Reminders of Him

I’m so close. All that separates us is a street. An empty street with no
traffic.
It’s clear to me what’s going to happen next. Patrick and Grace want
nothing to do with me, to the point Ledger knew to intercept my arrival.
This means there won’t be any negotiating. The forgiveness I was hoping
had found its way to them never made it here.
They still hate me.
Apparently, so does everyone else in their lives.
The only way I’m going to be able to see my daughter is if, by some
miracle, I can take it through the court system, and that’s going to take
money I don’t yet have and years I can’t bear the thought of passing by. I’ve
already missed so much.
If I want to see Diem at all, ever, this is my only chance. If I want the
opportunity to beg Scotty’s parents for forgiveness, it’s now or never.
Now or never.
Ledger probably won’t notice I’m not following him to his garage for
another ten seconds, at least. I might make it before he catches up to me.
I slip outside and run as fast as I can across the street.
I’m in their yard.
My feet are sprinting across grass Diem has played on.
I’m beating on their front door.
I’m ringing their doorbell.
I’m trying to look through the window to get a glimpse of her.
“Please,” I whisper, knocking harder. My whisper turns into panic as I
hear Ledger approaching me from behind. “I’m sorry!” I yell, beating on
the door. My voice is a fearful plea now. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please let me
see her!”
I’m being pulled, and then carried, back to the house across the street.
Even through my struggle to get out of his arms, I’m staring at that front
door as it gets smaller and smaller, hoping for even a half-second glimpse
of my little girl.

---

I don’t see any movement at all in their house before I’m no longer
outside. I’m back inside Ledger’s house, being dropped onto his couch.
He’s holding his phone, pacing his living room as he dials a phone
number. It’s only three digits. He’s calling the police.
I panic. “No.” Plead. “No, no, no.” I lunge across his living room in
an attempt to grab at his phone, but he just puts a hand on my shoulder and
steers me back to the couch.
I sit down and bury my elbows into my knees, bringing my fingers to
a shaky point against my mouth. “Please don’t call the police. Please.” I sit
still, wanting to appear unthreatening, hoping he just looks me in the eye
long enough to feel my pain.
His eyes meet mine just as tears begin to fall down my cheeks. He
pauses before completing the call. He stares me down . . . studying me.
Searching my face for a promise.
“I won’t come back.” If he calls the police, this will not look good for
me. I can’t have anything added to my record, even though I’ve broken no
laws that I know of. But just being here unwanted is enough of a mark
against me.
He takes a step closer. “You cannot come back here. Swear to me
we’ll never see you again, or I’ll call the police right now.”
I can’t. I can’t promise him that. What else is there in my life other
than my daughter? She’s all I have. She’s why I’m still alive.
This can’t be happening.
“Please,” I cry, not knowing what I’m even begging for. I just want
someone to listen to me. To hear me out. To understand how much I’m
suffering. I want him to be the man I met in the bar last night. I want him to
pull me to his chest, to make me feel like I have an ally. I want him to tell
me it’s going to be okay, even though I know with everything in me that it
will never, ever be okay.
The next several minutes are a defeated blur. I’m a mess of emotions.
I get into Ledger’s truck, and he drives me away from the
neighborhood my daughter has been raised in her whole life. I’m finally in
the same town as her after all these years, but I’ve never felt farther away
from her than I do in this moment.
I press my forehead to the passenger window and I close my eyes,
wishing I could start over from the beginning.

---

The very beginning.