Finding Abigail (18 page)

“Oh, he waited
a day, until he moved in, making it harder for me to get rid of him,” I
answered, leaning back in my chair. “So, why didn’t you tell me? “

“Because my
kids need a mother and if I told you, Rob would kill me. And I hoped that I was
wrong about Nick. I didn’t know he’d be like his brother. He’s never really
been in a serious relationship.” She paused, holding her wine glass in her
hand. “Besides, I did try to warn you at the baseball game.”

“You did, only
I didn’t understand. Until I saw the look on my face this morning, and
remembered I had seen it before, on you.”

“What look
would that be, fear, humiliation, hate?”

“Defeat. I
don’t want to be with him, but I don’t know how to get out of it. That’s what I
see when I look at you.”

She sighed,
pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes as she leaned back in the wooden chair.
“It started with us after we were married, but we didn’t live together until
then. It was such a shock. He wasn’t like that at all before then. Sure, there
were signs, but nothing compared to what he became. He said I was his wife now
and I belonged to him.” She took a long gulp of her wine, finishing it off.
“Like I’m a goddamn TV or something. They see us as a possession.”

I got up and
went to the kitchen to fetch the bottle. When I returned, I poured her more.
She nodded in thanks, a small smile on her lips.

“Why didn’t you
leave him?” I asked, rubbing the bottom of my wine glass with my finger. Since
it was crystal, it made a high-pitched sound.

“I loved him,
and he said he loved me. And every time he hit me, he was so sorry after. He
would always beg my forgiveness and bring me gifts. I know it sounds crazy, but
he’d get so torn up about what he did to me, I ended up feeling sorry for him.”
I widened my eyes in shock. “I said it sounds crazy.” She waved her hand in the
air. “Anyway, then I got pregnant, and I hoped once Bobby was here, he would
change. Of course he didn’t and I never would have had Nicky if he hadn’t
hidden my birth control pills. He wanted a boy. I didn’t want to bring another
child into the madness. I love Nicky with all my heart, but he’s another reason
why I can’t leave.”

“It can’t be
good for them to see it though.” My heart was heavy for those poor kids. To live
in a home with abuse was just awful...I couldn’t imagine the damage it could do
to them. It made me appreciate my own upbringing all the more.

She scowled.
“Rob usually waits until they’re in bed or when they’re not home, but they
know, they’re not stupid.”

“Well, I need
to do something because there’s no way in hell I’m marrying him now. But he
won’t leave. I told him it was over, I even went to the station to get a
restraining order. The captain said I had no proof since Nick denied it and
made up an excuse for the bruises.” I kept the fact that I had run to myself.

Her eyes
widened to the size of golf balls. “Wow, you actually reported him?” She shook
her head. “You’re braver than I am. He always told me he’d kill me if I did
that. Since he’s a cop and his father and brother are cops, I figured I was
screwed.” She bent down, holding her head in her hands. “Sometimes I feel so
trapped.”

My chest ached
for her, even though I was now in the same situation, but I didn’t have kids,
which made leaving him a little easier. “You could go to a shelter, and maybe
they could help you. You know, leave so he can’t find you.”

She looked up
and smiled sadly at me. “I went to a shelter once. He found me...” She trailed
off as her eyes took on a far-off look. I could only imagine what happened
after he found her. “I can’t leave. I can’t put the kids through that, life on
the run. But you should, you don’t have any children.”

I sighed. “I’ve
thought about it. But like Rob, he told me he’d kill me.”

She shook her
head, her lip twitching. “They’re good with threats, aren’t they?”

I nodded,
leaning back in my chair, feeling as trapped as she did, and frustrated because
I couldn’t help her. I just wished there was a solution for both of us. “Does
Tina know? That first night I met Sofia, I heard her and Nick arguing about
me.”

