Returning Injury (4 page)

Rebecca and Lily went to Pet Smart, and Rebecca bought everything she could possibly need for her new baby. She had only
had Buddy before so having a dog was a whole new experience. She bought books and magazines about pugs and dog training.

She was a little nervous about buying Lily while Jack was out of town, but when he came home, he was thrilled. He loved little Lily from the start.

“She’s ours?” Jack asked.

“Yes,” she said and handed her to Jack.

“Does she have a name?”

“I hope you’re okay with Lily.”

“Baby Lily.” He kissed Lily’s head. “She’s so little… and cute.”

“I know. She’s naughty too. She pees a lot.”

“So we’re potty training now.”

“Yes, let me tell you what I’ve learned.” She led them to the couch to sit down, urging him to keep holding Lily or she would pee. She explained crate training. Lily needed to sleep in her crate so she would learn to hold her potty until morning. Rebecca also had a long baby gate to keep her in the kitchen nook with the hardwood floors. Agreeing with everything Rebecca explained to him, Jack also read the books to better understand their new baby.

A month later when Rebecca went out of town on business, she trusted Jack to be consistent with Lily. Two days later she came home about ten o’clock at night and found Jack cuddling Lily in bed, both of them fast asleep. She smiled, leaned over and kissed them.

Lily never slept in her crate again, and the spoiling had begun.

Rebecca hit power on the stereo and turned toward the kitchen. She was suddenly struck with fear, ducking in panic. She quickly turned back and turned the volume dial to off. She stood there for a second shaking from that sudden shock of blaring music. “Nice, Jack!” she said in disgust. She turned the volume down and tuned the satellite radio to Lite Jazz. The jolt of blaring music alone could have put her in a bad mood, but she wasn’t going to let it. The jazz was soothing, and she started to relax again.

Rebecca headed to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. She grabbed the large folder she had received in the mail from Angie, turned on the fireplace using the remote control, and made herself comfortable on the chaise lounge in the living room. Lily jumped up and lay down next to her. Rebecca glanced at the clock; it was six-thirty and starting to get dark outside. She turned on the lamp next to her.

“What do we have here?” Rebecca pulled everything out and started going through Angie’s things. There was a note from Angie.

Hi Rebecca
,

I know you said you wanted to learn more about me and what I’m doing, so I put this together for you. I’ve worked with the National Coalition for the Protection of Children and Families. I’ve also been very involved in community education and the Community Notification Act. I’ve worked with Morality in Media, women’s prisons, and I’ve been a guest speaker for convicted male sex offenders and Take Back the Night. I’ve written several articles for local and national magazines and newspapers (included in packet) and there have been several articles written about me. I think there’s even a novel based on my life called The Gentlemen’s Club. I’ve just started reading it, and I love it.

Please call me if you have any questions or need more information on any of these topics.

Angie

P.S. I’m looking forward to working with you!

The first thing Rebecca read was the transcript of a speech Angie had given to six hundred Boston high school students while she was working on a domestic violence case just outside Boston.

During her talk, a bell chimed every fifteen seconds representing a woman who had just been abused in the United States.

Angie introduced herself as a public speaker, writer and part owner of a national women’s newspaper. She said she used her medium to write and speak out against violence against women and children.

Angie explained violence to the kids. “Violence against women, teenagers and children is very much intertwined and connected.
Violence is sexual abuse, physical abuse, stalking, fearing physical abuse and witnessing abuse in the home. Violence is rape, sexual assault and all forms of prostitution, including strip clubs and pornography. Violence is when children are kicked out of the home or feel the need to leave to get away from violence. And there is a direct link between child sexual abuse, rape, prostitution, depression, addictions, domestic abuse, pornography and runaways. Statistics show that anybody who goes through some form of violence or abuse and doesn’t get help is more likely to end up going through more abuse, such as an abusive marriage, rape, other forms of abuse or abusing others, homelessness, drug or alcohol addiction, eating disorders, suicide and prostitution.”

Angie asked the students to think about their lives while she shared her own story. Her father left the family when she was an infant, leaving her feeling unloved and abandoned. She was molested at age eleven by a friend of the family; she felt alone, embarrassed, humiliated, guilty and different from others. She married young and found herself the victim of domestic abuse; she felt fearful, alone and confused. She ran to save her life and eventually found herself homeless and contemplating becoming a prostitute as a stripper. She felt desperate, useless, and was in emotional pain.

Rebecca took a sip of wine. She had felt all of that after being attacked by Roy.

Angie explained the cycle of abuse, the signs of a potential abuser and self-esteem issues. She talked about how her life was a perfect example of what happens to a victim of abuse who doesn’t get help:
abuse leads to lower self-esteem, which in turn leads to self-destructive behavior and self-inflicted abuse.

Angie’s way of getting her life back on track consisted of reaching out for help, getting counseling and finding a place to live. She found someone to help her with her finances, and she decided to go back to school. Angie regained her self-respect, her morals and her values. She had to find direction in her life; she had to have goals and dreams, so she could have a bright future. She chose writing.

Angie talked about how hard it was to take her life back and what it felt like to start moving in the right direction. After each positive incident in her life, she felt stronger, more hopeful, and more honorable. She finally had control of her life and her future. She believed in and respected herself.

Rebecca thought about her own experience when she was too afraid and weak not to call the police for help. They referred her to Victim Services. She was thankful that she started getting counseling and the help she needed right away. She was thankful that she realized she needed that help.

