40 Something - Safety (6 page)

“Ah Lindsay.
What are you doing?” I ask.

“Now, Wyatt is
10. He’s a star wars fan and likes to skateboard.”

“Hmmmmm. I
know. Urban. Graffiti, brick, and wire fencing. That kind of thing.
Make it feel like a skate park.”

“Lindsay. We
aren’t staying here that long.” I say.

Lindsay just
shrugged and kept making plans to redecorate the rooms. This
doesn’t make any sense to me. We’re not staying here long enough to
have the rooms decorated. Plus my kids don’t need girly punk and
urban skater bedrooms. They just need a bed. That’s it. We aren’t
staying here long enough.

“For Sophie’s
room. I’ll need the office furniture out right away and a bed
brought in.”

“Of course
darling.” She walks out of the bedroom Wyatt is borrowing, snaps
her fingers and the two large men follower her up the stairs. “So
we’ll need to pack up all the books, empty the desk, and then take
it all out.”

“You can just
move the desk over and I can sleep on the floor.” I say.

“Oooh my dear.
Heavens no. We can’t have that. This room will be your sanctuary.
Filled with –“

“I really don’t
need you to move the books or most of this. I like books. It would
be nice to read these ones.”

“Oh. Well. I
guess we could leave the books and shelves. The desk has got to go.
I have a gorgeous bedroom suite in the truck and it should fit in
here quite nicely. Even with the books.”

She smiles at
me. I feel trapped. Like I’m going to owe Lindsay and this witch
woman an arm, a leg, a lung, or Wyatt.

The kids are in
bed.

The house is
quiet.

I’m trying to
get some work done. No not house work, though I have a lot of that
to do. I’m sitting on my computer working on a marketing campaign
for a client. Trying to figure out what will catch people’s eye,
make them engage with my client’s business and by doing so spread
the word about the business organically. This isn’t easy.

Gary is
watching TV in the other room. Some zombie apocalypse TV show that
he can’t miss an episode of, which is fine. I’m busy working. I
don’t feel much like talking. I’m getting tired though, my eyes are
blurring, making it hard to read the screen. It’s getting harder
and harder to keep my eyes focused on the words. They are
blurry.

I rub at my
eyes trying to clear them. They’re probably just tired. They are
blurry almost every night now. I’ve never had a problem with my
eyesight before. I shut off my laptop and rub my eyes again. They
feel dry.

Time for
bed.

“Gary.”

“Mmmhmm”

“About today.
You know with that Craig guy.”

“Mmmhmm”

“Thanks for
coming in when you did.”

“He wouldn’t
have done anything. Guys like him are all hot air.”

“I know. It was
scary though.”

Rose had run
into Gus’ arms where she started shaking, falling apart as he held
her and walked her back to their car. Gary went and made
arrangements with the landlord. Howard helped Anna to my car as she
complained and demanded we all get alarm systems. Then we left. The
rest of the day was normal. I picked up the kids, came home, made
dinner. Gary got the kids to bed while I got caught up on work.
Normal.

“You’re fine.
Nothing happened.”

“Yeah. I
guess.”

“We can talk
about it later ‘kay. Show’s almost over.”

“I’m off to
bed.”

“Night.”

I lie in bed
staring up at the ceiling. I’m not tired. My eyes are but I’m not.
My thoughts drift to today’s excitement. I’m glad Sophie wasn’t
there. After meeting Craig again, I am certain that we have done
the right thing. She needed help to get away from him. She needed a
safe place.

Gary is right.
Craig is a bully. I’ve met a few like him in business. Trying to
get ahead by pushing their way through everyone. The world is
filled with men and women, like Craig, who use intimidation and
manipulation to get what they want.

My mind takes
me back to the suite where I can see an angry Craig coming for us,
demanding to know where his wife was. I can see the anger in his
eyes. I can hear the force of it in his voice. I sigh at the memory
before my mind wonders down a different path, a path leading away
from reality to fantasy.

I imagine I am
alone in the suite. Cleaning up when Craig bursts in through the
door, crazed anger on his face. He screams in my face asking where
Sophie is.