Her lips turned
up into a grin, her eyes flashing. “Yeah, she knows. She tried to help me in
the beginning, but Sofia told her to stay out of it.” When I gaped at her, my
mouth filled with wine, she shrugged. “What do you expect? Their father did it,
why wouldn’t his sons?”

I swallowed
hard. “Carlo hits Sofia?”

“Yep, I once
asked her why she allowed it. She told me that he had a stressful job and
sometimes he couldn’t help it. But what he was doing was important, so she just
accepts it.”

I froze, my
eyes still glued to her, my hand clutched to the arm rest of the chair. “Oh my
God, that’s crazy,” I gasped. “Nick said something like that the first time he
hit me.”

Heather
swallowed the last of her wine and started to rise. “Well, I should go before
Rob finds out I was here. He’ll think we were plotting against him.” She made
her way to the door and put on her coat, then paused with her hand on the knob,
her shoulders heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job of warning
you, and that you’re mixed up in this.”

I nodded,
wishing she had too, but I would never say that, it wasn’t her fault. I should
have paid more attention to the signs—his short temper and horrible jealous
streak. “If you need anything, let me know.”

She smiled as
she walked out and shut the door behind her.

The sudden
silence in the apartment, after what we had just discussed, felt like a living
pulse of loneliness.

I stowed the
leftover wine in the fridge and rinsed out our glasses. I didn’t want Nick to
know I had company. Then I plopped down in front of the TV and thought about
our talk. It only added to my resolve to run, and as soon as I had all my ducks
in a row, I was gone. My only regret was my family and friends. I would miss them
so much but I knew that they would want a better life for me, and that wasn’t
here.

The Plan

As the weeks turned into months, I learned
how to avoid arguments with Nick. It was more of a trial and error thing. As
long as dinner was on the table, he’d be happy. In order to avoid him, I
started taking my run right after dinner was ready. By the time I came home he
was finished eating and was involved in a game on TV, so I could slip into the
bedroom unnoticed. I was safe until he came to bed and wanted to make love. I
let him do what he wanted, usually pretending he was someone else to make it
more bearable.

My plan
sometimes didn’t work. If he had a bad day, anything could set him off. I
didn’t order the right food. I wasn’t there when he got home or I didn’t wash a
shirt he wanted to wear. These fights usually ended up with me crying myself to
sleep and waking up with bruised wrists, back, or legs, like the time he kicked
me in the shin because I was blocking the game. And like clockwork, he’d
apologize, with flowers or jewelry. I woke twice more with his nighttime
painful apologies; the difference was, I no longer believed him. But I would
never admit this to him
. Grin and bear it
was my new motto.

Two months
after I decided to run, I was almost ready to go. I was heading to Canada. I just had to pick a destination. I was thinking of Toronto. It was big, like New York, crowded enough to get lost in. The day before I planned to put everything in
action I received a call from Brenda. My mom had taken a fall at work. I was
panicked at first, worried about my only parent, but was assured that it was
just a broken leg. The problem was she would need help at home, so Brenda
wanted to take turns helping her. This meant I had to wait to leave. I couldn’t
help feel the sting of tears. I had been so close to freedom, and now I had to
wait. I didn’t blame my mother, it wasn’t her fault. I was just frustrated.

Nick didn’t
take the news well. He didn’t like me spending so much time with my mom. The
only way I could settle him down was to promise I’d be home when he got back
from work. I was hoping I could take the day shifts, Brenda the evenings.

As the weeks of
my mother’s care flew by, I lived a double life. I felt free with her during
the day, and hated returning home. At night, I never left the apartment. Nick
didn’t want me to go out much. He said it was because he wanted me all to
myself, but I wasn’t an idiot. The typical response of an abuser was to isolate
the woman from their family and friends. But honestly, I didn’t mind. I was
ashamed that I had allowed my life to turn out this way, and I couldn’t face
them. So at night, I isolated myself from my former life. My apartment became
my prison, Nick my jailer. I was a shell of the woman I once was. And my mother
noticed. I lied to her every day. She asked me frequently if I was okay. And I
answered that I was fine each time.

