Authors: Emilie Richards
She slipped both arms around his neck. “I’m glad you found me, Adam. I’m glad I found you. If you kiss me, can that be part of this particular day?”
“It would be the best part,” he said, right before he proved it.
Chapter 41
From the audio journal of a forty-five-year-old woman, taped for the files of Moving On, an underground highway for abused women.
Recovery from abuse stretches over a lifetime. Even though the Abuser is dead, as I face each day I’ll need to remind myself not to expect miracles. I can never regain the life he stole from me, the life of a young woman filled with friends and accomplishments and future plans. That life vanished years ago, but the one that stretches in front of me is now mine to create without his interference.
Sadly I know memories of abuse
will
interfere. I’ll blame myself for never finding a way to leave him and save my children. Forever after I’ll find myself wondering if I had tried another escape, would the Abuser have found us? I’ll replay chapters of our lives, wondering—if I had changed this event or that one—if we might have found a way to be free.
And forever after I’ll need to remind myself that the fault for the things that happened was never mine.
Healing takes time. If I expect the pain from abuse to heal quickly, I will always be disappointed. If I expect it to heal slowly, sometimes with setbacks, I will be happy at my progress.
Just as I did what I had to during the bad years, now I have to do whatever I can to move forward. The more I reach out, the better my chances of touching people. The more I reach for happiness, the more I’ll begin to believe I deserve it.
The road to recovery could be a lonely one, but I’ve been so lucky to find friends to help. I’m grateful for everything they’ve done and given me, but I know I’ll need more help along the way. My daughter will, too. We are so lucky there are people who can help us discover the things we need to put this behind us. We’ll be able to find somebody who has been trained to understand our struggles, and I think, at last, we are both ready to look.
* * *
After a long, satisfying and most likely final conversation with Bea, Jan put the cell phone Moving On had given her into the top drawer of her dresser. Even though Bea had told her to keep it, she planned to send it back, along with a sizable check. There were other women, far too many, who needed the help Moving On could give. She could never be grateful enough.
From the same drawer she took out a plastic bag of microcassettes. After a little research and with some new audio recording software, she had been able to make digital copies of all the tapes she’d recorded for Moving On. She lifted her purse off the bed and checked her hair and makeup. She was ready.
Soft music played in the living room: Nora Jones, she guessed, one of Taylor’s favorites. Laughter accompanied the lyrics, Maddie’s high-pitched squeals and Adam’s lower rumble.
Life could change so quickly. This was a change Jan hadn’t dared hope for. Yet Adam was here tonight, as he had been earlier in the week, helping Maddie make a salad while Taylor stood at the stove creating a stir-fry to go with it.
Adam smiled when Jan walked into the living room and gave a low whistle. “Hey, you look great.”
She was still getting used to compliments, but she was making progress. She no longer expected each one to end with a lecture on how she could improve.
She smiled her thanks. “Harmony picked out the dress.”
“Taylor tells me you’re going to be her new assistant manager.”
That was one of those landmarks along the road that Jan hadn’t expected. Classes for the winter term at Evolution were filling up fast, and Taylor had finally realized she couldn’t manage the studio administration by herself. Starting on Monday Jan would go in on weekday mornings to answer the telephones, take registrations and do office chores. The people contact would be good for her, and she was looking forward to gaining computer skills.
“I told her I would move out if she didn’t let me pay rent,” she told Adam. “This is our compromise.”
Taylor looked up from her wok. “We couldn’t manage without Jan around here.”
“Do you have a minute?” Jan asked Adam. “I have something for you.”
He wiped his hands on a dish towel and came around the counter. “What’s up?”
She held out the bag of tapes until he took them. In the kitchen Taylor and Maddie began chatting about what to put in the stir-fry, but Jan kept her voice low, anyway. “I’ve been documenting my life with Rex. It’s all on these tapes. I’ve been thinking about Liz Major. It might help if her attorney could prove Rex really was abusive. The jury might be more inclined to believe she shot him during a struggle.”
“
You
want to help Liz?”
“I just want to be sure the jury understands what kind of man he really was. They need to know she wasn’t the first woman he threatened with a gun.”
“They might ask you to testify.”
She had considered that. “I might welcome the opportunity.”
“You’re something, Jan.”
“Just a work in progress.”
“So much more than that.” Adam tucked the tapes into a pocket. “I’ll be sure they get where they need to go. You have copies?”
“Digital copies. I’m going to publish them as podcasts. Maybe they’ll help somebody besides Liz.”
The doorbell rang, and she straightened her skirt. “Well, here I go.”
“You tell this guy you have to be home by curfew,” Adam said. “I’ll talk to him for you, if you want me to.” His dark eyes sparkled.
“Oh, I think I’ll be okay. I’ve done a little checking. Everybody loves him.” She gave him a quick hug.
Fletcher Bailey had a great smile, and he used it to his best advantage when she opened the door. “I’m so glad we can finally get together for dinner.”
“Me, too, but I just remember, I still haven’t promised I’ll help with costumes for Camelot.”
“After I’ve wined and dined you, you won’t be able to say no.”
“I think you might be surprised. Saying no is my new hobby.” She smiled to soften her words. “But I promise I’ll hear what you have to say first.”
“I love a woman who stands up for herself.”
“Funny you should say that,” she said. “Me, too.”
He offered his arm and waited. The road to recovery might be a long one, but as she rested her hand on Fletcher’s arm, Jan knew she might just be ready for the journey.
* * * * *
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to my brainstorming friends, Connie, Serena and Shelley, who helped me while I was plotting this novel and whose fertile imaginations helped me create the women of Moving On.
I would also like to thank the very kind official in Topeka who was so helpful in my understanding of insurance fraud investigation and how investigations are conducted in that state. Of course, any mistakes are mine alone.
Even more than usual, my thanks to Michael McGee, who, during a year filled with moves and renovations, assumed control of our daily lives to free me to write this book. Thanks, too, for braving the first snow in western New York so I could finish the manuscript before we moved south for the winter. Your sacrifice was duly and lovingly noted.
Questions for Discussion
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ISBN-13: 9781460330159
NO RIVER TOO WIDE
Copyright © 2014 by Emilie Richards McGee
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