The Weight of Shadows (23 page)

Emma and Rumiko came to the front to eat lunch with Bette and Kim when their clients left. Emma flashed her engagement ring for Kim to admire, and they talked wedding plans for a while. Kim hadn’t touched her wedding materials in months, but made sure she didn’t give them the impression that things had been called off, since technically they hadn’t. But now she wasn’t sure what she would do about marrying Rick. How could she when the baby would be at risk?

So many things to think about, and all of them turned upside down by Rick’s attack on the baby. How would she get things right again?

Through their conversation Kim began to weed out the people she could ask for help. Emma was trying to find someone to sublet her apartment so she could move in with her fiancé, so she was out. Bette was staying with her mom whose health was failing, so she was out, too. Rumiko already had more roommates than the lease technically allowed, so even if she invited Kim to stay with her, Kim wouldn’t want to run the risk of getting either of them in trouble.

Suzie joined them just as Emma and Rumiko were going back to their stations with new clients. Kim, Bette, and Suzie chatted for a while, though the whole time Kim was only half into the conversation. As far as she could tell Suzie might be able to spare some space for her and Anne—Kim just had to figure out how to ask.

“So…you’re still living in that place near the park?” Kim fished.

“Yeah—for now.”

“Planning on moving?”

Suzie glanced at Bette and said through a half-smile, “Well, yeah, actually. To LA.”

“What?” Kim’s and Bette’s voices rang out together.

“My cousin got in at one of the hottest salons in the city, and he said he’d hire me as his assistant if I wanted. He said he’d train me.”

“Wow,” Kim said with a sigh. “That’s an incredible opportunity. You’re right to go.”

“Yeah—we’ll be seeing you in
US Weekly
someday. ‘Stylist to the stars!’ ”

Suzie laughed. “Not likely. But who knows, right? That’s why I’ve got to go for it. My parents are helping foot the bill to get out there, though I have no idea where I’m going to stay.”

“Your cousin won’t let you crash there?”

“Eh, he would if I wanted, but I don’t want to impose. He’s already doing me an incredible favor. But heck, I’ll sleep under a bridge for this.”

That makes two of us.
Kim felt panic beginning to set in. She glanced at the clock and saw it was already almost one. She had four hours to get home if she was going to give this up, and if not, she had four hours to find somewhere else to go, since Rick would certainly come looking for her here.

The urge to be home squeezed in on her so tightly she felt like she would suffocate. “Well, I should get going,” she said, trying to sound casual and not as tense as she felt. “It’s a treacherous walk home—half the sidewalks are still snowy—and I’m tired. This is the most I’ve done in a long time.”

She got hugs from everyone and tucked Anne into the stroller. Despite how much she ached, she walked even faster than she had on the way to the salon, and when she got home and saw Rick’s parking spot was empty, she almost sobbed with relief.

She had just taken Anne out of the stroller when the front door opened. “There you are!” Rick slammed the door shut. “Where have you been all morning? I’ve called here three times.”

“At the salon. I took Anne over to see my friends.” The simplicity of the truth felt good after all the half-truths and dodging she’d employed in her conversations that morning.

His eyes slid to the duffel hanging from the stroller. “What’s in there?”

Her blood turned to ice. “It’s just…a change of clothes. For myself. In case Anne spit up on me or something.”

“Looks awfully full for one change of clothes.”

“I brought some for Anne too.”

“Isn’t that what the diaper bag is for?”

“It was full with other stuff—the diapers, wipes—”

His eyes narrowed. “Let me see.”

“Let me go put Anne down first.” She almost ran to the nursery, then kissed Anne and hugged her before lying her in the crib. “I love you, sweetheart. Don’t worry, Mama will be alright.”

She shut the door, her heart breaking when Anne began to cry.
It doesn’t last forever. It’s what you deserve, Kim. γou have no one to blame but yourself.
The broken record played in her mind as she faced Rick, who was holding the open duffel.

“You whore.” He dropped the bag. “Who did you meet?”

“What?”

“Who is he? Where is he?”

“There’s no other man, Rick, I swear. I went to the salon—call them and ask!”

“With two changes of clothes?” His hand flew, catching her near her eye. “How could you think I’d just let you go?” His fist made contact with her jaw. “I own you, Kim. You are mine. No one else can have you. No one else would even want you.”

