That was about three years ago. I remember walking to my car, head held high. I kept it together until I got to Hope's Advocate. I started falling apart as I walked into the residential area. I was soon surrounded by women- some homeless, some abused, some there for the first time. All of them virtual strangers to me, all of them with a story. And they sat with me and handed me tissues- hands rubbing my back, hugs when I was ready. No one asked any questions- they knew better. You don't need more questions in those moments.
Dottie came by- she had been waiting for me. She came in the room, and politely asked everyone to give us a moment alone. All she said was, "I want you to tell me everything, but not until you're ready.
Everything
, Gina, I mean it. You're a terrible liar, God bless you, and I know you've been hiding something from me. For now, you settle in, then get to work. There's plenty of tears to go around."
A week or so later, I did tell her everything. Really everything, but only after swearing her to secrecy. She almost seemed offended that I would need to do that, "Don't you see the world I work with? Could I still be here if I ran my lips? There's nothing you can tell me that I haven't heard before, Gina." But after hearing about Andrew and our arrangement, and Penny and Noel and Gareth and Ian and Tristan and Angelica...She sat back, eyes wide, and said, "OK, there was some new stuff there, congratulations." But she kept her word and never told a soul.
She helped me process a lot of what had gone on in those three months with Andrew. She didn't seemed upset about the arrangement- she called it "creative," once she was assured I was never forced into it. She also gave me her opinion that I had made the right call in the end, even if I had made some "dumb-as-shit calls" (her words, not mine) along the way.
Hearing about my story with Gareth and his insistence that I get an abortion, and about the botched job that may have ruled child-bearing out of my future, Dottie suggested two things: First, that I give her Gareth's address and let her go cut off his balls; and second, that I start spending time counseling women at the crisis pregnancy center. During training for that, I realized how poorly the clinic I went to had handled preparing me for the physical and emotional trauma of an abortion, especially the long-term emotional effects.
It turns out I was pretty good at working with those women, although in most cases I would say, those 'girls.' So young and scared, making such big decisions. I tried to walk them through all their options and to offer hope for them and for their children.
*******
In the summer, I got an email from Andrew. It was short. He praised the meal service and housecleaning services I had arranged for him, which delighted the ladies when I told them. He reaffirmed his love for me. But he also mentioned that Penny was taking part in a clinical trial for a new drug, and it was having some really promising results. She had a few good days now and then and had even had a sane conversation with Andrew. If they continued seeing success after six months, the trial would fund a live-in nurse to be with Penny while they tried to re-assimilate her into her home. Andrew wrote,
I don't have any hope that she will ever again be the Penny I once knew, but she may be able to get to the point where she doesn't need to be institutionalized and constantly supervised. It would be a vastly improved quality of life for her. As much as I hate not having you with me, you made the right decision, for Penny's sake.
He sent a few other emails now and then, reminding me of his love and telling me the door was open when I was ready. And though I read them each over and over, I never let myself reply. It would be too easy to go rushing back into his life, tearing apart whatever delicate peace they had worked to attain.
*******
When November came, I thought of visiting Andrew, but Dottie wisely counseled me not to open that door. No good would come of it, she assured me, only pain. "What you need, and what he needs, is to heal." But I did really miss my recliner. And I still loved Andrew.
*******
And so life went on. I learned a lot. Dottie began unabashedly grooming me to take her job somewhere down the road. "No hurry, hun. There's a lot of miles left on this jalopy. But when the time comes, I want you ready. Plus, I haven't had a vacation in six years!" I was good at my job. And Dottie was right, love followed commitment. I entered the shelter thinking it was a good cause. But once I started working there, it got into my veins and I was passionate about it. Dottie started sending me out to speak at fund-raising dinners. I was good at making factual, business-like presentations. Instead of trying to tug the heart-strings, I was showing how our work was not only changing lives (like every charity does) but was changing the system that was causing the problems. Now
that
was worth investing in.
*******
The next May, a year and a half after I had broken my arrangement with Andrew, Dottie asked me, "So when are you going to deal with Ian?" By that time, Dottie had earned the right to ask such a question. She knew that June was the anniversary of his death, and she knew I still hadn't talked to my parents in over 2 years. I told her I wasn't sure I could do that yet, but she pushed and pushed until a few weeks later I did something stupid. I contacted Andrew.
Using the smart phone Dottie had required me to buy for work, I simply texted him a set of coordinates and asked him if he could meet me there the next Saturday at noon, but if not, I would understand. I didn't hear back from him.
*******
That next Saturday, I was at Ian's grave on the anniversary of his death. The fresh flowers told me that my parents had already been there. It was 11am on a bright day in June. I told him all about my new life. I shared my fears and worries. At 11:30, a figure who, since I had gotten there, had been sitting on a bench a hundred yards away stood up and walked towards me. Andrew.
He looked older, careworn, tired. But he smiled to see me, and we leaned in for an awkward side hug. Looking down at the tombstone in front of us, he said, "So this is Ian?"
"Yeah." Without comment, I took his hand in mine and told him about Ian's accident. I told him about the recliner and the stars. I told him about my parents and their emotional absence after that day. I told him how that loss had crippled me, made me afraid to be close to a man ever again. I stopped every now and then to cry. Andrew had brought tissues. He never spoke, just held my hand and listened. I told Andrew that I needed to see my parents and finally talk to them. I told him that he had helped me to see how broken I was, how broken they were, and how much we needed each other. I told him that I was so sorry I had asked him to drive all the way up here, but that I thought just seeing
him
would give me the courage to see
them
. And I owed him the story, because it had affected how I treated him. And he he still had Ian's recliner. He offered to go with me to my parents' house. I thanked him but said no.
I asked how Penny was doing and he looked away. Then looking back, he said, "I didn't know what to expect today, Gina. I'm staying at a hotel off the interstate, I wasn't sure if you needed help or something this weekend. When you're ready, if you want, let's meet up after you talk with your parents. We can catch up then. You don't need me to distract you right now." It was a little terse and controlled, but not angry.
"I'd like that," I said softly.
"Me too."
*******
I drove to my parents house and surprised them. We had a long conversation that was sometimes loud, sometimes teary, and mostly very, very good. I owned up to a lot of the stupid things I had said and done, and they even apologized for some things, which meant a lot to me. There was still a lot of hurt on both sides, but at least now the door was open to deal with those things. They expected me to stay, but I told them I couldn't. We arranged for me to come back up in a few weeks and stay longer. I genuinely looked forward to it.
I left before dinner and called Andrew, arranging to meet near his hotel for a meal.
Andrew and I had never been out together. This was our first, well, not a date, but our first...time out together. He asked about my time with my parents and he listened with his usual patience. I cried a little and he had some good advice, even. As we finished covering that ground, I was going to ask about Penny again, when Andrew said, "Did you get any of my emails?"
It only then occurred to me that he didn't know I had read them, how I treasured them, how I had printed them out in case I somehow lost the emails. For all he knew I had left his house and completely shut him out of my life until this week. I felt like a horrible person. My instinct was to justify my behavior-
Yes, I had received them, but I didn't want to lead you on. I didn't want to nurture something that couldn't be.
But Dottie had been training me not to justify my mistakes but to instead apologize and fix them. So I tried that, and Andrew appreciated it.
"So you knew that Penny was in the clinical trial?" he asked.
"Yeah, and last time I heard from you, she had been back with you for a few weeks. It seemed like she was starting to assimilate back into your home, with nurses supervising?"
"Yeah, that was in September." He cleared his throat.