“I don’t know.”
I say.

He grabs me by
the throat shoves me against the wall. I try to pry his fingers
from my throat. I can feel them now, tightening, stopping my
airway. Panic. I want to scream. I can’t there is no air. I feel
his other hand ripping at my shirt feeling for my breast and when
he finds it he twists it hard, leans in and whispers in my ear.

“Where is my
wife, you fucking whore.”

I shake my
head. I shrug. I pull at his fingers on my neck. I’m going to die
here alone.

“I’ll show you
what I do to whores who don’t tell me what I want to know.”

His free hand
is ripping off my skirt. I hear the material give and can feel it
fall to the floor. He’s going to rape me. I know this with every
part of my being. Fear swells deep inside me bringing panic along
with it. I’m pulling desperately at his fingers at my throat,
kicking him and trying to squirm out of his grip. I’m failing and
his grip on my neck tightens.

“Unhand my
wife.” I can hear Gary saying.

Craig turns and
I can see Gary standing there his fists balled up, his eyes full of
rage. I’m saved. Gary grabs the man, pulls him off of me and then
punches him in the face.

“I’m going to
kill you for touching my wife. She’s my woman. Mine.”

His voice is
filled with anger and hatred. He’s beating the man. I am balled up
on the floor crying and trying to cover myself with what’s left of
my clothes. I watch Gary defend my honour. He throws the broken man
out the door, locking it and Craig outside.

Gary has
grabbed a blanket from somewhere, it doesn’t matter where, he wraps
me in it, covering my nakedness. I gaze into his eyes and see only
concern, tenderness and heat inside those orbs. He lifts me up,
bringing my face to his and I kiss him. I can feel the rage
bubbling inside him, below the surface, making his kisses hard. He
bites my lip. I scream out and he kisses me harder.

He throws me on
the bed, pulls at what is left of my clothes.

“The only one
who is going to rape you, is me.” He says.

“You can’t rape
the willing.” I reply.

He grabs my
hair pulls my head back, exposing my neck.

“That man will
pay for these marks on your neck.”

He kisses my
neck with such tenderness I shutter. The force of his hand in my
hair pulling it, exposing my neck to him and the gentleness of his
lips on my skin, fuels a fire so deep inside me I am hot to the
touch. I can’t breathe, this time passion has me by the throat and
I want it to suffocate me. I need it. I crave it.

“You are mine.
No one else’s.” His voice is full of power, command.

“Yes. I’m
yours. All yours.”

The fingers of
his other hand lightly caress my body, finding their way expertly
to the sensitive, ticklish spots driving the waves of desire up,
up, up, until they crash over me and I’m screaming for him to take
me, to touch me. To touch the furnace that rages inside me.

Footsteps.

Door opens.

I freeze and
then remove my fingers from my wet heat. Shame washes over me and I
pull the covers up over my neck to my chin.

“Hey hun. Sorry
I didn’t mean to wake you.” He says.

“Ah. Not
asleep.”

“I can’t
believe Sophie was with that guy. I’m glad we could help her.”

“Mmmm
hmmm.”

“I don’t
understand how men can treat women like possessions. It’s not
right.”

“Uh huh.”

“I can’t
imagine treating you like that.”

I watch him get
undressed. His body is softer and a bit chubbier than it was ten
years ago. The hairs on his chest are beginning to go grey, like
the hairs at his temples.

“I know.”

I wish he would
objectify me and be a bit more possessive. It wouldn’t hurt to know
that he wants to protect me, to know that I am his in every sense
of the word. That he wants all of me. That he desires me, needs me.
Thinks I’m beautiful, sexy.

“You know that
Lindsay is a tough lady. Her exes have taken her kids away from
her. Can you imagine? Having the kids taken away from you?”

“No. You’d
never do that.”

“Never. I’d
never hurt you.”

He is handsome
and I can see why so many women want to get their hands on him.
Suddenly, I can’t wait to get my hands on him. I spring up from
underneath the covers and pull him close to me, kissing his chest,
touching his back.

“Wow. Ah.
What’s got you so worked up? Wait a sec OK. Just wait. I’ll be
right back. Keep that thought though.”

