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“No, I didn’t. You demanded and didn’t give me a chance to say anything. Duke and I aren’t ready to start a family and I’m not interested in having an elective surgery for something make up covers.”
“This is only because I suggested it. You are such a spiteful child.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I’m your father. You owe me respect.”
I hold the phone away from my face. I don’t know why I even answered it. I’m free of him.
“I’m not your responsibility anymore and if you’re going to call me and talk about things that have nothing to do with you, then I’m going to stop taking your calls.”
“We’ll see what Duke has to say about all of this.”
“That sounds like a great idea. Do that.”
“What’s the matter with you? I thought once you were out of Winsome, you’d be more agreeable.”
“This is me being agreeable,” I inform him.
“You’re a married woman. I can’t command your life anymore, but I thought you would at least heed my advice.”
I scoff, “Why would I do that?”
“Because I’m your father. And I’ve forgiven you despite how you let that boy defile you.”
That does it. I drop the thin veneer of cordiality and give him my truth. “He didn’t defile me. You did.” I shout and get to my feet. “He picked me up off the ground where you threw me and put me back together. Every terrible thing that’s happened to me is your doing. And I’m more of a father to the children I’ll never have than you’ve ever been to me.”
I hang and toss my phone away. I wait for the panic to start, but it doesn’t. He can’t do anything to me anymore. I’m really free.
And I don’t care what they think or do, I’m going to accept this award and take credit for my art.
I’m not going to let Duke and my father define me.
I go stand in the mirror and look at it more closely than I ever have before, It’s a little bigger than a quarter and raised. I’ve had one corrective surgery on it. My wonderful surgeon leveled with me; It would never be the same, but I could have more surgeries, routine fillers and resurfacing treatments that would make it barely there. But, I decided not to. I’m not interested in spending my time that way.
I wear makeup over it most days still because I hate dealing with people’s stares – ill-intentioned or not, I’d rather not have a dozen conversations about it every time I leave the house. But I’m not ashamed of it. It’s a symbol that I survived something that should have killed me. And I’m still here. I lift my shirt and stroke the thin scar on my pelvis. This too, is a bloom where I used to be broken. The decision I made that day was the first step on my long road to self ownership. I have no regrets.
I pick up my phone and call Joe.
He answers on the first ring. “Hey, miss me already?”
“You have plans three Fridays from now?”
“I’ll have to check my calendar, but I’m sure I don’t. Where you taking me?”
“I’m getting an award and I’d love you to be my plus one.”
“You couldn’t keep me away, tell me when and I’ll be there.”
I give him the details and we agree that this occasion calls for a shopping trip for both of us. And by the time we hang up, I’m beaming.
I play Between Now and Heartbreak while I write my acceptance letter to them and then create a post to share on Social Media, inviting my followers to buy a ticket to support this organization.
It’s time to start my life.
46
Carter
