Dinner in the park

     She, Della, and Stella buzzed around like bees. It gave her plenty to do so she didn’t think about the speech. Dillon and Bradley showed up as others were getting their food. Dillon pulled her aside, “are you okay?”

     “Nervous.”

     “I’m right here.”

     She blushed, “thank you.”

     As everyone was eating, Povol got up. She thanked everyone for coming. Was impressed with the size of this year’s crowd. Explained that October was domestic violence awareness month and gave an overview of what d.v. was. Thanked law enforcement from the officers to court house staff for doing such a fine job. Then she explained about the victim speaker. Silence filled the park as she introduced Evelyn. 

     As she walked to the steps of the small stage, she knew Dillon had an idea. He had read reports, saw pictures. Her dad had visited her once while she was in the hospital but didn’t know much. This wasn’t going to be fun for anyone. Povol gave her a great big hug and handed her the microphone. She accepted it and sat on the top step of the stage. 

     Her voice cracked as she said hello. She cleared her throat, “hi. As most of you know, I’m Jack’s daughter.” She decided to focus on Dillon; instead of weaving her attention on different members of the crowd. “Some teenagers are encouraged by school officials, parents (not mine),” She smiled. “Mom and dad would’ve been just as happy if I’d stayed in Sunshine Valley. They are encouraged to go off to school, learn all you can. Grab Atlas by the balls and hold on tight. Get a good job. Well, I did those things: got a good education. Good job. Got married. Together, we were kickin’ the world’s ass. We had the big house. The nice cars. We went on lavish vacations. I was able to fly my parents out for my wedding. So, my ex knew my family. Knew where I was from. It was never a secret. My parents had a good marriage. Though my relationship with my mother was tumultuous. I’ve since learned a lot of teenage girls go through that phase. I had no idea what domestic violence was. That happens to other people.” Povol brought her a bottle of water. She mouthed thank you and took a drink. “I have worked from home long before working from home was popular. Had an office set up in the basement. One evening, I came home from work, as it were. My ex was watching football. I decided not to disturb him. So I took a shower. When I came out of the bathroom, most of you know how we’re dressed. Wrapped up in a towel. Hair is in a towel. He ripped the towel off my head, drug me through the house by my hair and tied me to the foot of the bed. I stayed like that for a month. Dad got to missing me and called in a wellness check. That’s how I was found the first time. During that month, he sold my horse. Riding was amazing. And I was good at it. That was the first thing to go. We did okay for about 6 months.” She paused, “not okay. Someone asked, ‘why didn’t you leave’? Since we didn’t have any children and he had sold my horse, he threatened to have my dad killed. After that ‘I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again period. Or honeymoon phase.’ I paid for it dearly, he beat me so badly, that he got scared and took me to the e.r. Not for my sake but because he was afraid he’d gone too far. Even told police that. He said that we had gotten into a verbal altercation, it escalated, then he lost control. Some asked, ‘why didn’t you tell the e.r. staff you were in trouble’? He never left me. And from that point on, was always in control. I’m not going to go into the messy details, overall I was taken to the e.r. 6 times. Again, I was asked, ‘why didn’t you run’? I knew him well enough to know that all he had to do was make a call and he would have killed my dad. As a child, could you live with that kind of guilt? Each time I was taken to the e.r., I was at deaths door. My ex locked me in a closet and was for the most part starving me to death. Had it not been for the bravery of my dad, I wouldn’t be here. For,” Evie stopped, thinking. “Untold years, he fought the power of money for my life. Right now, my ex is in prison. He shot a cop. I’m using this time to try to put back as much of my life as I can. Thanks to amazing people, I have a strong support system. Domestic violence doesn’t care if you are rich or poor. What your ethnic background is. What school you went to. It doesn’t care if you’re a doctor, lawyer, or a fry cook. It doesn’t discriminate. It blacks eyes, breaks bones, breaks your spirit and crushes your soul. Threatens your very existence and the existence of the people you love.” 

October 

     Dillon put his arms around Evie. She planted a soft kiss on his lips. “I’m worried about you and this dinner.” She scooted as close to him as she could get. 

     “Your concern is appreciated.” She set up. Dillon was lounging on the pillows. She rested her hands on his stomach, “I’m not good at saying ‘love stuff’. I’m more of a show-er. When you leave in the mornin’ and I say, ‘go save lives lawman. First and foremost being your own’, I pray you know that I’m saying I love you.” She cringed that the words as they left her mouth. They sounded weak. Stupid. Less than words to her ears. 

     He caressed her cheek, raising her chin slightly, “we can learn together.”

