The Dark Light of Day
Page 72
Jake had assumed the worst of me, and with that assumption he revealed that we didn’t have what I thought we did. He didn’t love me the way I loved him. As far as he was concerned, it was all or nothing.
I promised myself I’d push all thoughts of Jake out of my mind, in hopes of pushing him from my heart.
Yeah, right.
Even I didn’t think that was going to happen. In time, I hoped he would become just a distant memory. Now, though, his memory was so strong, if I allowed it just a moment to occupy my mind, it consumed me. I closed my eyes and could still feel his breath on my cheek, his skin on my skin. I would never again be able to let myself be as free as I was with him. That girl was gone.
Survivor Abby had returned, boundaries and walls firmly back in place.
Choosing the comfort of being numb over the pain of heartbreak.
On what was to be my third night of sleeping in the Chevy, I climbed in through the driver’s side door and plopped myself down on the bench seat to get some much-needed sleep. I’d spent the entire day walking up and down the island looking for work and was just drifting off when I heard something jingle. There in front of me, reflecting the light of the full moon, was a key ring with two small gold keys and a large silver Ford emblem key chain hanging from it. The keys were attached to the steering wheel by a large janitor-style hook. A Dunn’s Auto Repair sticky note was attached to the center of the wheel. The note on it appeared to be written by a child:
abby
the apartment is urs fer as long as you need. yu can use the truck too it needs to be run ery once in a while and settin in the lot aint doin it no good. I dont no what happened with jake and I dont care but I know he dont want you sleeping in the fucking truck like a dam hobo. reggie is pissed you aint showed up fer work so be there in the morn. sorry about the punching ur face thing. Im a drunk asshole most of the time.
sorry again.
frank dunn
Tears stung the back of my eyes. Despite the fact that he’d called me a hobo, it was by far the greatest note I had ever received. I held the necklace Jake gave me in between my fingers, as it had become my nature to do when I was thinking. It would be my constant reminder he wasn’t just a dream.
It had certainly felt like one, though.
I hadn’t even been sure that Frank remembered who I was, especially under the circumstances of our first encounter. But there I was, reading his offer of salvation.
The Dunn men may have seen themselves as being worlds apart in every way, but when it really came down to it, both men were deeply troubled by pasts they’d rather forget, and they both had laid themselves on the line for me when I really needed it.
Selflessly. Easily.
It was in these acts of kindness that I saw the similarities in them for the first time.
I laughed to myself because Jake would shit a brick if I ever told him that he and the man he hated most were in any way similar.
Mr. Dunn had just offered me the chance to save money and have a place to stay when the baby came.
The baby...
I didn’t know if I would be a good mom, or if I would even be able to be one at all under the circumstances. But when it came right down to it, I couldn’t bring myself to kill someone who didn’t even know they were the product of a hateful act, especially after he or she had been created despite the horrible condition my body was in. This baby was a fighter, a survivor like me.
We were already kindred spirits.
It was because of, not in spite of, the life growing inside me that I was able to move forward, a little at a time.
I had the chance to have a real family, for the first time in my life.
I was going to try my damnedest to protect it.
FOUR YEARS LATER…
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
IT WAS SEPTEMBER WHEN MR. DUNN’S already weak body gave out and was crushed under the heavy weight of his addictions.
Leave it to the people of Coral Pines to turn what should have been a small simple service into an event that could rival their annual mullet-toss festival.
Every meddling church lady and bored husband within twenty miles dressed to the nines to pay their “respects” to a man they didn’t really know, and certainly didn’t respect.
A group of chatting woman smiled and laughed on the top step of the church before the service started. They all clutched handkerchiefs as if letting everyone know they were capable of springing a leak at any moment. Although a lot of people had cared about my Nan, more people had come to her service as an excuse to finally dust off their best mourning outfits and compete in a Who’s Sadder competition than to celebrate her life.
This felt just like that had.
I promised myself I’d push all thoughts of Jake out of my mind, in hopes of pushing him from my heart.
Yeah, right.
Even I didn’t think that was going to happen. In time, I hoped he would become just a distant memory. Now, though, his memory was so strong, if I allowed it just a moment to occupy my mind, it consumed me. I closed my eyes and could still feel his breath on my cheek, his skin on my skin. I would never again be able to let myself be as free as I was with him. That girl was gone.
Survivor Abby had returned, boundaries and walls firmly back in place.
Choosing the comfort of being numb over the pain of heartbreak.
On what was to be my third night of sleeping in the Chevy, I climbed in through the driver’s side door and plopped myself down on the bench seat to get some much-needed sleep. I’d spent the entire day walking up and down the island looking for work and was just drifting off when I heard something jingle. There in front of me, reflecting the light of the full moon, was a key ring with two small gold keys and a large silver Ford emblem key chain hanging from it. The keys were attached to the steering wheel by a large janitor-style hook. A Dunn’s Auto Repair sticky note was attached to the center of the wheel. The note on it appeared to be written by a child:
abby
the apartment is urs fer as long as you need. yu can use the truck too it needs to be run ery once in a while and settin in the lot aint doin it no good. I dont no what happened with jake and I dont care but I know he dont want you sleeping in the fucking truck like a dam hobo. reggie is pissed you aint showed up fer work so be there in the morn. sorry about the punching ur face thing. Im a drunk asshole most of the time.
sorry again.
frank dunn
Tears stung the back of my eyes. Despite the fact that he’d called me a hobo, it was by far the greatest note I had ever received. I held the necklace Jake gave me in between my fingers, as it had become my nature to do when I was thinking. It would be my constant reminder he wasn’t just a dream.
It had certainly felt like one, though.
I hadn’t even been sure that Frank remembered who I was, especially under the circumstances of our first encounter. But there I was, reading his offer of salvation.
The Dunn men may have seen themselves as being worlds apart in every way, but when it really came down to it, both men were deeply troubled by pasts they’d rather forget, and they both had laid themselves on the line for me when I really needed it.
Selflessly. Easily.
It was in these acts of kindness that I saw the similarities in them for the first time.
I laughed to myself because Jake would shit a brick if I ever told him that he and the man he hated most were in any way similar.
Mr. Dunn had just offered me the chance to save money and have a place to stay when the baby came.
The baby...
I didn’t know if I would be a good mom, or if I would even be able to be one at all under the circumstances. But when it came right down to it, I couldn’t bring myself to kill someone who didn’t even know they were the product of a hateful act, especially after he or she had been created despite the horrible condition my body was in. This baby was a fighter, a survivor like me.
We were already kindred spirits.
It was because of, not in spite of, the life growing inside me that I was able to move forward, a little at a time.
I had the chance to have a real family, for the first time in my life.
I was going to try my damnedest to protect it.
FOUR YEARS LATER…
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
IT WAS SEPTEMBER WHEN MR. DUNN’S already weak body gave out and was crushed under the heavy weight of his addictions.
Leave it to the people of Coral Pines to turn what should have been a small simple service into an event that could rival their annual mullet-toss festival.
Every meddling church lady and bored husband within twenty miles dressed to the nines to pay their “respects” to a man they didn’t really know, and certainly didn’t respect.
A group of chatting woman smiled and laughed on the top step of the church before the service started. They all clutched handkerchiefs as if letting everyone know they were capable of springing a leak at any moment. Although a lot of people had cared about my Nan, more people had come to her service as an excuse to finally dust off their best mourning outfits and compete in a Who’s Sadder competition than to celebrate her life.
This felt just like that had.
