Page 43 of Don't Love Me
11
Ashleigh
I read Marc’s text as soon as I landed in Phoenix. There was a certain relief in knowing he hadn’t stood me up to hurt me, plus a sense of ease knowing he wasn’t hurt. I didn’t know what the series of fuck-ups were, and I’m not sure it mattered.
I got off the plane and made my way to the baggage carousel. There was a man in a suit holding a sign with my name on it. I got my suitcase, ignored the man, and made my way outside where I called an Uber.
It was petty, and maybe stupid, because it’s not like Arthur wouldn’t see the record on his credit card statement, although he wouldn’t necessarily know where I’d gone. Still, refusing his assigned driver felt like a rejection of him and that felt good.
I’d listened to him cry outside my door for hours last night, saying he was sorry. Then early this morning he’d knocked, and, since I knew I had to face him at some point, I opened the door.
“Did you use to hit my mother?”
It was the first thing I asked him, because it was the one thing I’d wanted to know as I lay in bed listening to him cry. It occurred to me it wasn’t a natural thing for a man to hit a woman. There was so much conditioning around the fact they were physically stronger and had to check that strength around women.
Violence toward women was a major social taboo, which, of course, a lot of men broke. But in my opinion, it wasn’t something a man did only once. If you were the kind of person who decided hitting someone else was okay, then you hit people. If you were a man who could kick your daughter while she was on the floor, then maybe you’d also done that before.
His face had gone white in that moment. I could almost see the age he tried so hard to hide fall over his face.
He swallowed and told me about a resort in Sedona instead. I didn’t know if he couldn’t answer because I’d shamed him horribly, or because he was guilty.
He told me a car was coming to pick me up. He’d booked a one-way flight to Phoenix. A driver would be waiting to take me to the resort. This would be good for me, he’d said. Good for us. His way of apologizing, while giving me the space I needed to find forgiveness.
All I heard was…away.
Where George wouldn’t see the bruise on my cheek. Where I couldn’t deal with Marc.
The Uber driver pulled up to the sidewalk and got out to open his trunk.
“It’s a six-hour drive,” I reminded him as he stuffed my suitcase into his trunk. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
Miguel, according to the app, simply smiled. “Yeah, I figure there’s got to be a hell of a tip in that for me. And I’ve got nothing to do today.”
I smiled back and got in the backseat. It felt like freedom. Arthur wanted me to go to Sedona. But I wanted to go somewhere else. Somewhere I chose.
It’s not like Arthur would even care.
“You know they have airports in San Diego,” Miguel said, smiling in his rearview mirror.
“I wanted to take the scenic route,” I said.
“Yeah, well, I hope you like the desert because that’s about all you’re going to see for a long time.”
I looked out the window at the vastness of the space and sky. Brown and flat as far as the eye could see. So different from green New Jersey, it felt like I was in another country.
“I love it,” I said.
Then I laid my head back against the seat, closed my eyes and wondered what came next.
I didn’t like that I was running away. George needed me. Marc needed me. Arthur, because that’s how I would refer to him in my head for the rest of my life, also needed me.
What he’d done was unforgiveable, but he’d been drunk. I couldn’t discount that his impairment had played a factor in his actions. Something had been off with him for months, I knew that. Was it just the alcohol, or whatever had driven him to the alcohol? If I was any kind of daughter, I would try to help him. I was the only family he had.
Right? .
Did he hit my mother? The thought whispered to me from the back of my brain, justifying my decision to walk away from an alcoholic or not.
It didn’t seem rational. He was older than her by almost twenty years. She’d been his second wife; he’d had no children with his first. I was fairly certain he didn’t want me at first, based on comments he’d made in the past about me being a sudden surprise.