     Tears streamed down her face, “I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

     “Disappointed?”

     “I have no other word for me.”

     “Come back here.” He guided her head to his shoulder. When she was settled, he kissed her on the forehead. “When you don’t have, or can’t say the words, feel free to show me.”

     Evie hadn’t been able to go back to church. Pastor Sam hadn’t tried to reach back out to her. She had been watching the services through a local t.v. station and he looked sadder than usual. The sermon this Sunday was about domestic violence leading up to dinner in the park. 

     Dillon had gone to work. Leaving her to second guess her decision to speak. Some experts thought that 5 years was the magic number of years to heal. Before that, the experience was too new. And you were in no shape to help other victims. While others argued, you never got over the trauma. 

     She suspected more people would be at this dinner than if it was at someone’s house. Povol (with good reason) didn’t want it at the shelter. ‘Dear God,’ she prayed. ‘Let me do the right thing. Say the right words.’

Mr. Smith?

     A few night creatures started their calls to nature. An owl off in the distance serenaded the moon. A few crickets join in with their chorus. 

     Evie finally broke the rhythm of nature, “were you ever married?”

     “No.” She sighed. “Too busy with maw n paw. Couldn’t get close ‘nough.” She patted the rifle next to her. “Leonard n me.”

     “You’re purdy handy with that broom.” Dillon remarked. 

     She laughed, a deep, free laugh. Her whole body shook. It reminded Evie of what laughing must be like for Santa. “Teach u to sneak up on an ole woman.”

     “Wasn’t trying to scare you.” Dillon said. 

     “Oh,” she pointed at him. “Should’a saw the look on your face. You ran like a rabbit.”

     He just sighed, “yeah.”

     Evie made a mental note of his lack of enthusiasm regarding this subject. It crossed her mind that he had been beaten with a broom before? Suddenly, she remembered, one evening she and her dad found him curled up at the bottom step of their back porch. For whatever reason, her mom wasn’t there. She had helped her dad care for him. His arms and legs were black and blue. There was a few whelk marks on his back. It was remarkable that he didn’t have a broken bone. Or 5. 

     Evie just watched him. It seemed to her he was thinking about that same thing. When she looked at Smith, she was watchin’ them both. 

     “You hadn’t been born yet,” Smith started talking. “Coral was a bad seed even back yunder. He’d pull my hair. Take sticks and lift up my dress tail. Had this coat, last thing paw bought me. He lit it ah fire with me in it.” She cleared her throat. “Beat his ass over that. He spit blood rest of day. Got n trouble by teach. Never went back.” She locked eyes with Dillon, “sorry didn’t teach him his lesson.”

     Evie hugged up her knees, “who was the Mr. Smith that got away?”

     Smith sucked air through her teeth and just sighed. 

Smith

     “Hi Smith.” Dillon smiled at Evie.

     Evie heard the sound of spitting. “I guess that be y we just keep lectin’ you?”

     “What did you think of the show?” Dillon asked. 

     “Waitin’ on ‘nother show.” She spat.

     Evie leaned up, “what other show?”

     “Spect he’d ask fur your hand.” She spat. “Weddin’s make me cry.”

     “Done did.” Evie held up her hand, the ring sparkled in the moon light.

     She spat, “when u tiein’ the knot?”

     “Now, if she’d let me.” Dillon teased. 

     “U not gitten’ yunger. What ‘bout babies?”

     Evie blushed, “I’m a little long in the tooth to be poppin’ out babies.”

      Smith spat, “maw was 55 when she had me. Thought she was done with the change n all.” She spat, laughing, “one more bun in the oven.”

     “She was a better woman than me.” 

     “Evie brought some snacks. Wanna join us?”

     She spat, “snacks?”

    Dillon helped Evie out of the back of the truck. It was then she noticed the shotgun draped over Smith’s arm. They spread out the blanket to sit on. Makin’ sure not to put it in Smith’s chaw juice. Remarkably they didn’t see any. Dillon handed her the basket and she sat with her back against a tire. Dillon sat beside her. Smith spat before she sat across from them. 

     Evie spoke as she emptied the basket, “I tried to cut out a shooting star but the tail fell off.” The sandwich she handed to Smith was in the shape of a star. She pulled out a full moon and a crescent moon. “I tried to make them festive. We have some nabs, some chocolate, nuts and hot chocolate.” Dillon held a cup while Evie poured, passin’ it over to Smith.

     “Milk or water,” Smith asked?

     “Milk?” Evie answered. 

     Smith nodded at Dillon, “a keeper this one.”

     Dillon kissed the top of her hand, “I know.”