He swept her legs out from under her with one hard kick. She collapsed to the floor with a shriek, then bent double and folded her arms around her head. He sank to his knees beside her and planted bruises over her arms and back. She had no control over the cries that came out of her mouth, and in her head the mantra kept playing.
It doesn’t last forever. It’s what you deserve. γou have no one to blame but yourself.

The punches ceased, and for a brief second she thought it was over. But then he grabbed her hair and yanked her face to his. His voice was oddly calm when he spoke. “If you try to leave me again, I’ll go to the police. I’ll tell them what you did. They’ll take you to jail and you’ll never see Anne again.”

He shoved her face away and stood, cursing as he walked to the bedroom and slammed the door behind him. She heard the shower start and only then did her body began to relax.

She rolled to her hands and knees, gasping in pain, and limped into the nursery where Anne was wailing red-faced in the crib. Kim fell to her knees beside the crib and reached a hand between the bars, resting it on her daughter’s face. Her shoulders began to shake. She wept—from pain, from fear, from anger. And the mantra was replaced by the little voice that grew stronger every day, asking when her debt would be repaid.

NINETEEN

Joshua closed the accounting program and pushed his chair back from the desk. “So I think if we can get one more good fund-raising return by June we’ll be in good shape.”

“Great—I’ll get that letter out this week, then, and we’ll all pray it pays off. Anything else?”

He pulled two envelopes out of his inbox. “These need your review, and I’ve heard great things about Chin’s Restaurant downtown. Want to join me Friday for dinner?”

Debbie laughed. “Wow. Incorrigible.”

“I know.”

“You know what I like about you, Joshua? You don’t ask with an attitude, like you just can’t imagine a woman would ever say no to you.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice dealing with ‘no,’ ” he said with a grin.

“Yeah, you have. And yet you continue to ask.”

“Well, incorrigible is my middle name and I’d hate not to live up to it.”

Debbie hung her head and groaned. “Alright, look. If I go out with you, will you stop asking?”

Joshua thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes. If you go out to dinner with me, I promise I will stop asking.”

She narrowed her eyes at him but couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Fine. You win. I give up. What time?”

“Seven?”

“Okay. Let me give you my address.”

He could hardly believe she’d said yes. After she left his office he started working again, but his mind kept leaping ahead to Friday night. He’d ask Carlotta down the hall if she could watch Maddie for awhile—Maddie had a great time with her kids—and he’d pick up flowers on the way to Debbie’s house…

…and she’d tell him she appreciated the dinner, but that she had to leave it at that. She just wasn’t ready to be in another relationship right now.

Debbie was staring at her overflowing email inbox, but she couldn’t concentrate enough to go through the messages. Her mind kept jumping ahead to Friday night—what she would wear, whether or not she’d invite him in for a predinner drink, how she would tell him that she wasn’t interested in a relationship right now. Because if she didn’t write the script before Friday, she’d end up saying yes to anything he asked.

The truth was, she
did
want to give in to him. She knew her mother was right, and she had to get over this assumption that under every nice guy was a demon. Her father was a great guy, so was her brother—she had to stop thinking they were merely exceptions to the rule.

And her own junk…well, regardless of whether or not she decided to date Joshua, she had to figure out how to get past her mistakes and start trusting herself again. She wasn’t the only woman in the world who had been suckered.
Get over it already. It was five years ago. Why are you still holding on?

Because there’s safety in the status quo.

The answer dawned slowly, growing more and more obvious the longer she thought about it. It was the same reason so many women stayed with abusive men—it had become their normal. Leaving it meant leaving the reality their lives were now built on. It meant accepting truths about yourself that you didn’t necessarily want to accept—that you were not always the best judge of character, that you were willing to allow yourself to be mistreated. It meant breaking the inertia of your existence, jumping the rail, and forging a new path. And new could be scary.

For abused women it meant redefining the basis of their worth, the fact that they
had
worth, the fact that they could in fact survive without the person who claimed to be indispensable. For Debbie, it meant admitting she’d been foolish and prideful, that she’d let visions of a wedding and babies get in the way of common sense and discernment. It also meant giving herself a little grace and recognizing that she was not necessarily doomed to repeat her mistakes.

Her inbox forgotten, Debbie stared out the window, alternating between praying and mulling over this revelation. Shadows had shifted along the floor by the time she pulled herself from her thoughts and back to the present. A tentative peace had formed in her heart, and for the first time in five years she thought she might be able to leave the past in the past.