I enjoyed my
time with her. I kept busy doing the chores she couldn’t, and when I was
finished, we’d play cards. She became my escape, the only one outside of Nick
that I saw.

And when she
got better, I was all alone.

Months flew by
and there always seemed to be a reason that I couldn’t leave—Christmas,
birthdays, Justin’s or Hayley’s recital or school play—there was always
something and before I knew it, it was the New Year and I was still miserable,
living a life feeling trapped and hopeless.

One afternoon
in early February, I was sitting on the couch double-checking my list of things
that needed to get done before I left, when there was a knock at the door. I
got up, glancing quickly in the mirror hanging on the wall to check for
bruises. Nick was careful not to mark any skin that showed, but I liked to make
sure just in case. Nick hadn’t hit me in over two weeks, and it was making me
anxious. Since my face was clean, I opened the door to find Debbie leaning
against the doorjamb looking pissed.

“You’ve been
avoiding me,” she said, stomping into the living room and collapsing onto the
sofa. She was right, of course, I was avoiding everybody. If it wasn’t for
special occasions I would never see my family. I picked up my list and turned
the page before she saw what was on it.

Her curly
cinnamon-colored hair was up today. The rust-colored blouse she was wearing was
low cut, and her black pencil skirt showed off her legs. She was glowing. Brian
must have been good for her. I was both happy and jealous at the same time.
“So, what’s going on with you? You don’t return mine or Brenda’s phone calls.
You haven’t been handing in any more chapters. I haven’t heard anything about
the wedding, and neither has Brenda. Either you’ve picked other bridesmaids, or
you’re not planning at all.” She kicked my slippered foot that was resting on
the coffee table. “So come on, which is it?” She set her bag down beside her on
the floor.

I moved my
foot, folding it under me. “Nothing’s going on. I haven’t started planning the
wedding, but I have lots of time. And I’ve decided to take a break from
writing. I never take time off. I think I’m entitled, don’t you?”

She narrowed
her eyes, studying me. “Well, yes I think you’re entitled. Wasn’t it me telling
you before you met Nick that you worked too much?” She leaned forward and
placed her hand on my knee. Her touch was comforting. It had been so long that
I was touched without wincing. “But you haven’t written in four months. That’s
not like you. Something’s wrong, and I’m not leaving until you tell me.” She
pulled her hand away and sat up straight.

I folded my
arms in front of me, suddenly panicked. She couldn’t know my secret. I was to
ashamed. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“I didn’t want
to have to do this, but you leave me no choice.” She opened her bag and pulled
out a small container. Lifting the lid, she revealed my favorite cake.
Damn
it, she played dirty
. “Three-layered red velvet, with cream cheese icing
and chopped pecans. It’s your favorite. Now tell me what’s wrong or I’m taking
this home.”

I breathed in
the sweet smell of chocolate, fighting the urge to grab the container from her
hand. Instead, I looked away, my mouth watering. “No thanks, I’m not hungry.”

I saw her face
change from a teasing smile to worry—lines formed between her eyes, her lips
pressed together. Standing up, she pulled me into her arms. I held on tight,
craving her warmth. The smell of her kiwi-scented shampoo reminded me of when
we were roommates. “Abby, you are my best friend. I’ve known you since college.
We’ve been through everything together. Now please tell me what’s wrong.” Her
voice was soft, pleading. It made me feel good that she cared so much. It was
true what she said. We had always been close, and if our situations were
reversed, I would do the same thing. But I just couldn’t open up to her. I had
to face this alone. I couldn’t bring anyone I cared about into this.

I pulled away
from her, about to answer, but she stopped me before I could. “Don’t say it’s
nothing, because I know you.” I stepped away, sitting back down on the
armchair. She stood in front of me with her hands on her hips. “Is it Nick, are
you having second thoughts?”