Page 19 of Roll With The Punches
He laughed. “Hey, at least I knew I wouldn’t have to fight you for it.”
Calvin shuddered. “I think I would have put my foot down if she’d tried to bring that monstrosity home.”
* * * *
Thursday evening and Friday morning were a flurry of packing activity. Friday afternoon, Jeff and Calvin sized up the furniture they’d staged in the garage ahead of picking up the rental truck the next morning. Since the garage doors didn’t face out onto the street, it was safer to stage everything there. The longer a rental truck sat in the driveway, the greater the chance of someone seeing it and tipping off Sylvie’s husband.
Inside, Iris and Sylvie were frantically going room by room, packing boxes and stacking them in the garage as they filled them. The hope was that by the time they got the truck, they’d have everything packed and ready to load so they could immediately leave.
During a quick lunch break, they sat out at a picnic table in the fenced-in back yard immediately behind the house, while the dogs ran around and chased each other. Hamilton and Burr, two-year-old yellow Labs, were loving goofballs and brothers from the same litter.
Sylvie watched the dogs playing. “This was my dream house,” she softly said. “We had our first big fight, and he apologized and actually suggested going out house-hunting. When I saw this place, I fell in love with it, and he bought it for me. I didn’t even question him putting it in his name instead of mine. He said it was because he bought it with his inheritance money. Since then, I’ve learned that because he did that, technically it’s not ‘marital assets.’ Now I can’t stand to be here. It’s an emotional prison.”
The backyard was pretty, but from the way the grass had grown to mid-calf Jeff could see she hadn’t mowed it lately, unlike the manicured front yard. Outside the fenced area lay the thick woods that made up the bulk of their property.
“Do you have any plans yet for when you get back to Florida?” he asked.
“Already have a job lined up.”
“Oh. What do you do?”
“Real estate agent. I’m looking forward to having my life back. And to not having to look over my shoulder every time I turn around, or wondering when the next shoe will drop right on my head.”
“Are you worried about him coming after you in Florida?”
“Not really. That’s too much work for him. Morse only hit me once, and…” She held out her hands, indicating the house. “I told him if he hit me again, he’d be in jail. He didn’t have to hit me again, though. He’s verbally, mentally, emotionally, and sexually abusive. He’s threatened me so much that I’m finally numb. I knew I couldn’t live like this anymore. Life’s too short. Eight years with him has been eight years too long.”
One of the two dogs brought Jeff a stick. He took it from him and threw it. “Lifeisshort.”
“I am afraid he’ll hurt the babies,” she said. “About six months ago, when I started hinting to him about getting divorced, he outright threatened to kill them. That’s when I knew I had to get out. He knows how much I love them, even though they were another peace offering for me when I found out about his first affair.”
She wiped at her eyes. “Thank god I didn’t have children with him. I can only imagine what he’d be threatening me with then.” She slowly shook her head. “This place is forty acres. He’d talked about getting me a couple of horses. Another thing I’m glad I didn’t go through with now. I can only imagine trying to move horses.”
“What about your car?” She drove a Mercedes SUV.
“It’s in my name.”
“Another peace offering?”
“Yep.” She smiled, but it looked grim. “Stupid me, I knew he wasn’t perfect when we met. I mean, duh, who is? But I thought the little hints I picked up from him here and there were just…nerves, or him trying too hard to impress me. Anything. I made lots of excuses for him.” She sighed. “No more. Next guy in my life will have a hella number of hoops to jump through before I trust him.”
* * * *
The house looked pretty spartan by the time they all crashed on Friday night. She had two guest rooms, so Jeff was able to have a room to himself when he FaceTimed Brandon and Stuart.
The men were together in Brandon’s bed, both staring at him through the phone. “How’s it going?” Brandon asked.
“Fast. We’ll get the truck in the morning and hopefully be out of here by tomorrow afternoon ahead of schedule. We’ve got everything boxed up except some kitchen stuff and knick-knacks in the living room.”
“Why don’t you have the truck yet?” Stuart asked.
“We don’t want it sitting in the driveway. Everything’s in the garage for now. We know that once we’re loading, we’re at risk of someone who knows Morse calling or texting him about it. The good thing is that she lives sort of in the country, and they’re not really familiar with the neighbors. But he has some family about twenty minutes away. That’s a little closer than she’s comfortable with.”
“Makes sense,” Brandon said. “Keep us posted.”
Once he ended the call about twenty minutes later, Jeff thought he heard something…odd outside. Getting up, he found Sylvie downstairs on the back porch, the outside flood lights on, washing the dogs and sobbing.
“What’s wrong?”