Which meant a relationship with Joshua was not out of the question.

“H
I
D
ADDY
!” M
ADDIE BOUNDED OVER
to Joshua and wrapped her arms around him in a fierce, quick hug. “Guess what? Austin threw up this morning right after snack. There were little bits of fishy crackers and grapes in it because that was his snack, and it was on the floor and his chair and it was so gross!”

Joshua helped her tie her shoes and put on her jacket. “Well that’s…interesting. Poor Austin, I hope he’s okay.”

“Yeah, we should pray for him. And for Christie, too, because she cried when Austin got sick. I think she was scared of the throwup.”

Joshua laughed and led her out to the car. “I’m surprised you weren’t.”

She shrugged. “It was kinda cool.”

“Hm. Maybe you’ll be a doctor someday if you think stuff like that is cool.”

“Yeah, maybe. What’s for dinner?”

“Remember, kiddo? Tonight I’m going out to dinner with a friend, so I’ll make you dinner but I’m not going to eat. And then you’re going to Miss Carlotta’s house.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot!” Her feet kicked the back of his seat, a sure sign of her excitement. She launched into a list of things she wanted to do with her friends that evening, and Joshua listened with half an ear while he thought about what his evening would hopefully entail.

At six-thirty Joshua walked Maddie down to Carlotta’s unit. “Come on in! The kids are so excited for Maddie to come and play tonight,” she said with her usual welcoming smile. “I keep telling them she’s not spending the night, but they’re building forts with sleeping bags anyway. If nothing else they’ll have fun, right?”

Joshua agreed with her as he gave her a house key. “Just in case Maddie wants to get something from our place—plus I thought it might be good for a neighbor to have a key. I’ll give you my cell phone number too. And I promise not to be too late.”

Carlotta patted his arm. “Don’t you worry. I don’t mind the kids staying up late, and if she wants to sleep, we’ve got an extra sleeping bag. Take your time and have a good night. I know you don’t get many chances to get out on your own.”

He gave her his cell number, then yelled a good-bye to Maddie, who had raced off to her friends as soon as they’d entered. “Bye, Daddy!” came her reply from the bedroom. Seeing how comfortable she was here made him even more excited to get out for the evening. It was a relief to not have to worry about her.

He made a quick stop to the flower shop down the street and picked up a bouquet of tulips, then pep-talked himself the entire drive to her apartment. Despite the coolness of the April evening, he was sweating in his sport coat and kicked himself for not taking it off before getting in the car. He jacked up the A/C and turned on the radio to distract him from thinking of everything he might do wrong to screw up the night. This was his one shot. He had to make it count.

“You even got flowers?” she said when she opened the door for him. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Hey, you’re finally giving me a chance—I had to go all out.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t lose her grin as she took the flowers into the kitchen. “Give me a minute to get these in a vase,” she said. “Would you, um, like a drink?”

“So long as it won’t impair my driving, sure.”

He heard her chuckle. When she came out she was carrying two glasses of lemonade. “So where’s Maddie tonight?”

“With a neighbor down the hall. They’ve got four kids, one of whom is Maddie’s age.”

“How old is she now? Five?”

“That’s right.”

“Kindergarten’s right around the corner, eh?”

He sighed. “Yeah, it is. It’s hard to believe. She’s looking forward to it, which is good. I don’t know what I’d do if she was miserable in school. Lara and I used to talk about homeschooling, but now…” He shrugged. “But what can you do, right?” He took a sip of his drink, then shifted in his seat.
Idiot
—
you don’t bring up the dead wife in the first five minutes! New topic.
“So tell me about what else you do.”

Her brow furrowed. “What else I do?”

“Yeah—hobbies, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, um…” She shrugged. “I don’t actually have any hobbies. I don’t have the time, you know? I’m at the shelter seventy hours a week sometimes, so even when I am home I’m catching up on bills or sleep, or watching lame TV to relax. How about you?”

Joshua swirled the remnants of his drink. “Same as you, really, unless you count imaginary tea parties and watching countless episodes of
Blue’s Clues
as hobbies.”

She grinned. “Better than my sorry excuse!”

He motioned to the clock on the wall. “We should get going to dinner before we realize we have nothing else to talk about.”

They managed to keep the conversation flowing on the way to Chin’s, but by the time they had ordered they’d exhausted all the usual safe first-date topics. “Well, now what?” he asked.

