There was no answer. It was just as well after last night. If he had been there, she would have just seen that same sheepish smile that greeted her the morning after the first time it happened. She thought about leaving him that first night he hit her. But better judgment calmed her down. Men could be changed. Men could be saved. Didn’t her mother always say that?
Christopher’s mother got out of bed.
She looked down at the pillow, white and fluffy like clouds. For some reason, that first night wouldn’t get out of her mind, like the chorus of an annoying song. Why didn’t she leave him that first time? Just pack her things, get the Visa he didn’t know about, the hidden cash from the drawer, and just go?
Because.
That single word sat there like his car on blocks in the driveway. What would have happened if she had left that first time he hit her? Who knew? Her mother always said that when something bad happens, think about the worse. If you get a flat tire, it’s just God saving you from a fatal accident twenty seconds later. That sentence helped her mother endure (or allow) two decades of men coming in and out of her life so quickly that she joked that she should have installed a revolving door and saved them all the trouble. Christopher’s mother didn’t know what the accident would have been if she had actually left Jerry, but there are worse things in the world than a black eye. Or two.
Right?
Right. It’s not like the world came to an end. Plus, she reminded herself that her own mother had known a lot worse than Jerry. Little Kate had listened to more than her fair share of kisses mixed with fists through the bathroom walls of their studio apartment. The little girl she was hated those men. Especially when she was left alone with them. But the woman she became hated her mother more. Kate may have had low standards for herself. But no one touched her son. No one would fucking dare.
If only Christopher could give her credit for that.
Christopher’s mother went to the window. She looked at herself in the glass. It was fogged a little. Just enough to soften the wrinkles that marked time. Thank God for small favors. She got out the concealer she kept in the nightstand.
Then, she covered up the fresh black eye with a practiced hand.
It didn’t look so bad, she told herself. Not in the opaque window, anyway. And it’s not like she was leaving the house today. He cried last night after it happened. Real tears. Jerry wasn’t a bad man. His childhood was almost as bad as hers. Maybe that’s what made them understand each other. Maybe that’s what made him propose and her say yes all those years ago.
When she was done, she looked down into the backyard at the swing set that she had begged him to buy. The swings were rusted now, but they were moving in the wind like they did back when Christopher and his buddy Lenny Cordisco played on them.
Back when her son would still talk to her.
Christopher’s mother put on her favorite house dress and left the room. She looked down the hall at her son’s old bedroom. How long ago did Jerry finally insist that she get his stuff out of it? She put her foot down. But so did he. That was a bad night. She didn’t like to think about it anymore.
She walked down the stairs. She stared at pictures of a lifetime together greying like her hair. Their wedding photo. The honeymoon in West Virginia at that casino. What was the name of it again? She couldn’t quite remember. She couldn’t quite remember anything outside of this house anymore. She shook off the feeling with more photos. Christopher’s graduation. High school. Then, military academy. Then, wedding. Then, her first and only grandchild. And somewhere along the line, he or his wife decided it was best if Jerry wasn’t in their life anymore.
“It’s me or him, Mom,” he said, two decades too late.
She reached the bottom of the stairs, where Christopher’s belongings had been thrown when she finally lost the argument.
Not argument! Fight, Mom! Wake up!
She suddenly got a terrible feeling. A chill ran down her back as if she were lying on the ground in the dead of winter. That’s what she got for remembering things.