Rebecca choked up because she could also relate to those feelings of pride and strength. She was a little surprised by the similarities between Angie and her. She didn’t realize how experiences weren’t as important as the feelings the experiences created when connecting with other women.

Angie wrapped up her talk by sharing her joys and successes, answering questions and recapping the importance of reaching out for help, guarding your values and morals and going for your dreams and goals. She also gave each of the students a handout filled with hotline telephone numbers to call if they needed help.

Several newspaper clippings were attached to the transcript of Angie’s speech with interviews about her talk. Clearly, Angie attracted the media, which would make Rebecca’s job that much easier.

Rebecca wrote a few notes about violence against women and children, then got up and went to the kitchen. The wind was picking up and, as solid as it was, the house groaned and rattled a little in the strong gusts, startling her from time to time. She poured another glass of wine and went back to the living room.

She wondered why, after being attacked by Roy, she couldn’t get to the phone fast enough, but when Angie was sexually abused and abused by her husband, she didn’t tell anybody.

Rebecca wrote, “Was it the age of the victim, the type of violence or both? Are children easier to manipulate? Are women groomed into accepting violence? Had Angie been taught to accept violence?”

Rebecca stood in the living room and looked out the wall of windows. She watched the wind race through the trees. Though it was almost dark, she searched for coyotes and strange cars but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Then she thought about Roy and how they met.

Rebecca was the assistant to Ed, a writer and editor for the local newspaper. Roy had been Ed’s childhood friend and had just moved back to town the last year. Roy had called often and wanted to put a face to the woman he kept talking to. From the start, Rebecca had a feeling he was trouble, but he was attractive and interested in her, and she was flattered. He asked her out the first time they met.

Rebecca had spent Saturday cleaning her apartment and pampering herself, getting ready for her first date with Roy. When she finished cleaning her place, she placed a pot of water on her stove burner to simmer. She added vanilla and lavender-scented potpourri to the water. Rebecca loved when her apartment smelled good. She didn’t bake or cook so she learned to enjoy the scents of candles and potpourri. Some of her favorite scents were vanilla, sugar cookies, birthday cake, lavender and sometimes cinnamon.

Roy seemed nice and had a great job as a firefighter. There was an allure to dating a rescuer. In most people’s eyes, firefighters were heroes. She secretly hoped that he would be the one. Rebecca knew she would like to settle down someday and why not with a superhero. Rebecca hadn’t been on a date for a while, and she was excited.

When Roy came to the door to pick her up, he looked amazing. His dark hair, bright blue eyes and tan skin added up to a very good-looking man. And he smelled great; she had always liked Polo.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m all set.” She grabbed her keys and bag, locked the door behind her and followed him down the stairs to his truck. He opened the door for her, and she got in. He waited until she was settled in, then closed the door behind her.

They had already decided on Chinese, and they were both quiet on the way to the restaurant. He was shy, which she didn’t expect because Ed had made him out to be so much fun, outgoing, life of the party.

He seemed nervous until their food arrived. Roy and Rebecca talked and ate, both relaxing as the time passed.

About halfway through their meal Rebecca panicked. “I have to go!” she demanded. “I have to go home right now!”

“Why? Are you okay?”

“Yes, but I have to go home!”

“Okay. I’ll get some take-home containers.” He turned to look for their server.

“Okay.”

“Did I say something that offended you?”

“No,” she said, “but I can’t tell you.”

“Why can’t you tell me what happened?”

“Because you’re a firefighter.”

“What?”

“Roy! I left my stove on at home!”

She could tell he was trying not to laugh. “I’m sure it will be okay.”

“I don’t think so. If the water dries up, the potpourri will start on fire!”

The server came over.

“We need take-home boxes and the bill, because we have an emergency at home.”

Rebecca liked how he made it sound like they had a home together.

“I’ll be right back,” the server said.

Rebecca’s stomach was aching. Things were not moving quickly enough. She kept picturing her place on fire. She couldn’t focus on anything except getting home. And Buddy was in her apartment.

Rebecca was antsy on the drive home and couldn’t understand Roy’s calmness. His lack of concern angered her. It was as if he
didn’t care because it wasn’t his house burning down. He let people cut in front of him; he didn’t run yellow lights. It wouldn’t be all of his things ruined, she thought as she worried about her neighbors and the others in the building. What if she caused the fire that would destroy people’s lives or kill people who lived in the building?

When they got to her apartment, Rebecca ran up the stairs and into her apartment, which smelled strongly of lavender. Roy followed at his own pace. She ran into the kitchen and saw there was still water in the pot. Everything was fine. She turned the burner off and walked back into the living room where Roy was bent over petting Buddy.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s fine. But I’m exhausted.” She put her hand on her forehead for a moment, then pushed her hair back. Her energy had been sucked away by her panic and his unwillingness to share her urgency.

“Oh, yeah. I understand. Let me go and get your food. I’ll be right back.”

Rebecca calmed down and feared she had given him the wrong idea; she was still interested. She just thought their date started off badly and it was her fault. She decided to ask him if he wanted to stay and finish eating. He didn’t, but they did continue seeing each other.

After only a couple of dates, he considered Rebecca his girlfriend and started showing his true colors. He called her at all hours of the night to either share an exciting story or idea he had or to complain about problems at work, or with family or friends. He seemed to
have a lot of problems with life in general. Nothing was ever his fault. Most of their conversations consisted of her trying to “fix” him and all of his troubles. Roy’s odd behavior, full of energetic highs and devastating lows, concerned Rebecca enough that she did research on the computer and diagnosed Roy as being bipolar. It was the only thing that made sense. His moods were hard to keep up with.