During the next week or so we start a courtship. We spend most evenings at either her place, or mine. We cook, watch movies, talk and flirt. There is however an obstacle to this going further and that’s Nicole. She’s always there, like a constant cock block. I understand why and I don’t blame or resent her for it. Her home life is so fucked up. During the course of a few weeks, bits of information spill out. Her overbearing and controlling father, who disapproves of everything she does. And a mother who stands idly by and tells Nicole just to pray about it.
Nicole and Brenda however, have formed a better plan than just praying. They’ve been funneling parts of her salary into a new bank account. The one Nicole had, is under control of dad. Over the past months they’ve almost accumulated enough money for Nicole to leave. After I tell Nicole that I’ve got some spare furniture from a previous relationship in storage, she’s most welcome to, they come to the conclusion that one month from now, she’ll be ready to move out.
During the next month Nicole smuggles out clothes and other items and stashes them at Brenda’s place. Then the day comes. Nicole signs the lease for an apartment in our building and the next Saturday I get my old things out of storage. By the end of the day, her apartment is furnished in a Spartan fashion. No luxuries but the essentials are there. I install a heavy burglar lock on the door, incase Nicole’s father gets any fancy ideas. Both Brenda and I promise to keep our phones on at night, just in case.
This turns out to be prudent, because one night after Nicole tells her parents she’s moved out, dad shows up. It starts out somewhat civil. He’s there with a representative of the church. Nicole waits for me to arrive before opening the door. Both father and priest tell me I have to wait outside because I’m an unmarried man and can’t be in her apartment. I ignore both of them and walk in anyway. After making clear that I’m not leaving, until they do, they start in on Nicole. With one bible quote after the other, trying to make her feel guilty over the shame she’s bringing on her family. How god will forgive her if she comes back now and that her mother hasn’t stopped crying.
They don’t let up and give Nicole no chance to retort. After what seems like an hour I step in. I move my body in-between the two men and Nicole who is sitting quietly in one of my old chairs. Both men stop talking. I kneel in front of her.
“Remember what you told me? Don’t lose sight of what you want and where you were.”
The mousy expression on her face begins to leave.
“They can’t make you do anything. You have the power here. This is YOUR house. Say what you want.”
When I see fight in her eyes, I get up and out of the way. Nicole begins to address the priest. And in a fiery voice tells him about the years of emotional abuse, the desire for freedom and theft of her money. When the men try to regain leverage over the conversation again, she stands and tells them she will no longer be lectured to, especially not in her own house. Her father gets angry, stands up and makes a threatening gesture toward Nicole. The new found confidence in her waivers, just for a second but then comes back.
“Go ahead! Show your church lackey what kind of a monster you are.”
My immediate instinct to step in and stop the oncoming violence is tempered by this response. When the priest holds him back, he backs off.
I look at Nicole, who is ready for a fight and her father who has a mixture of anger and misunderstanding on his face. He’s probably never been talked to in this manner.
“I think it’s time for you gentlemen to leave.”
Nicole adds, “and the next time you want to come by, you make an appointment and don’t show up unannounced!”
The priest makes an attempt to restart the conversation but I squash this by moving toward them both and pointing toward the exit.
This is when Brenda shows up.
“I’m sorry sweetie, I was stuck in traffic,” Brenda says while rushing towards her friend.
“Are these two being polite?”
“They were just about to leave,” I say.
With that, both father and priest beat a retreat. When the door is closed Nicole breaks down. She cries while having a big smile on her face. This is the first time she’s confronted her father and won. We spend the rest of the night together in her apartment. Brenda brings down an iPod dock and I get a spare mattress. We talk, order pizza and listen to Brenda’s horrible music collection. Nicole tells us she feels free for the first time in her life. When it’s time for bed Brenda and Nicole sleep in her bed and get the mattress in the living room. How I wish that arrangement was different.
Somewhere during the night I am woken by someone poking my shoulder. It’s Brenda. She kisses me on the mouth and whispers, “thank you for being here for her.”
Before I can react, she’s already on her feet and heading back to the bedroom, leaving me at full mast, damning and blessing her at the same time. In the morning we head back home and off to work.
