Page 89 of The Happy Month
“I’d ask Ronnie if he wanted me to stay, I guess.”
“An abuser insists that he has to stay. And the abused person is too afraid to contradict them. Even if the doctor asks directly, they’ll say they want him to stay.”
“How do you get them away?”
“You don’t. Pushing too hard can escalate things. If a doctor is absolutely certain there’s been physical abuse they can report it. We have a form for that, but it’s not required like it is for kids. Legally we have to report child abuse. And that’s only goes back to the sixties. The time period you’re talking about? There was nothing.”
“Thanks. I guess I really just want to know what to look for. I think you answered that.”
“I would say the longer it goes on, the harder it is to escape.”
“Can abuse last a lifetime?”
“Oh yes. But it isn’t always a long lifetime.”
That made me wonder. Was Gigi out there somewhere still being abused? Had Vera and Shirley been attempts at escape? After her husband killed them, did she stoptrying?
I had to find her.
We usually charged our cellular phones on the windowsill in our bedroom. There’s a plug beneath the window so it’s easy. One of them started to ring at nine Sunday morning. Usually, it’s Ronnie getting early morning calls, so he got out of bed, took a couple of steps, and said, “No. It’s yours.”
“Shit,” I said, just because.
Getting out of bed, I stretched a little to even out my back. It didn’t really work. I picked up the phone and said, “Yeah?”
“This is Wesley Colcott. I represent Sammy Blanchard. She’d like to come in and talk to Ms. Gonzalez about her husband’s involvement in Pete Michaels’ murder.”
“Okay, that’s great. I’ll have someone call you. Can you give me your number?”
Behind me Ronnie said, “It’s on the screen.”
Holding my phone away from me I saw that it was. “Never mind, I’ve got it. We’ll get back to you to set something up, ASAP.”
He hung up on me without saying goodbye. I poked around looking for a pad and pencil. There was one on the dresser, another on the nightstand next to Ronnie. I grabbed the one on the dresser and copied Colcott’s phone number.
Then I called Lydia. As it rang, I said to Ronnie, “Sorry, I should have gone downstairs and used the real phone. This is costing money.”
“Don’t worry. I’m enjoying the view.”
This was a reference to the fact that I was standing there in nothing but a pair of white Calvin Kleins he’d picked up for me at Marshalls. Lydia answered.
“Hi, sorry to bother you. Sammy’s attorney called. She’s ready to schedule a depo.”
“He called now? On Sunday morning?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I guess they’re eager. You must have done a good sales job.”
“I think it was more like a salesthreat.”
“Well, it worked. I’ll let you know what we decide on. You need to be there.”
Then she hung up on me. I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. “I’ll make coffee.”
“Come here.”
I leaned over the bed and kissed him. “That what you wanted?”
