We left Dairy Queen. I had worn heels to work of course and
was trudging alongside Helena on top of 4 inch shooties back toward the garage
where she’d left her car for the oil change.
I had cried all my makeup off and dug through my purse as we walked looking
for a hair clip. I scraped up my hair and untucked my shirt. It was 1:30 in the afternoon and I still had
mountains to climb. I peered over at
Helena’s slight frame. She was short and tiny, built like a 12 year old boy
really, but she exuded power and strength and I was so glad she was there in
that moment.
I was still sniffling from my good long embarrassing cry and
she reached over and patted me on the arm, “We’ll figure it out, you know we
will.”
I looked down at the ground and said, “There’s just so much
to figure out. I can’t stay there. I won’t
stay there and Harlow’s in school and I have no car. I mean it’s just
overwhelming at the moment.”
We reached the garage and Helena went inside and came back
out to tell me it would still be a little longer. We sat on the hitching post bar in front of
the tiny garage and I slumped. She gave me a cigarette out of her pack and we
lit up and puffed. We sat there side by side in silence smoking and contemplating.
After what seemed a long while, she suddenly said, “Look, I’m
not here to tell you what to do but I say we go figure out what’s up with your
car, then we get Harlow picked up from school and get some supper. On the way
back to your house, we’ll get some boxes and start packing and you can come and
stay with me and your brother for as long as it takes to get you straight.”
Millions of thoughts scattered through my brain as I tried
to put it all to rights in my head. I looked at her and asked, “Don’t you think
you should ask Wayne first?”
She shrugged, “Nah. What’s he gonna say? No? He’s not even home anyway and not due back
for 3 or 4 months. Chances are you’ll be
all good and ready to go by then. You got
income tax coming, yes?”
I nodded and she continued, “Well there you go. You can just pay whatever’s extra on the
utilities and help with groceries and save the rest to get yourself straight
and with your income tax, you ought to be right as rain in 4 months tops.”
I almost started crying again and she could sense it. She changed the subject and began telling me
we would be on the edge of the school district and Harlow could go to the “good”
school. I thought about my candy girl
then and wondered how she’d take all this.
I thought about telling Freddy and how happy he’d be that there was no
more Tucker. Then I thought of Tucker.
Locked up and safely gone from my life…maybe I could do this.
We got her car and went to the impound lot. It was an auto parts store with a lot in the
back and I could see the loaner car the dealership had given me when I pulled
up, locked safely behind the chain link and barbed wire. Getting
my car out of law enforcement initiated impound ought to be easy and cheap…
said no one ever.
I went in and up to the counter and said what sounded
unbelievable to my own ears and made me feel like trash, “My husband was
arrested and you impounded my car.”
The man asked for my name and then rudely told me that there
were no cars registered to me on the property.
“I know that but it’s a loaner from the dealership while
they work on my car.”
He cocked an eyebrow and said, “Well then the dealership is
going to have to authorize you to get it in writing or send someone after it.”
My heart sank but I quickly asked, “How much is the charge?” He went through an itemized spiel about each and every
charge and I’m thinking, just bottom line
it dickhole.
“Grand total is $293.38.” He sounded so pleased with
himself. I told him I needed to make
some phone calls and he looked very unimpressed.
I called first, my stepmother. “Hey.” I began tentatively.
She heard the apprehension and panic in the one word I’d
uttered and her answer was as tentative as mine, “Hey.”
“Um, Tucker’s been arrested.
He was writing payroll checks to himself on my old ranch account and he’s
locked up until at least Tuesday. They
took the car and impounded it and I have no money to get it out. Helena’s going to help me move out but first
we have to get the car situation taken care of.
Can I borrow the money until my next check or until the next one or
income tax or something so I can do this?”
I don’t remember exactly everything but I do know that the
fact that I was willing to leave Tucker loosened the purse strings on the other
end. She gave them her credit card
number over the phone to pay the impound fee and then I had to call the car
lot.
They were wonderful to me.
They had dealings with Tucker previously on his repossessed truck and
none of them liked him. They sent a worker
over with a car and a statement. He
picked up the loaner, gave me the keys to the car he was driving and he, Helena
and I all caravanned back to town to the dealership.
The owner of the local lot and about 5 more in the surrounding
areas happened to be there that day. He
was slightly shorter than me in my heels, muscle bound and completely
bald. He looked a little scary but came
right up as we arrived and shook my hand.
He said, “The next time this happens, I don’t want it to be my problem.
I want it to be yours, so we’re going to get you into something today.”
I smiled and told him he could rest assured that this
particular problem would not be happening again. He smiled and loaded up in his
truck and left. What followed was 4 ½ hours of paperwork and waiting and test
driving and just general tortures. I was
standing outside and calling Harlow to tell her to go to the neighbors’ until I
could get home when the phone signaled an incoming call. When I looked at the number, I knew. I knew it was him.
I told Harlow I’d check in with her later and I clicked
over. “Hello.”
“Oh baby!! Are you okay? I was so scared but it’s gonna be
alright, I need you to call…”
I cut him off. “You NEED me to call? You NEED me to do
what?! No I’m not okay and what the fuck is wrong with you? You can’t possibly think that only months
after getting me out of the last mess you got me into that I’d be fine with you
potentially getting me into an even bigger one?”
“Baby, I’m so sorry, I told them you had nothing to do with
it. They know it was all me. This can be
all fixed and I can get out of here if you...”
I stopped him again. “Do you have any idea what I’m doing
right now?”
“No.”
“I’m standing outside the car dealership trying to figure
out what they’re going to do about getting me something to drive that they don’t
have to worry with the next time it’s impounded. I’m trying to figure out how to pay bills and
rent and food for my daughter with the negative 2 bucks you’ve left in my
account and the whopping 2 dollars in my purse.
I’m trying to figure out how clear out of this cluster fuck of a
situation. I’m not real worried about what YOU need me to do right now. You can rot where you are for all I care.”
And I hung up.
I was shaking. I hadn’t really committed to leaving him high
and dry before, not ever and here I was doing it.
He called back several times over the course of that visit
to the car lot. By the time I drove out
with my “new” truck, I had just silenced my phone. Helena went home and promised to be over the
next day with my brother’s truck to help me pack.
I called Harlow and check on her and drove home and dragged
myself into the shower and crawled into bed, our empty bed. He wasn’t going to be sleeping beside me any
longer. I was alone again, really
alone. No more sex I didn’t want. No more sex I DID want. No more bad. No more
good from him. No more of any of
it. I knew it, I felt it. I started crying again but this time it was
not the silent humiliation in the Dairy Queen. I was glad Harlow wasn’t home
because it was out and out wracking sobs.
You never know when the last time will turn out to be the last time
until it just is.
