19. The First Time: 'But he didn't hit me'

I hate arguing in front of company. It’s so rude and inappropriate, right? It makes everybody uncomfortable, especially the guests. What’s almost just as bad though is silently feuding in front of people. You know how everybody can feel the tension, but nobody’s talking about it?

So my older sister came to visit me and the baby. She lives down south and had only seen him once since he was born so I was really excited about her coming up. Her scheduled arrival just happened to be in the middle of World War III at the house. In all honesty, I don’t even remember what we were arguing about -- Could have been one or a few of so many things -- but I remember the fall out like it was yesterday.

It was early evening when Shay and her fiancé Mike (surprise!) got in. We sat around the apartment and caught up for a couple of hours before deciding to go out to dinner. BD had the car seat in the car so I called him and asked him to drop off the carrier. He was still angry from before and basically refused.

“BD are you serious? My sister and her fiancé are here and I can’t leave without the car seat. 

We’re trying to go to the Olive Garden.”

“My son’s not going to the Olive Garden!” He snapped before hanging up the phone. Madness.

Quick ironic sidebar here: I actually met him at the Olive Garden. Serita and I doubled; it was my first date with Digital and her first date with BD. Thinking back though, he didn’t eat anything. Just sat and drank lemonade and chatted. I guess over the years he’d become more staunch in his beliefs and not only would he now not eat in a restaurant that served pork, but he wouldn’t sit in one either.

I’d exited the living room with the fam and closed the bedroom to call BD. Shay poked her head in after a few minutes. It was apparent there was a problem.

“Don’t tell me he’s not bringing the car seat back,” She said knowingly. “In your  car. Please don’t tell me that.”

“I dunno, he’s being a real jackass right now. He’s talking about he can’t get away,”I lied.

BD sometimes worked little stage hand jobs on the weekends. It’s as close as he’d come in recent years to his dreams of a career in the entertainment industry. Actually, I don’t even think he was working that night.

They sat around with me and the baby, seeming to be entertained for a couple more hours before finally giving up on BD’s return and heading out for food themselves.

“We’ll bring you something back, sis,” Shay said apologetically on their way out. She was trying to make the best, but it was already palpably awkward and it was going to be a long weekend.

BD didn’t come home that night. A first. I had no idea where he was or who he was with or what he was doing or why he hadn’t come back or at least brought my car back. He’d turned his phone off.

The next morning, he called my phone back to back, demanding that I open the door so he could shower, change and go to work. I was outdone. He insisted he’d slept in the car right out front last night, not wanting to come in because my sister and her fiancé were there. I was incensed. Here I was, covering for his asinine behavior all night, assuring my company every hour on the hour, “Oh he’ll be back. He doesn’t not come home ...” in an attempt to make our crazy situation look halfway normal, and he goes and actually doesn’t show up. All night. And now what am I supposed to say when I open the door and he strolls in to get his shyt together and rolls out again? So I didn’t. The door was locked and latched and he wasn’t getting in.

Fast forward to that evening ... Deja  vu. 

Shay, her fiancé and I are again deciding upon a restaurant to have dinner. This time I won’t ask, I’ll just go. And I’ve decided, if BD doesn’t want the baby to go, he can stay home with him.

That’s not exactly the way things played out. This time, as it got later, I just asked Shay and Mike to leave.

“You guys go ahead,” I insisted, though they wanted to just order in. BD and I were gonna need some privacy to hash this out and I was really at the end of my rope. I wanted him to know it.

They left and when BD arrived, I layed into him.

“Who the f*ck do you think you are to embarrass me in front of my family!? I am so sick of your shyt!” Yes, all that. I was feeling pretty froggy.

I raged about his crazy need for power and lamented about my suffocated spirit.

He stood, seemingly unfazed, steely eyed and silent.

I threatened to leave him. I threatened to take our son.

With those words, it was as if a switch had been flipped and he pounced without warning,
Reaching me from across the room in one leap, grabbing my hair behind my head and ramming my face into the edge of a large stand-alone closet. It happened so quickly. I had no time to react, no time to even cower or cover my face.

The baby was sleeping soundly on the bed and I immediately went to him, when BD snatched him from under the sheet and held him to his chest. He had made it resoundingly clear, I would never leave him and if I did, it would be without my son.

My Treo chimed from the dresser. I’d told Shay to text me from downstairs when they got back. The buzzer was broken and I’d have to go down and open the door for them.

I touched my mouth, feeling for damage and looked at the blood on my fingers.

"I didn't hit you," BD said defensively.

He was scared I'd run and tell my sister what he'd done. Expose him. But I didn't want anyone to know any more than he did.

Originally posted on March 12, 2008