Chapter Two

I still felt a sadness…even all these years later. I just stood in the shower letting the hot water run over me and the bathroom steam up, remembering how lost I was without Billy back then. Trent didn’t even buy me anything that first Valentine’s Day. He said Valentine’s Day was a commercial holiday and he wasn’t about to add to the consumerism. I shouldn’t have been surprised, since Trent’s early affection was slowly being replaced by snipes carefully shrouded in the guise of helping me.

Drying off after the shower and pulling on my jeans and sweater, I suddenly understood with absolute clarity that Trent likely realized Billy’s kindness and thoughtfulness made him look bad. Of course he banned me from seeing him and banned those sweet candy hearts.

Some nights back then, I glanced around in awe at everything I had that most girls my age didn’t. I didn’t get flowers and chocolates for Valentine’s Day, but I did have a big house with a formal living room filled with crisp white furniture and a formal dining room housing an ornately carved mahogany table—only we never entertained. Trent didn’t think it was important.

I got pregnant not long after that first Valentine’s Day. Trent never asked me to marry him, but he knew that since he was the father of my child, I wasn’t going anywhere. Plus, he convinced me I could never survive on my own. I could never be a single parent. He even said once, “You were nothing before I met you and you’d be nothing if you left.” His whisper was more menacing than the loudest scream. I started to believe the things he told me. I internalized it and pretty soon I thought, Of course I’m useless.

A few years later Trent moved us out to California, thousands of miles from my home. He took the job and simply told me, “We’re moving.” He never consulted me. I never even got to see my mother when she was dying. She went so quickly I didn’t have a chance to break free. My dad passed away not long after my mom—probably of a broken heart—while I was stuck on the other side of the country, drowning in my own sorrow and loneliness.

Sometimes I wondered why I followed Trent. Sometimes I beat myself up. Even now, driving through the icy roads on my way to work, the question still haunted me, distracted me from life. Really it was for Josie; somehow she was a daddy’s girl. Even though Trent was awful to me, he was sweet as sugar to her, at least when she was little. I had to follow him, even without a ring on my finger. But, I lost everyone and everything that mattered to me, except my daughter.

There was one memory I held onto, one moment of peace. Trent had allowed my mom to help when Josie was born. She was so thrilled. She helped me set up the nursery and rocked Josie to sleep while I napped. I revisited those moments, like yellowing photographs, when I was at my loneliest. I finally got up the courage to leave Trent for good when Josie was eleven. She was a little chunky—just a tiny bit, just the remnants of baby fat left before she stretched out and her height outpaced her weight—and a little awkward. Her hair was frizzy and she had just gotten braces. I could clearly see the beauty she would become, but the disdain in Trent’s eyes when he looked at her was unmistakable. The moment he snatched a cookie out of her hand and told her she needed to “lose a few”, I saw the future in front of us in a split second.

We left in the middle of the night, sneaking out without a trace. After so many years together, I knew it was only a matter of time before Trent’s anger erupted into violence. In fact, I was amazed we had made it that far with him only using his tongue as a weapon. I was shocked that Trent didn’t try to follow, didn’t attempt to get us back. But he moved on and forgot about us, it seemed. I looked him up on Facebook and learned he’d found a new younger woman to dominate and started a new family.

Going it alone has been tough, but I’ve always been thankful I got out when I did. Even easing back into life in my hometown was challenge. I was the girl who ran off with an older man—the girl who got pregnant at twenty-three, had a baby at twenty-four without a ring on my finger. I was the girl who caused my mother so much grief and wasn’t there at her deathbed. I heard the whispers—it didn’t matter that I was thirty-five years old and had clawed my way back to a peaceful, if not easy, existence. I was still a disgrace.

My parents had left their house to me, so I had someplace to move into. It had fallen into a bit of disrepair after they passed away, but it was paid off. I only needed to pay the taxes. Not cheap in our town, but doable. I got a job at an elementary school a few towns over as a special education aid. I loved working with the kids—they opened my mind and filled my heart every day. And it was school hours. A year or two ago I started tending bar again at night, just to keep us floating above water. I never even talked to the men who tried to engage me—a head nod and polite smile let them know I was there to serve them liquor and nothing more. I only took the job, because it’s a paycheck and you can’t beat the tips.

I often imagine Billy sliding onto a stool when I’m tending bar. He used to sit and keep me company, and I always felt protected. He’d tell me silly jokes or pretend to be my boyfriend if someone was bothering me. When I met Trent, Billy wasn’t there because he had just started a new job in the city. I felt like suddenly Billy had this grown up life in Manhattan that I wasn’t a part of. He was working for a glossy magazine and living a sophisticated lifestyle—out every night at events, a new circle of friends. He still made time for me, but I felt like a small town girl compared to his city friends. When I met Trent, Billy was looking for an apartment in the city. I knew it was just a matter of time before Billy and I grew apart.

Hearing our song at school drop-off, the school we both went to—spiraled me back to those days. But, I had been thinking more and more about Billy, especially with Valentine’s Day right around the corner. As much as Trent loathed Valentine’s Day, that’s how much Billy loved it. Flowers, candy and stuffed animals were just the start. There was always a grand gesture.

One year following dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant, Billy blindfolded me and drove to the North Shore. When he took off my blindfold we were parked facing the Long Island Sound—a million stars winking at us from above. He pulled a picnic basket from the backseat and whispered, “Sweets for my sweet.”

“You’re so corny!” I exclaimed, but I loved it and savored every chocolate covered strawberry and white chocolate mousse truffle. The wind whipped around the car, but I never felt so warm and safe.

I shook my head—I was so caught up in daydreaming about Billy that I missed my exit and would be late for work. I dreaded the approach of Valentine’s Day, not just for myself but for Josie now too. I knew there was a boy she liked. I may have accidentally seen a text that popped up on her home screen while her phone was charging—the only time it wasn’t in her hand. He’s here! U have to get 2 the mall now. OMG! So cute. U will die. The next text said, Get here now and talk 2 him. Okay, maybe I didn’t see it accidentally. Maybe when I heard it chime, I picked it up and read it. But, if she truly didn’t want me to ever see snippets of her texts, she could set notifications to not preview. Or at least that’s what I told myself.

I kept waiting for Josie to confide in me. It never happened. Then I simply waited for her to go on a date—didn’t happen either, at least not that I knew of. I worried incessantly that mine and Trent’s disastrous relationship scared her off guys all together. Any time I tried to talk to her, I got snapped at—like asking her about the junior prom.

I promised myself to give her space and not worry about whether or not there was a boy she liked and whether he liked her. She was only sixteen. Just because I was in love then, didn’t mean she had to be. I decided it was better for her to wait until she was older anyway. Filled with newfound gratitude that I didn’t have to protect her from heartbreak yet, I headed into work. My best friend, Anna, was out and I was left to my thoughts all day as I helped the kids with cutting, pasting, the on and off of jackets and all the other minutia of a day at school. I loved them and they inspired me every day, but on this day my head just kept spinning back to Billy. I didn’t know how to shake his ghost.