A House on Eden

7. Tuesday

Bruce called at nine in the evening. "Jessie, where in god's name are you?" He said. His voice sounded rough, his words were slurred.

"At my mother's," I said. "You know that."

"The hell you're not!" He exclaimed. "I called your mother, Jessie, and she's not ill and your father is not on a trip out in New Mexico. Where the hell are you?"

"I've moved out," I said. The words were heavy but they came out.

"No you didn't!" He said. "All your stuff's still here!" He was beginning to sound angry.

"Some of it," I said softly.

"Do I have to get into my cruiser and chase you down?" He roared.

"I've left you," I said.

"You what?"

"I've left you, Bruce," I said. "I'm tired of you and our marriage and the beatings."

He was silent for a while. I tried to catch my breath, waiting for his rage.

"You can't leave me!" He roared. "You're my wife! Who're you shacking up with?"

"No one," I said. "I'm all alone by myself."

"Where?" He said.

"I'm not saying," I said.

"Hell, Jessie," he said, calmer now, "I'm a police officer. I can access your bank statements, your phone calls, your DMV records. I'll have your address in an hour."

"Go ahead," I said. "I didn't change my address. The records will show nothing."

"Well goddammit," he said. "I'll find you and then there'll be hell to pay. I will drag you back here by your hair kicking and screaming. Do you want that?"

"No," I said, "but I know you do. You're a violent man, Bruce, and I deserve better. I should have listened to my mother."

"What's she gotta do with it?" He said.

"She told me to not marry a cop," I said, "and I'm sorry I did. But it's over now. I'm where I want to be."

"You just wait, Jessie," he said. "You just wait. I'll be coming for you."

He disconnected the call. Around me the house settled in for the night. The kitchen door closed more firmly, the windows darkened, the hardwood floors stood strong and firm. The cabinets hung like watchers, the walls moved in to shield me, the overhead fan cooled my face.

In the night I woke feeling something was watching me, studying me. No, not watching. Watching over. I felt the way I had felt as a child, feeling my father's strong arms envelop me. I smiled and fell back to sleep. In the morning he stood at my door.