Pieces For You (38 page)

Three days later we returned home rejuvenated; I had never had so much fun in my life.  We enjoyed every moment together with the joy of children—walks along the beach, wine tasting, exploring small island towns…it was a dream.  We even found a deserted playground to horse around on.  We competed on the swings to see who could fly the highest (I totally won if you didn’t consider the length of Griffin’s legs), after which we attempted to seesaw, an epic failure given our weight and height difference.  My favorite part was watching Griffin get stuck in the covered twisty slide when he tried to follow me down.  I nearly choked to death I was laughing so hard. 

We spent our nights tangled in each other and physically expressing the depths of our growing love.  It was magic.

When we arrived at my house, I was relieved to find it was media-free.  Hunter had texted us that the guard on duty the morning of our departure had been fired and the complex promised nothing of the sort would happen again.  The DA’s office had also found the leak and immediately terminated them with possible charges pending.  I was still receiving countless voicemails from news outlets requesting comments or interviews, but I deleted them all without listening for more than a few seconds.  All things considered, life was shockingly fantastic.  I was so happy I barely knew what to do with myself.

I wasn’t scheduled to work until Monday, so I stayed home the following day to catch up on laundry while Griffin headed to The Stop.  The home phone rang and I reflexively answered without thinking.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Whitney, this is Liz from
60 Minutes
—please don’t hang up.”

I was about to do exactly that, but something in her voice stopped me.

“Oh, you didn’t hang up,” she said, surprised.

“You have two minutes.”

“Fair enough.  We’ve covered the issue of colleges turning a blind eye to rapes reported by students, as well as the manipulation of crime statistics in the past.  We were planning to tackle the topic again, seeing as little has changed, and using the tragedy at Hensley as a cautionary tale.  The events were so extreme and the university so negligent, we believe it may inspire viewers to demand changes in state and federal laws governing collegiate reporting.  We planned to air when the trial began for maximum exposure, but given
his
death, we are going to air next week.  We would like to include an interview with you in the feature.”

I noticed and appreciated her discretion in not speaking Heath’s name to me.  I was also impressed by her passionate explanation of the show’s mission for this segment.

“I applaud your goals, but I’m not sure I’m the right person for your interview.  I have no direct knowledge of how the university handled previous complaints about Heath.”

“You’re exactly the right person,” she protested vehemently.  “Sorry, I’m passionate about this episode; it’s sort of my life mission.”

I understood immediately.  Someone she loved, if not herself, had been raped during college and justice had not been served.

“Why me?”

“You are the heart of the story.  It’s just another news bite about blah, blah doing something wrong, blah, blah.  That is what viewers hear unless we give them something to connect to emotionally—a person with whom to empathize.  To succeed, the viewers need to ask themselves—what if that were my child?  That is the only way that we can engage them to action.”

“That makes sense, but why me?”

“Because your story is one of survival and hope.  You’re likable and viewers will sympathize with you.  Because you are the last victim, and…because you are the only one strong enough to do it.  You were the only witness for the DA who was also a victim.  I know Miss Carsen had a close call, but her story won’t have the same impact.  It has to be you.  I’m asking you to be the voice for all the other victims.  Not just the ones at Hensley, but all girls who have experienced what you have and never had the opportunity to seek justice or tell their story.  You can speak for them, and you can inspire them.  You are proof that they can survive, overcome, even thrive after what’s been done to them.  You are the phoenix they need to give them hope.”

My eyes welled at the thought of all the others who had suffered in the past and those who would in the future.  I thought of the other girls at The Phoenix Centre, as broken as I was, but many already hopeless.

“What would I have to do?” I asked.  I couldn’t believe I was actually considering this. 

“You just need to answer some questions…tell your story.  We will email you all the questions in advance, so there will be no surprises.  We will even sign an agreement that the show will not air if we ask even a single question not provided to you in advance.  We aren’t looking to sensationalize the story for ratings—it’s already so outrageous that there’s no need to create drama.”

“I need to think about this before I commit.  Send me the questions and I’ll look them over.  When do you need an answer?”

She cleared her throat nervously, “Well, ideally by tomorrow morning.  We need to set the schedule and prepare the promo spots to begin airing.”

“No pressure, huh?”

“Sorry, I want to time the airing for maximum impact.”

“Email me and I’ll get back to you with my decision by tomorrow morning.”

“Great.  Thank you so much.”

After we hung up I sat at the kitchen table, debating.  I didn’t want to do it.  I didn’t want to be the spokesperson for every rape victim.  I didn’t want the whole world to know my name, know what had been done to me.  But the guilt of doing nothing gnawed at
me.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Thia’s cell phone.  She answered on the first ring.

“Can you be at my office in fifteen minutes?”

That was quite the greeting, although I would have been disappointed if she’d answered the phone with a typical ‘hello.’

“I’ll be there.”

I called Griffin on my way to let him know I was headed to Thia’s and I needed to discuss something with him when he had time.  He tried to cover the concern in his voice but failed miserably.  We agreed I’d come to The Stop immediately after my appointment.

I arrived a few minutes early and met Thia in the parking lot.

“Sorry, I was coming from the university.  My schedule is tight today, so you’re only allowed forty minutes to sort out whatever ails you.  No niceties or stalling…straight to the point.  Got it?”

