Blow(50)

My garage door opener was missing, and for some reason the button programmed into the vehicle hadn’t worked in weeks.

Feeling slightly panicky, I opened the glove compartment. It wasn’t there either. Maybe I’d stuffed it in my purse. After all, I did it all the time when I’d take Clementine for walks. I reached for my bag and realized it wasn’t the same purse I’d used this week. That one I’d left behind at the boutique.

Clementine had fallen asleep in her car seat and I wanted to get her in her crib and avoid the cold while doing so.

To be certain the repair shop hadn’t moved it, I lifted the center console lid and rummaged through it.

Something sparkled.

My eyes dipped down and I reached inside. When I picked the charm up, my fingers trembled. Sucking in a breath, I pinched the silver and turned it around. But I didn’t need to. The glistening of the small speck of a diamond was all I needed to see to know for certain. Still, I read the inscription anyway.

It was the charm from the bracelet my sister had given me for my tenth birthday. The same one I threw at her the day she left.

My heart stilled as the memory flooded me and I tried to hold back the tears.



“Happy birthday,” my mother and sister sang as the candles flamed before me.

Just as I was blowing them out, the door swung open and my father strode in. I froze in mid-blow, but the candles went out anyway.

Traitors.

His eyes darted to my mother. “You couldn’t wait?”

“It’s almost ten, Henry, and the girls have school tomorrow.”

He disarmed and left his gun on the counter where he always did. We were living in Germany at the time and since we’d just arrived, we didn’t really know anyone, so we had no one to invite to my party.

Not that we ever would have invited anyone anyway.

“Let’s eat the cake,” he said, more jovial than he’d been in a long time.

My mother smiled at him and started cutting it.

It was strange; I felt like we were a family. That didn’t happen often.

My father moved closer to the table and gave her a kiss. “Did you give Gabby her present?” he asked my mother excitedly.

She sniffed him and twisted her head. “No, not yet. Where have you been?”

His demeanor changed instantly. “I told you, I had a meeting. Now let me give Gabby her present. Where did you hide it?”

My mother looked upset. “It’s in my purse. I’ll get it in a moment.”

As my mother was cutting the cake, my father disappeared into the mudroom, where my mother always hung her purse.

Everything had a place in our house.

My mother gave me the first piece and then turned around to hand my father a slice, but he hadn’t returned yet. I guess she never realized he’d left the room. “Henry?”

“He went to get my present, Mommy,” I said excitedly.

There was a growl-like sound from the mudroom. “Susan!”

My mother paled right before us.

A thud had us all jumping.

“What’s the matter, Mommy?” Lizzy asked.

She set the cake down. “Go to your room, girls.”

“But Mommy, I haven’t finished my cake or opened my present.”

Lizzy stood and tugged on my nightgown. “Come on, Gabby.”

I shook my head.

My father appeared in the doorway holding a round, pink compact in his hand. His eyes were dark and his demeanor was now terrifying.

“Go, girls,” my mother said, beckoning us. “Now.”

Lizzy pulled me along and I went, but my eyes never left his.

“Susan,” he said again, even more sternly.

“I can explain, Henry.”

Before I was out of the kitchen doorway, I saw him take the handle of his gun and start pounding on the compact. Small pills were being crushed. I watched him, and then he glanced up and saw me. “You are supposed to be in your room,” he barked, and took a step toward me with his hands on his belt.

“No, Henry. No!” my mother yelled.

My sister pulled me harder and I followed her. With each step I could hear my father behind me.

As soon as she closed our door, he locked it.

He locked us in.

“Susan!” he yelled.

I heard her patter down the hallway. “Henry, we need to talk about this.”

“How long?”

There wasn’t an answer.

“How long have you been taking birth control pills?”

“Not as long as it took you to find another whore,” she spat.

His laugh was wicked. “I wouldn’t have to seek * elsewhere if you’d let me inside you when I need you. But that’s about to change right now, Susan. No more options for you. Now tell me, how long?”

My mother was whispering and I couldn’t hear her.

“My house. My rules. Get to our room, now!”

“Henry, we need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m going to have to punish you. I can’t let this go. You’re deliberately keeping something from me that I really want. What kind of wife does that to her husband?”

Even my sister had sat on her bed and was listening. We were both scared. We’d been punished with his belt a few times. Would he do that to our mother?