The Center

[PART II - THE BEGINNING] Chapter 21- The Wicked Man

Love.

That was really what this all boiled down to, love.

Before The Center.

Before the baby.

Before Daniel Orbach.

All this mess happened to me from a desire to be loved by a man. Any man. If I try to land on where it all began, I'd have to say it was the day I met Kurt Foster, a college student on spring break. I was 12 and I didn't want to go to the stupid zoo with the rest of the family. My father dropped me off alone with twenty bucks and a promise to text me when they were done.

I felt so free and grown that day. I certainly wasn't afraid. Nothing in my mind told me to worry when the twenty-nine-year-old Kurt Foster from Chicago approached me an hour later.

He sat on the grass next to me. "My buddies went to the zoo." He shrugged. "Sounded lame." I couldn't believe it. What are the odds a handsome guy would think just like me? His smile was brighter than the sun on a cloudless day. My dreamy 12-year-old mind called it destiny.

He asked to hold my hand.

I said, "Yes."

He looked me in the eye and rubbed circles into my knuckles.

Blood rushed to every feeling part of my body.

He told me about his home town of Chicago and his scholarship to Boise State. He told me about spring-break and the guys who came to California with him. He told me of his plans to capture the wind with turbines and blades. All that information filled me with a sense of importance. It made me desire a world outside of the drama at home or in school.

One week later, Kurt didn't take my virginity, I gave it to him freely. I had no idea he would leave me ignoring every call and text once he went back to Idaho.

Maybe that should have turned me off against sex.

Maybe that should have turned me off against men.

Problem was it didn't. It only made me more hungry for love. It was like a big empty hole inside me screamed for more. The beginning of an awful addiction for affection that only left me reeling from rejection. Before we left San Diego, at seventeen, I'd been with more than thirty men. I thought each one of them loved me. I thought I loved them back. I figured I'd eventually land with the right one. Stupid. The right one doesn't date girls like me. I only started to figure that out when we moved from San Diego to Virginia.

At seventeen, I made a vow to change. In fact, I sealed the deal by dumping my birth control in the Potomac River. I walked down the grassy hill of my great-grandfather's estate, popped out each tiny, yellow pill and dropped them into the murky waters.

No protection.

No sex.

My dating days were done. Seriously. I would graduate in a year and then I'd apply for college on the Pacific Coast where I belonged.

The river, near our new home, flowed twenty-some-odd miles toward DC. Airplanes flew along that route to land at Regan National. The one overhead, blocked the sun and the sound of my father's approach. I was startled when I found him suddenly standing next to me. I crumpled the plastic packaging into my back pocket. As far as I could tell, no one knew about my contraceptives. Definitely not my father.

"We have some company coming this afternoon," he said.

"Who?" I smiled up at him. His jaw stayed tight as he stared across the water at Fort Washington Park. His ambivalence stung. This was the time in my life when I should have been hating him, not the other way around. I scuffed my toe into the green grass.

"Connections from the Country Club." He cleared his throat. "My sister Connie and her family will be here and I expect you to be on your best behavior."

"Bailey's coming?" I wanted to grab his hand and hug him the way other daughters hugged their fathers when they got good news. Of course, I knew that wouldn't fly. I'd wait and hug my adorable cousin when she arrived. "Bailey's coming," I said this time with hope.

"Yes." My father dusted off his arm as if I'd actually touched him. "Your cousin and her boyfriend have a friend. Seems your aunt approves and since they all go to Master's Elite, I have no objections."

"Great," I said. He stabbed me with eye contact. Disgust covered his face as it did when he first announced to my mother and sister how my "antics" had finally caught up to me. My "bullying" got him kicked off the San Diego school board.

"Until you leave my house." He leaned forward. "You will only date boys your own age."

I swallowed.

He knew.

My heart ached with each beat.

He hated me, and I wondered when that fact would stop bothering me. Would a day ever come when I would not care that my own father didn't love me?

"My sister seems to think these kids can help set you straight."

Wait, what?

"She thinks she can keep you in line with the right circle of influence."

I pinched my lips and hate my life.

"This Orbach boy is from good stock."

If I hadn't been holding my mouth closed, my jaw would have landed on the ground. This wasn't a casual meeting. My aunt was actually trying to match-make. Gross. My life couldn't suck more at this moment. I dug my shoe deeper into the grass. What did I care? I hadn't been successful with men. Might as well let Aunt Constance try. Maybe the right boy with zero knowledge of my history could be a chance for a clean slate. I sighed and said, "Okay."

He nodded and walked away. He did that a lot, walked away with his back straight as a board. His shirt hung loose without a wrinkle. He'd worked all day, but not one wrinkle.

Whatever. I felt wrinkled enough for both of us. Truth is what did I care? I hadn't been successful in love, why not let Aunt Constance set me up. Make me a debutant. It could be what I'd been looking for all my life. So, that's how Daniel Orbach became the latest addiction in my search for love. And just as one drug leads to another, I ended up having unprotected sex in the back of his BMW over Labor Day week-end.