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“Callie! I’m going out for a run,” I called up the stairs. “I’ll fix dinner when I get back.”
“OK Mom, I’ll make us a salad while you’re gone.”
I smiled as I took off out the door. I had really lucked out with Callie. She was such a good kid. Helpful. Kind. And – so far at least – she still liked to spend time with me. I knew once she started high school and made friends she would probably start separating from me. It was the natural order of things, but I wasn’t looking forward to it. I loved spending time with my little girl. She was the one good thing I had done in my life.
I walked briskly up the street to warm up, then turned the corner and eased into a run. I could start out running full out like I had when I was younger, now I paced myself and stretched after.
I headed up the frontage road that ran along part of the beach adjacent to Diamond Bay. There were no sidewalks or boardwalk here like we had on the tourist side of town, but the road was quiet, and the view was stunning. I settled into my run, feeling the peace of the regular rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement and the sound of the waves crashing into the shore on my left.
As always, my mind emptied as I felt the endorphins kick in. That was my favorite part of running. I ran around a sharp curve in the road and jumped as a car come up behind me and honked, starling me. What the hell?
The car pulled alongside me as I continued running. They rolled down the passenger window and I stifled a sigh as I turned my head and saw Mitch in his police cruiser. I swear I somehow ran into this guy everywhere I went in town: the grocery store, the post office, walking down the street, wherever I went, there he was.
He always seemed grumpy and disapproving, nothing like the fun-loving sweet guy I had dated in high school. He had grown up to be a domineering jerk. The other day he had actually chastised me for jaywalking across an empty street downtown.
“Penny!” he called out.
I ignored him and kept running. I thought I heard him swear as he drove ahead of me, only to pull off on the shoulder several yards up. He got out of the car and waited until I reached him, his stance wide and arms crossed. His face was a stern mask.
“I know you heard me,” he said drily as I slowed to a stop near him.
I put my hands on my hips as I caught my breath.
“What do you want Mitch?” I asked, my tone clearly conveying my irritation. “I’m trying to run.”
He walked closer and straightened to his full height, forcing me to look up at him. “Trying to get killed is more like it,” he answered.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re supposed to run facing traffic,” he said, “So you can see cars coming and they can see you. I came around that curve and didn’t see you until I was right behind you. If someone were speeding they would have hit you.”
I sighed. Loudly.
“Well thank you for your concern, Sheriff,” I said, emphasizing the last word. I started to move around him to resume my run, but he reached out to grab my arm. I ignored the tingling of electricity from his touch and took a deep breath, looking pointedly at his hand.
“Run facing traffic, Penny,” he ordered in his strict cop voice. “Or next time I’ll write you a ticket.”
I pulled my arm from his grasp and looked at him incredulously.
“A ticket? Are you freaking kidding me right now?”
“I never kid about the rules of the road,” he said. I knew him well enough to know he was trying to be funny, but I wasn’t having it.
“Fine!” I spat out, turning back towards the direction I came from. I started running, facing traffic this time, but he followed me on foot, keeping up easily. Of course.
“Penny, wait,” he said.
I came to a stop again. “What now?”
His gaze searched mine for a long moment.
“We were....good friends in high school,” he reminded me. “And we had an amicable break-up. But you seem...I don’t know, kind of angry with me.”
“I don’t like being bossed around,” I told him, my voice sharp and angry.
He looked confused so I continued, deepening my voice to mimic him.
“Don’t go on your roof Penny. Don’t cross the street here Penny. Don’t run on that side of the road Penny. Don’t charge those rates Penny.”
“My job is to protect people in this town,” he said stubbornly. “I’m not going to apologize for that.”
“At least when we were kids you knew the word ‘please,” I reminded him. “In fact, I clearly remember you using that word repeatedly the night of junior prom.”
His eyes turned hot with the reminder of the night we both lost our virginity.
“Now you’re just a rude and bossy jerk. I don’t like it Mitch, I don’t like it at all.” My voice raised with every word. “And I don’t like you.”
He seemed taken aback, his mouth opening but nothing coming out. I thought I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes, but it disappeared quickly.
“Now unless you’re going to tell me about something else I’m doing wrong, I’d like to finish my damn run.”
He just stood there staring at me, so I sighed, shot him another glare, and took off towards my house. I pushed my pace and sprinted home as I fumed. What a jerk.
The following Monday was Callie’s first day of high school. As we ate breakfast together I could tell she was nervous, but also excited. “All these kids have known each other since kindergarten,” she said uncertainly. “I hope I’ll fit in.”
“I think a lot of people move in and out of town,” I reassured her. “There’s not a lot of good paying jobs on the coast. I bet you aren’t the only new kid. Everyone we’ve met here so far has been super friendly, right?”
After so many years in Portland I’d forgotten how friendly small towns could be.
I reached over to give her a one-armed hug. “Plus, you’re very likable,” I told her. “In fact, I like you a lot.”
That got me a smile.
Normally she could walk to school, but for her first day I drove her the six blocks to the high school and sat in my car watching her walk into the building, just like I had done on the first day of every other school year. I wiped away a tear and sent up a small prayer that Diamond Bay High would be good for my baby.
I lived with the constant guilt of not leaving her father sooner, convincing myself that since his anger and criticism was focused on me it wouldn’t hurt her. I suffered under that delusion until a couple of weeks after Callie’s 9th birthday. She had gotten sassy with her father and Rick had backhanded her so hard she flew into the drywall.
“You’re just a stupid little bitch just like your mother,” he had screamed at her before storming out of the house, no doubt to go to the bar where he spent half our money.
We were gone when he came back. I went to a neighbor up the street who worked in the Domestic Violence Unit at the police and she pulled some strings and helped me get into a shelter that same night.
Callie and I spent six months in the shelter healing from our experience. They helped me file a police report, get a restraining order, separate our finances, and start divorce proceedings.
When I moved into my own place I was a different person than I was when I first showed up at the shelter. Happier. More confident. The advocates at the shelter had saved us, and I so grateful that they had helped me find the strength to stay away despite months of Rick begging me to come back. I knew other women wound up going back to their abusers and giving them another chance, only to end up seriously hurt, like Rick’s next girlfriend had been.
I shook off my melancholy mood and returned to my house to get busy now that Callie was back in school. I had a meeting scheduled with Mitch the following week to show him some of my ideas for the Sheriff Department’s page on the website, and I knew I needed to bring my ‘A’ game with him.
I’d show him I was worth every dollar they were paying me.