“Baby girl, Loretta, thank God!” Dad exclaims. He shouts to my mom, “Honey, she’s on the phone.”
“I’m fine,” I say. I mean, I’m fine as Icanbe.
“That bastard called here, angrier than a wet hen. He started off sweet and worried, but then he called back every hour on the hour from one to seven, and each time was worse, until he accused us of hiding you. I called him on his shitty behavior, said he didn’t sound like a worried husband and father, he sounded like someone who thinks his property is stolen. Missing when he expects it to be there, waiting for him.”
I bite my lip. “Oh, no...”
“Oh, but I was nothing compared to your mother at seven. She was so calm, so innocent, all night. ‘No, Matt, we haven’t heard from her. We’ll call some friends, yes.’ But then... Ooh. Like Vesuvius, Loretta. Hellfire and brimstone, saying she’d call the police and have them search the house if he called again. He hasn’t.”
“Oh, Daddy! Mom, not the police. Don’t antagonize him.”
“I know, sweetie, I couldn’t help it. He was antagonizing us. And you. He thought you were here. I wouldn’t be surprised if he drives up here.”
“He wouldn’t miss work. I mean... I guess he would if his boss realizes I’m missing and insists Matt do something about it. I actually need a pep talk. I’m going to call him and—”
The wall of shouting makes me tremble and drop my phone. “I’m not going back to him!” I manage to bark out. My knees go weak, but maybe that’s okay. I said it now. I shouted it. Ideclaredit. “I’m not going back,” I repeat in a softer voice. “I’mgoing to call him and tell him that I’m getting a restraining order and that we should get a divorce as fast as possible. Go our own ways. I won’t even ask for child support if he just lets us alone.”
My parents are silent for a long time.
“That’s not fair on you,” Daddy whispers. “What about Arianna? You’ll have to get a job and find someone to watch the baby. You know Mom and I aren’t retired just yet. I suppose I could look into it. But I’m not up for a full pension for another fifteen years.”
“I know.” I married young, just like them. They took turns supporting each other, staying home with the kids. Mom is only... I have to think for a minute, but I’m pretty sure she’s fifty-two, and Dad just turned fifty-five.
“I have a job offer that would let me stay with Ari, keep her with me. I don’t know if I’ll take it, or if I’ll need to ask to stay with you for a while—”
“Of course you can stay with us! You can stay home with her while we work, right, hon?” My mother cries.
“Right!”
“That’s generous, and that’s perfect for a week or two or even a month or two. But I have to contribute, Mom. You both know that I take pride in my work, even if it’s just being a ‘domestic engineer.’” I smile when I say Jasper’s term for my career of being a wife and mother, a job I love, a job I think is worthy.
“Domestic engineer? I love that. I want it on a t-shirt,” my mom laughs, but her voice is thick. “Do you want us to be on the phone with you when you call Matt?”
The most tempting thing in the world is to say yes—but then he’ll assume they know where I am. He’s not really rational when he’s angry. He’s definitely not safe to be around when he’s upset. If he were, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I could handle someone who has a bad temper. I can’t take someone who puts me in danger because of it. “I don’t want him to show up at your houseor stalk you guys, thinking you’re in contact with me. I’ll let him assume I’m far, far away. Let’s keep it that way for now.”
“I can handle myself,” Daddy says.
I know he can, and I know Mom can, too. But I can’t have Matt showing up at their workplaces, causing scenes. Frightening clients.
“Just tell me I’m brave. Tell me I’m right?” I plead. “I need a pep talk before I make the call.”
My parents speak to me for twenty minutes, calmly building my defense, encouraging me, and then my mother is crying, wishing she could be with me, and my dad starts next, saying he should have known, that he’s failed me. Before I know it, I’m bawling, Ari is bawling because none of this is normal, and she probably has gas, and—
And there’s a big, worried guy wrapping his arms around us and mouthing, “What should I do?”
I don’t know what he can do. Nothing, I guess, but it feels amazing to lean on something physical, something warm and solid that wraps my baby and me in strong, safe arms. “Just be here,” I whisper.
Isn’t that pitiful? I’m more comfortable with a stranger than the man who was my boyfriend, then my husband and the father of my daughter?
“I’m not going anywhere,” Jasper vows.
And in the midst of all the terrible things and the tears, I find a little spark of hope. A little ember of joy.
I wish I’d met Jasper Wainwright three years ago, I realize, and I’m so shocked at myself for thinking such a thing.
But it’s too late. Now I’ve thought about it, and I can’t unthink it.
Knowing he’ll stick by me gives me the strength to hang up and dial Matt’s number.
