of guy they looked at as an abuser. He was handsome, funny, and good at basketball. For many, he was the perfect man. And I was the weird girl who had insisted on going off to college, returned home without warning, and ruined a guy’s life by turning him in to the cops.
Of course people didn’t believe me. How many people there even knew me, really? And despite the evidence, it wasn’t in their interest to accept the truth. I could live with that, though. What hurt was my mother calling me a liar. She should have known better.
When I got to my room, I pulled out my suitcase from under the bed. Ididn’t know what I’d do when I walked out the door, but I knew I couldn’t stay there another second. I wouldn’t allow people to question my actions when I hadn’t done anything wrong.
Monty had gotten what he deserved. I remembered the mistreatment, the crazy messages, the humiliation and insults. I remembered him tearing my clothing and breaking my glasses. I couldn’t live with the fear of something like that happening again. I couldn’t get back on the escalator that led from screaming to grabbing, from grabbing to shoving, from shoving to slamming me against the wall. One day, I thought, Monty would come for me again. I’d thought I was safe from him at home, but now I knew otherwise. And I wasn’t just going to sit around and wait for him to hurt me.
Downstairs, everyone was shouting, but I didn’t know what they were saying. I thought I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye. Spencer came into my room and shut the door in my father’s face just as Dad appeared behind him, yelling. I’d never seen my oldest brother looking so indignant, and knowing that he was fighting for me, that he believed me, made me want to throw myself in his arms.
“Don’t worry, Jenny,” he said in a soft tone, almost a whisper. “I’ll get you out of here, OK?”
I’m not sure if I answered him. I just remember jumping off the bed, opening my closet, and stuffing a bunch of clothes into my suitcase. When I had what I needed, I zipped it shut, and Spencer took it from me and carried it downstairs. I couldn’t see the car keys in his other hand, but I could hear them jingle, and that meant we were really going.
My parents shouted at us. The twins did too, I think. But neither of us cared. I got into Spencer’s car and he sped off—I didn’t yet know where he was headed. Only when we were alone did I let the tears flow. He reached over and rested a hand on my shoulder, but he didn’t say anything, and I was grateful for it.
He parked in front of our grandmother’s house. She was sitting on the porch waiting. He must have talked to her before we left. As soon as she saw us, she stood and walked over with a melancholy smile.
“Come in, honey. Do you want a hot chocolate?”
That same night, I moved in with her.
It wasn’t ideal. I was scared of being a burden for her. She was getting old, and she had her own problems to deal with. I kept offering her part of my wages, but she wouldn’t hear of it, so I finally gave up and just tried to make sure the fridge was stocked with prepared foods so at least she wouldn’t have to cook.
My parents talked to her that first night, and Dad kept calling afterward, but Mom cut me off completely.
That night had divided the family. Shannon and Spencer grew distant from my parents. The twins, I guess, wrote me off. I understood, sort of. Anyway, it’s not like I wanted to talk to them.
I had stayed in touch with Naya after leaving school. We usually phoned each other once a week. I convinced her I was living my very best life: working as an assistant phys ed teacher, living with my grandmother to help her out around the house, with a family that adored me… She’d have liked to hear that Monty had fallen off the twentieth story of a building, but I didn’t dare make up that much. I already felt bad for lying about everything else.
But the thing is, knowing Naya, if I’d told her the truth, she would have shown up at my doorstep and dragged me back to the old apartment.
One night, I had gone out on the porch to give her a ring, and in the middle of a conversation, she asked, “Are you sure you’re OK?”
“Yeah,” I said, sitting on the porch and hugging my knees. “Of course, why?”
“I don’t know, you seem a little…quiet.”
I wanted to tell her not to worry, but I couldn’t fake it anymore.
“I’m tired,” I confessed.
Naya didn’t know how tired I meant, or that it wasn’t just my body that was exhausted, but my soul, too. I hadn’t told her I couldn’t take it anymore. But she must have sensed something, and she consoled me as best she could. That’s just how she was.
“Jenna, whatever it is that’s bothering you, I can promise you it’s not worth it. You deserve to be happy.”
“Thanks,” I said. “But I’ve got to be honest. If I’d known this conversation was going to get all deep, I’d have opened a bottle of wine before I rang you.”
“I can wait,” she responded, “but don’t thank me. I’m just trying to make you feel better. But while I’m at it, let me give you some advice. You need a change of scene. I can feel it. Where you’re living is part of the problem. I don’t know why, but I can tell.”
“You’ve hit the nail on the head, Naya. I’m sure of it.”
“You could come back, you know? Give it another try for a semester. Disconnect from home, distract your mind with your studies.”
Weirdly, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. I really did feel like getting the hell out of there. I wanted to forget everything for a couple of months. My worry was…
“I don’t want to run into Jack.”
“I know, but I don’t think it will be a problem. When you guys split up, he went to study in France. There are days when I hardly remember he was ever here.”
