“They sound like great parents. Do you want me to drive you there tonight?”
“No! No, please, Matt’s already called them. He knows all my family lives in Rochester, except for my sister in Germany and my brother in San Diego. He’ll be going to Rochester for sure. He’ll call the police, report me missing...”
“I can ask the desk sergeant if there are any reports coming in looking for you, but as you’re an adult, and it’s only been—”
“About five hours?”
“Yeah, they won’t move on it just yet, even though, in my opinion, they should start looking much sooner. I guess it’s a manpower thing.”
“He doesn’t know why you left? That youleft, left? You didn’t tell him you had enough and you were going?” Loretta’s dad demands.
“No.” Her voice shrinks.
“We raised you to speak up for yourself!”
“Rob. Shh.”
“I’m sorry, honey. I’m going to wring that boy’s neck. He promised he’d take care of my little girl!”
I’ll help you, I think, but keep my mouth shut.
“Mom, Daddy, Arianna’s going to get a cold if I don’t get her inside soon. She just got over her ear infection, and she’s still having tummy troubles from the antibiotic. I need to eat something so I have enough to nurse her again. Her schedule is all thrown off. I... Matt kicked the crib. Or punched it. She woke up screaming, and I could hear she was afraid... It broke my heart. I knew. I knew right then that I couldn’t stay anymore. Even though he’s never really hurt me—much, it was obvious in that second that he doesn’t think when he’s mad. What if he shoves me when I’m holding the baby? What if—”
My brain tunes out the rest of the conversation. My eyes have narrowed, and I’m seeing some man, a fuzzy image, kicking the crib of a sleeping child, and all I can envision is a rat being crushed under my claws.
What a cowardly, immature, unregulated...
“I’ll walk up and down the block while you finish up. We should get you somewhere warm.”
“I’M AFRAID TO BE ALONE. Do you think it’s weird if I stay as Mr. Wainwright’s guest? He seems—” I gather a breath and my thoughts, wishing I could stop shaking. “He seems like the sort of person who would rush to help you. He did help me already, and I think that if Matt somehow found me, Jasper wouldn’t let him lay a hand on us. God, am I in a nightmare? This wasn’t supposed to happen to me. Matt was... Matt wasn’t like this.”
“Matt wasn’t like this,” My mother agrees, voice somber. “But Matt has always wanted what he wanted, when he wanted it. He was spoiled. Immature. When he didn’t get his way, he would pout and lash out with words. I remember thinking that whenwe had to move the wedding venue from the Fountain Room to the Vineyard Room, and he was screaming at the manager. He wanted what he wanted.”
I nod. I remember that. I remember a hundred little signs now. The way he scowled when the waiter smiled at me during one of our first dates. The way he grabbed my hand and hauled me to the corner of the dance floor at my brother’s wedding because the best man mentioned me in his toast. “Is it my fault?” I ask, because I need someone to tell me no, it isn’t.
“No.” My parents and Jasper speak in chorus.
“A person who loves you might argue with you, even get upset with you, but there should always be respect. Care that is unshakeable. Pushing you around and endangering your baby is not caring or respectful. Sorry. I have really good hearing. Runs in the family.” Jasper bows out and goes back to pacing the sidewalks.
“That man has his head on straight. His wife is lucky.”
She is. “I can’t wait to meet her and thank her.”
Chapter Four: Jasper and Loretta
“Your wife won’t mind?”
I freeze in the driveway of my too-big-for-one-person house. Loretta chose my hospitality over a hotel, and I was only too glad to give it. But I never realized she thought I was married. “Oh, gosh. I’m not married. I mean, I would love to be, but I haven’t found Miss Right yet.” Lies, more lies. I think I’m staring at her, and my heart hurts because someone rotten got to her first. “I’m sorry, I never said. Um. It’s not too late for me to take you to a hotel? Seriously, no trouble. There’s a Holiday Inn—”
“No. No, I don’t mind. I just thought you must be.”
“Yeah. Thirty-five and still single. I promise it’s not because I’m a loser or a slob.” I push open the door, and Loretta gasps. The house is pretty nice. I like things neat, some sort of rebellion at the wild raging that sears inside of me three nights a month.
“It’s beautiful. You’re sure you don’t mind having a barfing infant in the house?”
“Hell, no. I mean, um, heck, no. Sorry, little ears.” I help carry in the Crib-2-Go portable sleeper, and Loretta hauls the carseat-carrier, diaper bag, and her purse. In the bright lights of my living room, she looks like she hasn’t slept in days—but she’s still beautiful. “You must be hungry. I heard you mention you needed to eat to be able to nurse. You need extra calories, right? I can do something like a steak and baked potato... I can do pasta. I have pierogies in the freezer...” I’m probably babbling.
I really wish I could hold the baby. I wish I could help.