“You got it, boss lady.”

We entered her office, where I immediately recapped the phone call and my hesitation.

“Most sane people wouldn’t want to enter the limelight and expose themselves in such a way.  I guess that means you’re sane,” Thia began.  “I can’t tell you what to decide, Sam.  I will say that you have nothing to feel shame about—you did nothing wrong.  We can debate whether you are the best representative for the victims of rape until we are both breathless, but it’s irrelevant.  You are that person.  You are a rape survivor, but it’s not all you are—you are strong and intelligent, courageous and sensitive.  Most importantly, you are the reminder to every other victim that it does get better…whatever imperfections you think you have, whatever flaws you believe remain, you are still worthy of love and happiness…and so are they.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be impartial?  There was a whole lot of ‘partial’ going on there.”

“Sometimes the best way to help a client is to give them the truth.  You get to decide how to assimilate that truth into your life, but this is not a matter of opinion.”

“I really don’t want to do this, Thia,” I said, taking a deep breath, “but I will.  If the interview could effect change in colleges and prevent future rapes, I have no choice but to go ahead.  I owe it to the girls who died, to those who will never have a chance to tell their stories.” 

“You had already decided to do it.  You wouldn’t have called me otherwise—you would have called someone who would dissuade you.”

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” I asked with mock insult.

“Oh no, I know I’m that clever.  Genius, didn’t you know?” she said, tapping her finger to her temple.

Well, that explained her eccentricities.  Weren’t most geniuses eccentrics?

“Time’s up.  Your homework is to admit to yourself you are going to do this…then call the TV lady and give her the green light.  Read the questions she sends and call me if you have any concerns.  Now scram.”

I rose and trudged toward the door, reluctantly accepting her conclusions.

“And Sam, one more consideration,” she paused, assessing me.  “When you say ‘yes,’ you will have a perfectly justifiable excuse to buy a new outfit and shoes.”

I gave her a smile as wide as the Grand Canyon.  That woman knew the way to turn my frown upside-down.

I continued smiling as I drove to The Stop to share my decision with Griffin.  I had just closed my car door when an unnerving thought occurred to me.  What if Griffin didn’t want me to do the interview?  Fuck!  I’d never even considered the possibility.  What would I do if he asked me not to do this?

I walked into The Stop like a woman heading before a firing squad, fearing the worst.  Griffin saw me from behind the bar and immediately came to my side.  Without a word, he took my hand and led me to his office.

“What’s up?”

I explained about the call from Liz and why I wanted to accept her invitation.  He never said a word or gave any indication of his thoughts.  He was a disturbingly blank slate.  When I finished, I waited for him to respond, but he said nothing.

“Well?” I finally asked when the suspense was too much to bear.

“Well, what?  I support any decision you make.  If you need to do this, then what is there for me to say other than ‘I have your back’?  And I do, Sam, I will always have your back.”

I threw myself onto his lap, clamping my arms around his neck in a vice-like grip.  Then I kissed him like he was the center of my universe…because he was.

“You are perfect,” I said, my lips still pressed to his.

“No, Lo, I’m not perfect.  I’ve done things you may not approve of.  I’ve been trying to tell—”

“Okay, close to perfect.  Definitely perfect for me,” I said, cutting him off.  “And I’m going to make you prove how perfect you are for me when you get home tonight.”

He groaned as I wiggled my butt on his lap to drive home my point.

“You just love me for my body,” he teased.

“No.  I dig your pretty face, too.”

“Pretty?” he complained while tickling me.

We stayed that way for a while, holding and teasing each other—just being us.

I walked into Higher Yearning to find Meg beaming at me.  She was glowing so brightly I was tempted to fish my sunglasses out of my purse.

“Someone’s in a sunny mood today,” I said after storing my purse and coat in the back.  “What gives?”

“Oh, no reason, I just had a great weekend.”

“Your date.  Shit, I forgot!  Tell me everything.  Is the mission accomplished?  Were you right about the Ph.D.?”

“We didn’t get that far.  We met in Port Jefferson, then went to a bar and danced for hours.  His dance moves were unreal…I was closer to finding my happy ending dancing with him than I’ve ever been with another person.  Mind blowing,” she said with a glassy look in her eyes.

Yep, man definitely held a Doctorate in Erotic Fine Arts.

“So there was nothing other than dancing?”

“He kissed me goodnight—again, mind blowing—but I didn’t feel comfortable inviting him to my place and he didn’t offer his.  Total bummer…but he asked me out again for next weekend, so I have my fingers crossed for a more
fulfilling
outcome.”

I laughed at her dramatic wink, happy to see her so enthusiastic.

“I’m not looking for a
relationship
relationship, but I think this one has the potential to be just the right balance of exclusive fun without all the emotional entanglements.  I could see more than a one-night stand with him.”

“Well, if his naked dance moves are as good as his clothed ones, you may want to go back for seconds…and thirds,” I said.

“Exactly.  We had a great time at dinner.  The conversation flowed, he was charming, and we laughed a lot.  Casual dating with toe-curling goodnights is exactly what I need.  No muss, no fuss—and when it runs its course, there are no hard feelings, just some steamy memories and lingering laughs.”