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“Okay, then here’s what you do. Your next day off, you get dressed up really sexy and you go out. Don’t get drunk — that’s dangerous when you’re alone. But have a drink or two and loosen up, baby girl.
“Find another guy to hook up with. Make sure you ask him what he does for a living before you have sex with him and if it’s not illegal or immoral, do it. Maybe that’s all you need… Sometimes all a girl needs is a good lay.”
“Carla! That’s quite enough, thank you. I’m not going to use one guy to get over another one.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “You know nothing about men.”
“Why do you say that?”
She laughed. “Because it’s true, baby girl. Men don’t think of being used for sex as being used. They love it. They want you to use them. They’d stamp it into their foreheads if they could get away with it: ‘please use me for sex, any time.’”
I laughed. “You have a very skewed perception of men, you know that?”
“No, honey, I have a realistic perception. Do this and get your mind off the priest. He’s hot, granted, but lots of hot guys are out there just waiting for a hot girl like you. You’re killing yourself here. You’re boxing yourself in.”
So there I was on Friday night, my first day off since we talked, not taking Carla’s advice. I had on my shorts and my tank. I ate a tuna sandwich for dinner and then set to eating gelato straight out of the container and watching a movie on the Lifetime network as I hunkered down on my couch.
I don’t want to go out. I don’t want any other man than Jace. I’m messed up, I know…but wouldn’t I be even more messed up if I added another one-night stand to my list of offenses? I have no idea…
So, I’m just going to sit here and eat my gelato before I screw anything else up further. I will just sit here and relax and look forward to Sunday morning when I get to see Jace again. Messed up, I know.
I was about half-way through the movie. I’d finished the entire container of gelato and was seriously considering turning in for the night when there was a loud banging on my front door. What the hell? Who is at my door on a Friday night? I went over to the door and quietly looked out the peephole. Son of a bitch! It’s my father. Shit! He looks like hell, as usual.
He was unshaven and his clothes were dirty. He looked like he’d had a plenty of whiskey already. I’d be willing to be that he reeked of it. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest; I could actually hear it inside my head. I felt like I could barely breathe, like something was clawing at my throat. My chest was beginning to hurt and I was suddenly afraid I was going to have a full-blown anxiety attack.
He pounded again. It sounded like he was going to knock down the door. Shit! I had tried to tell the cop that pressured me to get a restraining order that it wasn’t going to help.
What was I supposed to do now? Throw a piece of paper at him and that will make him leave? Maybe it would give him a terrible paper cut. It’s crap and the police have to know it.
I got the restraining order the one time I called the police on him; that was one of the most traumatic days of my life. Yes, he’s a horrible man, but he’s my father.
The idea of calling the police on him prior to that day had never even entered my mind, but I was trying to leave and he wouldn’t let me. I knew if I stayed, my life would be what it was forever and I couldn’t handle that.
I had to get out of there to save my life, so I’d done what I had to do, and he had made sure I regretted it…so then I got the restraining order. Worthless.
“Daffy! It’s me, Daffy! Open up!” He banged again. How the hell did he find out where I was? God, I hate it when he calls me that. It makes me sick. How did he find me? I know that Carla wouldn’t tell him or Bethany… There was no one else.
I put in a forwarding address at the post office…was that it? I never considered that he’d be able to follow me that way. Damn it! It doesn’t really matter at this point. He’s on my doorstep and he’s going to wake the dead.
One of the neighbors will call the police if I don’t do something, but what? He’s angry with me for leaving. I can’t let him in here. The only person I really know here is Bethany and she’s at work tonight, not that she could really do anything. Shit!
My head was pounding with the beat of his fist on my door. I was beginning to panic. I didn't know what to do; I didn't know who to call.
“Daffy!” He was screaming now, and I think he was using his feet, too.
I suddenly realized that I do know one other person in town, but would it even be appropriate for me to call him? Would he come?
“Daphne Lynn Carter, you open this door right now! We need to talk, and I’m not going away until we do! You don’t want me to have to break it down, do you?”
Shit! I grabbed my phone and called Jace. It rang twice before he picked it up wit
h a sleepy, “Hello?”
Just as he did, my father beat on the door again. This time it was louder. He was definitely kicking it. He was going to break it or his foot soon. Either way, he wasn’t going away.
“Jace?”
“Daphne?” Suddenly, the sleepiness was gone from his voice. “What’s wrong? What’s all that noise?”