He goes into
the bathroom and I lie down on the bed trying to look as sexy as I
possibly can. He comes out after what seems forever, but the alarm
clock says only 15 minutes have gone by. What the hell does a guy
do in the bathroom for 15 minutes? Especially, when his wife is in
the bed all hot to trot.

I wait as his
body moves towards mine. He kisses me. I kiss him back, trying to
put all my feeling into it. He kisses me. A normal kiss. Nothing
passionate about it. His hands wonder down my body, missing every
spot. He’s not really touching me. It feels more like he’s just
going through the motions to get the spot between my legs with his
rough fingers. He isn’t interested in touching me, exploring me,
building up my need.

Then he’s on
top of me. Inside me. Moving, breathing in my ear, heavier breaths,
he’s getting hornier. The sound of it makes my skin crawl and I
want him to finish up. He moves his hips up and down until it’s
over and he rolls off.

“Thanks hun I
needed that.”

I roll over
onto my side, thinking yeah I needed something too. I lie here,
hoping that he will hold me, bring me to him, protect me, and make
me feel safe. That sounds wrong, I feel safe. I feel safe in bed
next to my husband who will never hurt me. It’s not that kind of
safe.

I’ve read in a
few novels about the character feeling safe in her man’s arms. Safe
to open up to him and give all of herself to him. Safe to tell him
what she needs, wants, desires. Safe from judgement. Even the dark
secrets and pain she carries inside. I want to feel that. I want to
feel something, some kind of spark.

“Gary what if
Craig had hurt me today?”

His answer is a
snore. I roll over. He’s fallen asleep on his back. I can’t sleep
with his snoring in my ear. I get up. I’ll just go sleep in the
guest room. I jump into the shower. I get dressed into some
pajamas, light on, not even trying to be quiet.

He sleeps
through it all, snoring.

Glad I could be
of service.

I pour a cup of
coffee and put some bread in the toaster.

At least today
is starting off better than yesterday.

After I’d left
Mr. Jenner’s office I collected the Granger files, asked Kari to
make an appointment with Mrs. Granger, and to call me when Sophie’s
restraining order was served to her piece of crap ex. I then rushed
to the school picked up Davie.

He just needed
some sleep. Once he’d had a couple hours, he was bouncing off the
walls driving me nuts with demands and requests to go do something.
Why don’t kids understand that work is important. I want Davie to
get that. To know that working hard and staying focused on a goal
will make him successful in life. I want him to understand that
women work and men need to step up and help out.

It’s not like
when I was a kid and my mom stayed home taking care of us while my
dad was at work. She took care of the house and he took care of the
money. She was responsible for the kids and the housework. He was
responsible for filling the bank account and the yard work. They
had a system that generations before them had put into place and
defined. We don’t.

We really are
the ones who ended up having to figure out what it meant to have it
all, a career, a marriage, and children. We are a generation that
doesn’t know what it means to be a woman and a man. Gender roles
changed from the time I was born ‘til I got married. Now we are
trying to teach are kids and everyone has a different
definition.

Before we got
married, David told me he was all for equality and women’s rights.
Yeah, until he had to do housework and change diapers, then he was
suddenly old fashioned. He wanted the wife with the amazing career
bringing in the big bucks, who took care of the kids, took care of
the house, and took care of him. I couldn’t do it all.

I was too
tired.

I hired help, a
nanny, a house cleaning service, and a lot of take out. Which made
David complain about not having real meals like his mother used to
make. So, when I could, I made dinner, cleaned it up while he
played with Davie, then I got Davie ready for bed. I was too tired
for anything else. I’d fall asleep before David got his pants
off.

Justine has it
good. Gary does stuff with the kids. Cleans the house. Cooks. He
helps out. They work together. Thinking of Gary makes my stomach
flip. I can’t help it. I know I can never have him. I know he never
would love me. I know in my head that it’s impossible. Still, in my
heart, I hold onto some insane hope. Hope that he’ll leave Justine
and fall madly in love with me. I fucking hate hope. It only brings
disappointment in it’s wake.

“Mom. You’re
out of milk.”