Page 138 of When There Was You
Our mouths meet in a desperate, healing kiss swirling with hope for all that we are—and can be.
Sixty-Five
Following the advice of counsel—the attorney Gus paid for on my behalf—I meet with police and file a formal report. A visit to the emergency room documents the damning thumb-shaped mark Don left on my neck.
In preparation for the attorneys filing a written complaint, I meticulously log a record outlining the harassment and provide a list of employees who might corroborate some of my claims.
The formal complaint asks for damages, financial compensation, a letter of recommendation, and the immediate dismissal of Don fucking Jennings. I’m hopeful. I may have lost my job, but he will not ruin me.
Butch convinces me to move out of Richmond and in with him. He’s worried about Don confronting me, or worse.
Do I mind living with the lumberjack, being under his protection (and under him, period)? No, I do not. Was I bolstered by Emmy’s enthusiastic response? “We’d be together every single day?”“Daddy will never be grumpy pants again!” Yes, I was.
As if all that weren’t amazing enough, Gus insists I start consulting on his magazine right away. He puts me on his payroll, saying it’s “easier this way,” but it seems like too much—he’s already footing the attorney bill. So, I work hard, digging in to comprehensively research his venture.
I’m energized by the excitement of creating something from scratch. Butch offers his spare bedroom for a makeshift office, and we add a desk, worktable, and large cork board, where my notes and plans begin taking shape.
Everything’s put in motion shockingly fast. I’m relieved to be out of the city. I’m more comfortable with the charming, engaging Hamilton family by the minute, and their enclave is a sanctuary with its towering oaks, babbling brook, and soothing landscape.
I’m wanted. Embraced. Safe. And my future holds real promise.
A month later,Don’s been fired, I have glowing letters of recommendation from senior management, my wrongful termination is termed a layoff, and I’m awarded some financial compensation in the form of back pay.
What sticks in my craw? There’s zero admission of wrongdoing or apology, and Iwasn’t“laid off.”
It’s the best deal the attorneys could negotiate, so I take it. They said these types of cases often drag on for months or years, but the police and hospital report scared them enough to ante up hush money.
Truthfully, my sanity demands putting it behind me. I don’t want to think about it anymore even if it’s not exactly what I wanted. I’m David and they’re Goliath, only I don’t topple them at all. I’m no more than a ripple in their ocean.
Butch finds me on the porch, leaning against the railing asEmmy chases after lightning bugs. Their brief flares of light pop in the twilight hour and I find them simply magical, never having seen them before moving here. He slides his arms around my waist and presses a kiss to my temple. I sink into his touch, my arms crossing over his.
“You doing alright?” he asks.
“Mm-hmm. Just glad it’s over.”
“I’d still like to kick his ass. That would give me the peace of mind I crave.”
I blow out a laugh. “Tempting, but no.” I don’t need Butch going to jail.
Emmy lets out a celebratory shriek as she catches two bugs in a canning jar. Butch poked air holes in the top so they can survive, but he’ll make her let them go in a while.
“I will never get over these wonders of nature,” I say. It does put life in perspective. No amount of Dons in the world can diminish the awe and magnitude of Mother Nature’s gifts.
“You’ve got to admit, it’s a clever mating system.”
“The good old, ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’?”
Butch chuckles, squeezing me tighter. “You can show me yours anytime. You know I’m happy to show you mine.”
I try to elbow him but he’s holding me too close.
“I’ve got a really cool thing we can go do right now if you’re up for it.”
Turning in his arms, I find his handsome face. “I’m up for it.”
“Em!” he calls. “C’mere. We’re all going on a little excursion.” He takes my hand and steers me toward the car.
“Is ice cream involved?” she asks.
