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“And we are going to have your son. And then I’ll have everything,” she continues in that same tone.
I still don’t respond. I’m done using the bathroom, but I won’t come out of the stall. I’m trembling with anger.
Hasn’t she taken enough from me? Who is this odious woman Kevin wants to raise my son?
My determination and anger roil into a burst of adrenaline and determination. I stand up and pull my skirt down, while she continues her hateful taunt. “You’re so pathetic. He told me all about you. How frigid you are. How boring you are. How needy you are.”
I step out of the stall quickly and step directly in front of her, taking her by surprise. In my heels, I'm six feet tall. I tower over her and look down into her eyes, my eyes boring into hers, which go from creased in glee to wide with shock. The rapidity of the change is almost comical.
“Pathetic? Frigid? Needy? Boring?” I laugh dryly. “He’s a liar, Rachael. And if you think for even one second you will have anything when he’s done with you, you’re even dumber than you look.”
With that, I face the mirror, turn on the faucet and wash my hands, but keep my eyes locked on hers in the mirror. I hope she can see my anger. I feel possessed by it. She thinks she's going to raise my son? Over my dead body.
I tell her, “And if I find out that you are putting any of your hateful thoughts or ideas in my son’s head, you can forget lawyers, and courts and whatever else Kevin promised you. I will fucking kill you.”
I smile coldly at her and reach for a paper towel. Her face drains of color as she stands there watching me for a beat. Then, she grabs her purse and rushes out of the bathroom. She gives me a wide berth as she slinks into the hallway.
I wait two minutes and then follow her out. My legs are trembling and threatening to give out on me. But, I make it to my car without collapsing. I’ve never spoken to anyone like this before in my life. I have never used the “f” word in such a manner. But, I’m done living my life with my back on the ropes.
When Kevin left me, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to get over the pain. But this stunt he has pulled is just the kick in the ass I needed. I thought I’d lost my whole future. When really, I have been spared. Spared a lifetime of making myself small so that he could look big. Putting any desires I had on the back burner so that my husband could have whatever he wanted. But with this flaming arrow, shot directly at my heart with an aim to kill, he has shown me exactly who he really is.
Sitting in my car, I pull my vanity mirror down and look at myself. I look like the same person, but I feel as if something has come loose. And not in a bad way.
I’m starting to remember who I am. I’m not powerless, I’m not small, and I’m certainly not afraid.
4
* * *
It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’ve been pondering my future. Asking myself questions I haven’t allowed to form in my mind for a decade.
What do I want? Where will I be in five years? What am I good at? Who am I?
This morning, as I’m making my to-do list for the day, I decide I’m going to make a new list.
I’m sitting at my dining room table with a journal I picked up at Target. I’ve decided to call it “Remembering Milly.”
I’ve been thinking about who I was before my father left. What my hopes were. Who I wanted to be when I grew up. It most certainly wasn’t the shell of a person I have become. I think about the relationship I had with Dean and my heart aches because I’ll never have that again. I want something like that again.
When I met Dean, I looked at him and knew, despite his outward façade of Mr. Popular, good looking and rich, he needed a friend. I knew it because I needed one, too.
Besides my sisters, I’d had a hard time making friends because people looke
d at me and saw a reserved, cold, snob. But Dean, he knew differently right away; we just . . . clicked. So much more than that.
I reach up to stroke the ring around my neck as if it will soothe the ache this trip down memory lane has created.
My mother is right, I do know what is possible, I have had great and I want it again.
I’ve decided to give that seventeen-year-old a chance to live her dreams. It’s not too late, and as I start to make my list I feel my excitement build.
I create five big goals to focus on. I list them in order of importance.
I look at them and know to anyone else, they may appear to be simple, uninspired goals. To me, they are the things my seventeen-year-old self imagined I would do before my entire life imploded.
Addie would say I’m not reaching high enough. Lilly would say I’m taking no risks. But, they have their own journeys to travel. This is my life and I know the things on this list, all make my heart race. I’m terrified, thrilled, and proud.
I decide to focus on the business first. That’s something I can make happen now. I have a Bachelor’s in Economics, maintain my family’s budget, plan events for the school.