The next few weeks pass by, fairly uneventful. Nicole and her mom communicate by passing letters in-between a mutual friend who hands the letters to her mom in church. The law department of her work has send a scary letter to her father who has since given Nicole access to her original bank account, which, save for a few hundred dollars is empty. Bank statement show that most of the money has recently been transferred to a church charity. Nicole, valuing her clean break more than the money decides not to take further action. Even though Brenda an I strongly disagree.
“Just imagine his face when he has to ask for the money back.”
It falls on deaf or more likely, compassionate ears. Even through all the shit she’s gone through, she’s still a good person.
Things between Brenda an me have diminished. We don’t flirt as much as we used to and Brenda is often distant. Plus there is always the ever present Nicole. Preventing any sort of intimate contact. She has been getting into her own of late. Far more cheerful, she’s ditched the coveralls for clothes, better suited to a woman. Also her hair is no longer formed into a mom-cut, but styled.
A meal for the three of us is setup for tonight, however when I get home I find Brenda with a bag full of shopping, stumbling through the hall. Propping herself up with her free hand, barely being able to walk. I rush up and grab the bag out of her hand.
“Oh my god, what happened to you?”
“Fell down some stairs.”
For a minute I think that Nicole’s father has done this, but her face is unmarked.
“Let me help you out,” I say while trying to put my arm around her.
She motions away from me, “please don’t, I’m bruised all over.”
Holding her other hand we make it to the door. I follow her inside and offer my assistance. Brenda tells me Nicole is coming and to just leave. She’s quite adamant about it. She lies down on the couch as Nicole walks in.
“I got it from here.” And I’m pushed out of the apartment.
Bewildered I go home. Was it something I did? I get a text saying, “thanx for your offer of help, but it’s a lady thing. I’m in good hands now.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
I text Nicole and let her know it there’s anything I can do, to knock on my door. She sends back that it’ll all be fine. That’s the last I hear from them for a week. When communication is restored, I get invited over to dinner at Nicole’s place. Brenda still has trouble moving around but we are back to our usual courtship. She’s flirty again. Winking, smiling, touching and after dinner while walking her back to her apartment, she holds on to me tight. When we get to the door she kisses my cheek and says, “good night, tiger.”
During dinner Nicole told us she’d be going to Paris for a week. She was going on her own, simply to experience that freedom. For her this was great, for me even better. I immediately asked Brenda over for dinner. Cock block will be in Paris and I will have a straight shot.
Nicole left on Wednesday and dinner was set for Friday night. When Friday rolled around I had done all the shopping, setup some candles, mood lighting and set the right music. I was ready to make my move. During the cooking process I realize I forgot the cilantro, so cursing I rush out to the shops. On my way back I see a group of teenage punks hassling a woman. I run over to stop it. Realizing upon getting closer they’re attacking Brenda, I’m ready to kill. I push the one, who looks like their leader, to the ground, hard. Then grabbing the closest one to me, by his throat, I roared, “didn’t any of you punks ever learn any manners?”
Brenda is now at my back telling me it’s all right and to let it go.
“This is not all right! This is not how to treat a lady, you motherfucking inbred pigs!”
With that, I throw the one I had by the throat, towards one of his friends. They both topple over.
“That’s no lady! That’s a guy. A fucking disgusting man! Are you a gay boy or something?” This is coming from a kid standing the furthest away from me.
I stand there for a second, not knowing what to do or say next. Deciding not to give a shit what some punk says, I grab the group leader, who was struggling to get up, by his hair and twist his arm behind him, “you and your fuckwit little friends better start running!”
Throwing him towards his friends, they do, and when they think they’re save, the yelling starts. Foul and disgusting language, making me wish I’d never let him go and just beaten the crap out of him. I turn to find Brenda. She’d already run towards our building. I follow. Just before I can catch up with her, she gets into her apartment.
Through the door I say, “it’s alright, they didn’t follow you, it’s just me.”
I hear nothing back. Deciding to let her come to, for a minute I go back to my own place and finish dinner.
I send her a text, “dinner is ready in ten minutes.”
I get nothing back.
“Are you oke? Forgot what those punk said. They’re just kids.”
After a few minutes, my phone chimes in.
“It’s true.”
“What is?”
“I’m a woman, but I didn’t start life that way.”
Leave a Reply