She stared at the centerpiece for a few seconds, then said, “Tell me about your wife.”

He raised a brow. “Seriously?”

“Unless you don’t want to talk about it, that is. I totally understand that.”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind—just surprised you wanted to know.” He sat back in his seat and thought for a moment. “Well, she died about a year and a half ago. She had cancer—breast first, then liver, then lymph. The third time the doctors weren’t very optimistic, and I did some research on alternative medicine that Lara decided she wanted to try. But nothing worked, and by the time she decided to go back to Western treatments, it was too late.”

“That’s awful.”

He gave her a small smile. “Yeah, it was. It’s been a rough ride since then. The medical debt is just unbelievable. Maddie and I are renting a place now—I sold the house to pay off some of the bills and shrink my monthly costs. It’s working, but there are still a lot of bills to pay. God’s provided, though, and I don’t have a lot of choices other than to just trust he’s got my back.”

“Do you have any family that helps? I remember you mentioning your in-laws—”

He laughed. “Yeah, Lara’s parents are local. Unfortunately they’re a couple of head cases.” He stopped and held up a hand. “Actually, that was uncharitable. They’re mourning. Lara was their only child. But they blame me for her death because I’m the one who thought of trying unconventional treatments. And now they’re desperate to get Maddie because they want a second chance, per se, with Lara, and Maddie’s the only option they’ve got.”

Debbie frowned. “What do you mean, ‘get’ Maddie?”

“They want custody.”

She let out a laugh, eyes wide. “What? Are you serious? On what grounds?”

“Oh, they’re getting very creative. They think I don’t know how to be a parent, that I don’t feed her right, that I’m endangering her by living where we live. And it doesn’t help that they heard Rick and Kim the last time they were over.”

Debbie nodded. “I remember you mentioning that. They haven’t been back since then?”

“I told them they couldn’t come without calling first. They have a tendency to spring themselves on us, trying to catch me in the act of neglecting Maddie, I guess. Anyway—they haven’t called. I’m a little surprised, actually; I didn’t expect them to give up this easily.”

“Maybe they finally realized you actually do know what you’re doing.”

“I hope so.” He drained his glass, then nodded to her. “Your turn. Tell me about how you got involved with the shelter.”

Debbie swirled the soda in her glass. “I was hired on as a counselor first, but after two years of that, they asked me if I wanted to oversee all the day programs. I did that for a while, and then Gloria, the head director at the time, felt like it was time to move on. She asked the board to consider me as her replacement, and they did. That was three years ago.” She smiled. “Not the most exciting story.”

“But what made you want to work there in the first place? It seems like a pretty emotionally challenging job. Not the kind of thing most psych majors aspire to. Private practice is a lot more lucrative and cushy, I’d bet.”

“Yeah, it is.” She took a deep breath. “You know, I don’t think anyone’s ever asked why I started working there. Except Gloria, when she first hired me.”

He smiled. “I had a feeling there was a deeper story there.”

She nodded. “That there is.” She took another deep breath and folded her arms on the table. “So, my sister Gina was dating this guy, back when she was a freshman at MSU and I was a junior at CMU. She was always a big drama queen, so when she started moaning about the guy and what a jerk he was, we all told her to end it, then, and stop whining. No one considered that there actually
was
some drama there.

“She called me one night and told me he’d hit her. I basically said, Why are you staying with him when he’s such a jerk? If you’re not going to do what you need to do, then stop crying to me about it. Real compassionate, right?

“She ran away that night, took off on her bike. Her roommate said she was crying when she left but wouldn’t talk about what was wrong. She got hit by a car on Sunset, over by the cemetery, and was killed.”

“Good Lord. I’m so sorry, Debbie.”

She gave him a small smile. “Thanks. It was…devastating. I felt horrible, of course, that our last conversation had been so awful. And then we found out from her friends that the guy had been hitting her for a while—she just hadn’t told us. She’d even told one friend she was suicidal. Then I felt
really
horrendous. So I decided to change majors, go into psychology, and figure out what made a woman stay in a relationship like that and what had to happen to get her out. So that’s how I ended up at the shelter.”

Joshua’s feelings for Debbie doubled with her story. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her he understood now why she took on so much of the shelter’s burdens—more importantly, wanted to tell her it was okay to let some of it go, that it wouldn’t reflect badly on how much she loved her sister. But such words weren’t appropriate from a colleague. Instead he simply said, “Your drive makes sense now.”