Meanwhile, her husband had watched wrestling in the lounge chair, polishing off the last of the beer, and ultimately succumbing to alcohol-induced sleep.
She’d collapsed in their bed only to be woken the next morning to “earn her keep” and make his breakfast.
Despite their early arrival, her babies had been completely formed and healthy, though small. She’d been able to bring them home days later.
Unfortunately, they’d proven colicky, sometimes screaming for several hours straight before dropping into exhausted sleep.
“Shut them up!” he said, pressing his hands to his ears.
She scrambled to her feet, holding onto the wall as she grew lightheaded and almost passed out.
“Do it,” he yelled, “before I shut them up for good.”
Pushing through the fog of dizziness, she staggered out of the room and hurried into the small room across the hall, not much bigger than a closet. She stared down at the twins, lying together in the crib she’d salvaged from the neighbor’s trash and restored with a little paint, glue and elbow grease.
Their faces were screwed up into grimaces of fear and fury, their lips trembling. She gently laid a hand on each child’s tummy. “Shh, babies, everything’s going to be okay. I’ll make it right. I promise. Shhh,” she said, her voice breathy, a lump forming in her throat. “Mommy won’t let him hurt you,” she whispered.
The babies’ cries lessened for a moment. When she didn’t pick them up and hold them close to her chest, they raised their voices in renewed unison.
“I said shut them up,” his voice yelled from the other room. “I’ll give you two more seconds to make that happen, or it’s my turn. Jesus, do I have to do everything around here?”
Gathering the babies into her arms, she pressed them to her chest and rocked back and forth on her feet, bouncing them gently.
“Please,” she said softly, “please don’t cry. I just need a few more days to get ready.” She shook her head, knowing she couldn’t put it off any longer.
She’d considered leaving him on numerous occasions before she’d gotten pregnant, but he’d told her she wouldn’t be able to support herself, that she’d end up on the street with the prostitutes, and if she ever managed to leave him, he’d find her and make her regret it.
After she’d found out she was pregnant, she knew she couldn’t afford to raise her babies by herself. She didn’t have a degree to fall back on. Hell, she had dropped out of high school to follow her boyfriend, a couple of years older than her, when he’d moved to Dallas to pursue his own career dreams.
Now, after only a few weeks home from bringing these beautiful babies into the world, she realized staying with him would result in severe injury or death. If not her own death, then that of her sweet babies. If she were the first to go, her babies would be next. They’d have no one to protect them.
She had to leave, even if it was with only the clothes on her back. She’d hoped to leave with a few things she’d need for the twins and had started squirreling away what she thought she’d need when she made the break.
A roar of anger erupted from the other room.
Her heart sank to the pit of her belly.
“What the fuck,” he said, his voice moving closer, “is this?” He stood in the doorway with the gym bag—another find from her neighbor’s trash.
He ripped it open and dumped the contents.
A dozen diapers stashed in a grocery bag and four small outfits for the babies fell to the floor.
“It’s just a diaper bag I packed for their next visit to the pediatrician.”
She carefully laid the babies in the crib and dropped to her knees to gather the items.
“And a trip to the pediatrician requires a change of clothing for their mother?” He pulled a pair of faded jeans and a couple of worn T-shirts out of the gym bag and flung them toward her.
She swallowed hard and forced a tremulous smile. “Sometimes, they spit up on me.”
When his hand reached into the bag once more, he pulled out two pairs of panties. “Even on your underpants?” He grabbed her arm, yanked her to her feet and ground the panties into her face, smashing his hand against her mouth and nose. “You’re fucking lying to me.”
Her heart sank to her knees as she fought to pull the garments and his big hand away. She couldn’t breathe.
His arm clamped around her and held her while his other hand smashed even harder against her face. “You’re a liar and a bitch.”
She tried to shake her head.
