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The truth is, I was tired of Googling eighty different ways to cook potatoes. I was tired of pretending like I don’t eat breakfast just so I could ration out enough oatmeal for Willow. I was tired of being tired of being too poor to be a mother.
I started off waitressing at the kind of big chain where they make all the servers sing a goofy rendition of“Happy Birthday,”but I quickly figured out that the real money was in the night scene. I will never set foot inside a strip club, don’t get me wrong, but cocktail waitresses still make way more money than pancake house servers.
I eventually convinced Martin that it was a good idea. More money, fewer questions.
That didn’t mean he’s stopped smacking me around.
He doesn’t like how I spray perfume in my long hair to coax bigger tips from the drunk executives who breathe it in whenever I lean over the leather couches to serve their cocktails. He doesn’t like the way the polyester uniforms hug my curves, or show off my legs, or put my cleavage on display for any jackass with a five-dollar bill burning a hole in his pocket.
If it’s something he feels will tempt men to ogle me, Martin hates it.
And he’s very efficient about letting me know.
The nightclub I work at recently updated their wardrobe and my new uniform arrived yesterday. It’s sequined, champagne-colored fabric with ruched sides, a plunging neckline to show off the tatas, and toga-like straps on each shoulder to keep it all in place.
On someone less voluptuous, it might go to just above the knee. But on me, it stops at the middle of my thigh. There’s a pair of matching heels we’re expected to wear while on the floor, but management encouraged us to bring flats for our breaks and commutes. How kind of them.
Martin let me know exactly what he thought about my new look when he got home and found me trying on the shoes. This time, he didn’t care that Willow was right there next to me.
ButIcared.
So when he slapped me so hard across the face I almost fell off the couch—when I heard Willow’s terrified screams—I decided right then and there that enough was enough.
“What are you gonna do, huh? What the fuck are you gonna do?” He laughed at me.
He didn’t care that I was seething.
He didn’t care that I was glaring up at him with murderous rage in my eyes or that our daughter was sobbing and cowering away from him.
“You’re not leaving this house looking like some two-dollar whore!” When he saw my tears, Martin tilted his head to one side in mocking sympathy. “Awww, did that hurt? I’m sorry, baby…”
Willow hiccupped between her sobs and peeked up at him. “Daddy?”
“Shut up!” he roared at her.
I don’t know what came over me, other than pure maternal instinct. I just know that one moment, I was on the couch, my face burning from the slap…
And the next, I was flying through the air at him.
I slammed into Martin so hard that he stumbled over the recliner and we both toppled to the floor into a painful heap of limbs.
I didn’t waste time to check and see if he was hurt. I sprung up to my feet, whirled around, grabbed Willow, and ran with her to her bedroom. Once I made sure the door was locked, I wrapped her up in my arms and we rocked together on her tiny bed.
You’re probably asking, why didn’t I call the police?
Answer:Because Martinisthe police.
I held my daughter close as his fists banged against her door. Loud. Furious.Violent.I kissed her tears away as they continued to flow. I needed her to know that I’m here. I’ll always be here. I’ll never let her grow up in the hell thatIhad to endure.
Eventually, she was able to stop hiccupping enough to sing our favorite song together, about rainbows and daydreams and bluebirds flying to places we can only imagine.
Eventually, the banging slowed into a persistent knock.
Eventually, his shouts melted into apologies and pleas.
And eventually, finally, he was gone.
I waited until I heard the front door slam shut and the sound of his car vanished down the road before I dared move fromthe bed. Then, once I knew for sure he was gone, I threw a few changes of clothes for Willow into her backpack and called my best friend to let her know it was finally happening.
