Page 79 of Stay Away from Him

Hey lady! Want to meet up for an afternoon drink before the kids get home from school?

It was Kelli. I didn’t want to see her, and the last thing I needed was an afternoon drink, after how much I’d already had—but in my shame, I thought that if I managed to get myself out of bed, if I showered and put real clothes on, then the day wouldn’t be a total waste. That if I could claw myself to this one pitiful piece of normal functioning, there was hope for me to get all the way back to the way I’d felt the night before, when I thought I could see all the way from this hell I was living in to the bearable life I wanted.

I skipped the shower but managed to get some nice clothes on, ran my fingers through my hair, then got into the car. Behind the wheel, I realized I was still a little drunk—not as bad as I’d been a couple hours before but probably still too drunk to drive. But I backed the car out of the driveway anyway and then headed off down the road, concentrating hard to keep from drifting.

I’d barely made it a quarter mile when I saw the black car driving up tight at my back bumper, the police lights flashing on the dashboard. I panicked and almost swerved right off the road, hit my brakes too hard, but somehow managed to pull to the shoulder.

The man who climbed out of the car was in plainclothes, blue jeans and a navy polo. The car was unmarked.

“You had something to drink today, ma’am?”

I looked up at him, his face of angry authority wearing all the disapproval and contempt I felt for myself. Reflecting it back to me.

And I burst into tears.

I swear they were genuine. I wasn’t trying to manipulate my way out of a DUI. It was all just too much—Thomas’s hatred toward me, my hatred toward myself. The cop’s reflexive judgment against me: a lawbreaker, a drunk driver. And imagining everything that would happen next. Would I go to a holding cell? Would Thomas have to bail me out? Would there be a mug shot, a court appearance? I was only sitting in a parked car on the side of a quiet suburban road, but I felt as though the eyes of the whole world were turning to me in judgment.

I went on crying for a few minutes, looking at my lap, then glanced up again at the cop and saw his face transformed from disapproval to sympathy. There even seemed to be some guilt there, for being the one to make me cry.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I know this is bad—I fucked up. I’m a fuckup.”

“Hey,” the cop said, his voice quiet now. He reached his hand through the window and set it on my shoulder. “You don’t have to say things like that about yourself. You made a mistake.”

“My whole life is one big mistake,” I said.

The cop squinted, looked up and down the road.

“Where are you coming from?” he asked.

I told him my address.

“Tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t you just turn around and go home. I’ll follow you to make sure you get there safe. And we can both forget this happened.”

I’d be standing Kelli up, but it was better than going to jail.

“Really?” I said.

“Sure,” he said. “I’m not really a traffic cop anyway. I’m an investigator.”

“An investigator?”

“A detective,” he said. “I was out taking some witness statements on a domestic disturbance when I saw you pass by. I don’t want to give you a DUI. I just want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

I smiled. “Thank you, officer,” I said, my gratitude real, not feigned. I found myself noticing how handsome he was, the kindness in his eyes. Not like Thomas, whose superficial kindness masked contempt.

I drove home, and the cop followed me, just as he said. I put the car in the garage and then went into the house. I heard a knock on the door. It was the cop again.

“You change your mind about giving me that DUI?”

He shook his head. “No harm, no foul. I just wanted to ask—well, I’m not sure what I wanted to ask.”

He let out a little laugh and looked at his shoes. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I realized that I was making him flustered. I wondered if he might be attracted to me. It had been so long since anyone had found me beautiful, I’d forgotten what it was like, no longer knew the signs.

“Are you okay, I guess is what I wanted to ask.”

I shook my head, smiled. “No. Is anyone?”

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