help one of the women who was there with us, I turned my back on her. All because I wanted to pretend it never happened. I used to be afraid of my own shadow. Then, I met this man – and guys, he’s amazing. My dream man. I love him. Things weren’t going to work out… because...well, the why doesn’t matter now.
My first thought when he left...was, “Thank God, I won’t have to tell him about those three days of hell.” And I was relieved. I saw that as a silver lining to losing the only man I’ve ever loved. Can you believe that? I’m a prisoner in a cage I’ve built around myself.
And I had to ask myself. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
How can I sit on here and preach about shunning shame and ask you all to overcome your fear so that I can tell your stories? How? When I can’t do the same. I’ve been so mad at my family for the secrets they’ve kept from me…and here I am keeping a whopper of one from them, myself. How can I expect them to trust me, when I don’t trust them? How can I help my daughter be brave and speak out if, God forbid, anything like happens to her, when I haven’t been willing to myself? I watch tv. I’ve seen what happens to women who speak out. From Anita Hill to Christine Brasley - Ford, it’s always the women who lose. I was afraid of the scrutiny, and I let that fear keep me in a marriage I should have never entered. It’s precluded me from knowing real intimacy with anyone, and now, it’s become the silver lining for my heartbreak.
I’m struggling, ladies. I’ve been telling your stories, setting the record straight for everyone, but I don’t know how to do it for myself.
I don’t have any answers or a happy note to end this on. I just don’t know who else would understand. Thank you for listening. Next week, I’ll be back with more stories about women we won’t allow the world to forget. This is The Jezebel, signing off.”
Chapter 49
Venus Rising
Stone
“Thank you so much for coming, I know it was a lot to ask,” Regan greets me with an outstretched hand and I just stare at it in disbelief.
“It’s flu season. Unnecessary touching isn’t recommended,” I say and climb out of my truck.
“Right,” she says, and stuffs her hands in the pockets of her skirt.
It’s fucking petty, but three months after that night at her house, the weight of resentment still sits in my gut like a boulder.
“I’m here. So cut the cloak and dagger. What do you need?” I ask, and cross my arms impatiently.
“It’s an emergency or I wouldn’t have called,” she says urgently.
I laugh. “Yeah, I’m aware that you avoid me at all costs.” I can’t keep the bitterness out of my voice.
She swallows audibly, and her eyes narrow as if she’s in pain for a second. “There’s a woman here, she didn’t have anywhere else to go. And she’s in labor. I think. She’s been having contractions all day.”
“Why didn’t you take her to the clinic you partnered with?”
She sighs, her hands flexing and curling at her sides. Her lips barely move when she speaks.
“They terminated our agreement after my divorce. Marcel is one of their largest patrons. I haven’t been able to negotiate another arrangement like that yet. I’m working on building my own clinic on sight, but that takes money that I’m still trying to raise. Permits that keep getting “lost” And, as you noted, you are my last resort, because it’s a fucking emergency.” She pauses to take a deep breath. I know we have issues, but if you could put them aside and please come help this woman who has trusted me with her life.” Her voice breaks and her chest heaves, her eyes are pleading and bleak.
But I need to understand what I’m walking into.
“Have you been timing her contractions?”
“Yes, but only since her water broke, and that’s when I called you.”
“How close?”
“Four minutes, max.”
“Do you have a delivery area set up?”
She nods eagerly. “I have everything in place. I found some info in the book about home births…I fitted the room out today.”
I grab her arm, “Today? She’s been here all day. Why’d you wait so long to call me?”
She bites her lip. “The baby’s not due for another month, and until her water broke, I wasn’t sure she was in