Page 170 of Give Me Love
There’s no traffic, no other houses—just an empty field, a fallen porch, and shutters hanging on by a nail. Jesus, it’s in worse shape than I remember.
Nostalgia hits me as I turn into the driveway. I put the car in park and stare at the front of the house. I still remember the weight of my suitcase. The nerves and excitement in my stomach. He was gone. He’d left to do a run. He had a supplier of his own, and that guy wasn’t coming here.
I hurried like he’d walk through the door any minute and catch me. He was gone for twenty minutes before I jumped off my bed and ran out to the backyard. It was long enough so if he forgot something, I’d still have time. He never stayed gone shorter than an hour, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I hid my suitcase out in the field and my money fifteen steps from the left of it.
I quickly dug it all up, pulling out the zipped bag I had the money in. It was enough money to get me away from here, pay for any first and last on rent, and feed me for at least a month until I found work. I’d been saving since I started the job at the diner.
He knew.
He had to. He took it from me the first time. “You’re leaving me, aren’t you?”he’d say sometimes out of the blue. My heart would freeze in terror.
I never replied. I just continued doing whatever it was I was doing, hoping he wouldn’t press the matter. I see my eighteen-year-old self running out of the front door, suitcase in hand, butterflies in my stomach, and purpose in my step.
I had to walk a good way, but I didn’t care. I was leaving.
I was free.
Tears spring to my eyes, and I cover my mouth as a deep sadness washes over me.
A sadness for how my childhood should have been, how a teenage girl should have had her mother or at least a loving father to show her the way. Two people who didn’t deserve a child robbed me of that.
I showed myself the way.
And I wish I could tell that eighteen-year-old girl that it would be okay. That she was going to go through some shit still, but she’d come out stronger, and then she’d meet a man who would change everything.
I wipe my face with my hands and take in a breath before climbing out of my car. The cold wind hits my wet face, sending chills down my spine. I look at the old tree that’s been here longer than us. It has no leaves, just bare limbs covered in snow. My eyes wander to the side of the house where he always kept dogs. I’d go out and love on them sometimes and feed them leftovers from the diner. I wonder what happened to them after I left but decide I better not. He probably let them starve.
The field behind the house holds nothing but snow and memories now, and I shove my hands into my pockets and venture out there. Cold smoke blows from my mouth and nose, and my boots get wet as I walk past the house into the field.
I stop and gaze out. How weird it is to be back. How strange to know that he no longer lives here.
He no longer lives anywhere.
I look up to the sky and shut my eyes as small drips of freezing rain land on my face. It falls slowly, but then picks up, so I leave the field and walk up the steps as I pull out a key that the lawyer gave me. I unlock the door and push it open. It sticks a little, so I hit it with my shoulder, and it finally breaks free.
The smell hits me in the face like a ton of bricks. Cigarettes mixed with the past. Mold and Mildew. I cover my nose and walk over to the window to let some fresh air in. My finger flicks the light switch, but nothing comes on. Of course, no electricity.
Exhaling, I pull my scarf tighter as I stand at the threshold. I take in the dark room, seeing the outline of what I’m assuming is his chair and a couch where so many people sat and got high. I look to the left, seeing the bar, and past it, the kitchen.
I walk toward the kitchen, and from the window light, I take in dirty dishes sitting in the drainer. Wallpaper peels from the walls, and there’s a leak coming from the roof. For reasons I don’t know, I grab a bowl and place it under the dripping water. I should burn the place, rid the world of the nightmares that went on here.
My hands start to shake as I look down the hall to my room where my innocence was stolen. I close my eyes, swearing I can still hear the sound the box spring made underneath our bodies. I was just a kid.
“Just a fucking kid!” I scream as my fingers go to my hair and pull. My knees give and I hit the floor. I sob like a child until my body can’t take it anymore and I vomit. I cough and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, falling against the cabinets. I look down at the worn tile just as I hear a car pull up outside.
Rubbing my face, I stand and quietly walk over to the window.
A woman climbs out of a blue Nissan. I squint, not recognizing her.
But then she looks my way.
Her eyes narrow and then grow wide as her hand goes to her mouth.
And then I know.
It’s my mom.
To be continued…
