Boundaries Page 10

  “Knock it off, Maggie. That’s not what I mean. Hearing what that piece of shit did to you and your girls just made me furious. All I can think about is causing him as much pain as he caused all of you. I just wanted to see how everyone else was dealing with all this.”

  Tears filled Maggie's eyes, her head now looking up at the group. "I don't know what to say." She took a tissue out of the box and blew her nose. "I've wanted to hurt him for years now, but seeing what he's done to my girls makes those thoughts endless now. I never told anyone about that before. But, hearing you are feeling the same way helps. I don't feel so crazy."

  “Wanting to make him pay for what he did to you doesn’t make you crazy, Maggie, it makes you a mom, but what does it make me? I don’t even know him, or you, or your girls.”

  “I think it makes you compassionate…. well, thoughtful…” As I searched for the right word, Sonya erupted with laughter.

  “Did you hear what you just said?” Her laughter continued. “Killing someone makes me compassionate?”

  “Yeah, I know I didn’t say the right thing, but you know what I mean. You don’t want to see someone taken advantage of; you want to protect them. That’s what makes you compassionate, not the act of harming someone.”

  “I haven’t harmed anyone. I just want to.” Sonya twirled a piece of hair around her finger.

  "I've been thinking a lot about you, Maggie, and your sweet girls, too. I can't say I wanted to hurt anyone, but my heart surely hurts for you." Norma reached over and patted her hand on Maggie's knee.

  "Maggie, how have you felt since you shared with us?" I leaned in to try to get closer to the group.

  "I don't know. I hadn't thought much about it, about the sharing part. I always think about what he did. I'm still afraid, but what you all said helped me feel a little safer. I didn't know they'd tell me when they let him out, so that has helped me ease some of the fear."

  “I haven’t been able to stop the anger. I can’t even find the words to express the rage I feel.”

  "I hear you, Sonya. But what can we do to help you?" I turned to make eye contact with her.

  “Help me? I don’t need any help. I just want to let my rage do some good. You know?”

  “Oh, honey, if you use your rage for bad, you’ll suffer more. We don’t want that, do we?” Norma picked up Sonya’s hand and held it between hers.

  “You mean, you don’t want to cut his dick off?”

  Laughter escaped from Maggie as she covered her mouth with her tissue.

  “See, even Maggie thinks that’s a good idea.” Sonya slapped her hand against her leg.

  “Honey, I don’t want to think about his dick.” Norma wrinkled up her nose.

  The room erupted with laughter. The seriousness of the conversation took a back seat while we wiped away our tears. “So, there you have it, let’s stop thinking about his dick.”

  "Why do you think this upsets you so much? Did something happen to you, honey?" Norma's question changed the mood in the room.

  “Well, yeah, why else would I be here?”

  “No, no, I know that, but did something happen to you when you were a little girl? Did someone touch you?”

  Norma's question made my throat close. My heartbeat against my chest as I scanned the room. Memories flooded me, the images from Facebook from the night before filled the room. "Yes." It was too late to take back the words and deflect what I had just said.

  All eyes focused on me. “Sonya, did someone touch you, as a little girl?”

  “Wait a minute, you just said ‘yes.’ Do you have something you want to share with us?”

  "No, I wasn't answering, I was agreeing with Norma." This was not going to turn into a therapy session for me. I was the counselor, not the counseled. These women had enough of their own problems, they didn’t need to hear about mine.

  “Hmmm, well, it sure didn’t sound like that. No, no one touched me as a little girl. That’s gross. I don’t want to think about that.”

  “And you think I do? I can’t get the image of that bastard violating my beautiful little girls.”

  “Awe, geez, I’m sorry, Maggie, I didn’t mean that. I guess the truth is, I was molested by a neighbor when I was about eleven.” Sonya paused. “I’ve never told anyone before.” Sonya rocked back in forth in her chair as she looked around the room. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “I’m glad you told us. It makes sense why Maggie’s story upset you so much. Have you ever thought about harming the person who did it to you?” I waited for her response.

  “No, I mean, not lately. I think he’s dead. I don’t know, it’s been years.”

  “Do you want to tell us more about what happened to you? Do you think that would be helpful?”

  Maggie spoke up, “I think it would help me. To hear about someone who understands what my girls went through.”

  "Well, I haven't thought about it for years. I almost forgot it even happened until I heard Maggie talk about her girls." Sonya took a drink of her coffee and a deep breath. "There was an old man who lived next door to us. He wasn't creepy or anything, well, he didn't appear to be. He brought groceries for my mom every once in a while. He got on her good side and then he offered to babysit my little brother and me. We didn't have family close, so my mom was relieved to have someone she could trust to help her out. The first few times we stayed with him everything went fine. It didn't start happening until we started spending the night there. My mom picked up some more shifts to get Christmas money, and my brother and I would spend the night at his house.

  "One of the nights, I woke up and found him in my bed. He was naked. When he saw I was awake, he started kissing me. I didn't know what to do. I tried to scream, but he put his hand over my mouth. He told me if I wasn't quiet, he'd tell my mom I wasn't listening to him. He told me she knew what he was doing, and it was how she was repaying him for all of his help. I didn’t want to let my mom down, so I stayed still and let him continue. He pulled off my undies and pushed up my nightgown. It made me sick. He got mad when I didn’t do what he wanted. He said I was selfish because I wasn’t making him feel good. I started to cry harder, but it didn’t stop him. He stayed in my bed the rest of the night and wouldn’t let me get up to go to the bathroom.” Sonya closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip.

  “Oh, Sonya. I’m so sorry.” I handed her a box of tissues.

  “In the morning, when I woke up, he was making us pancakes, like nothing happened. He had a bath running for me and told me I needed to go get cleaned up. My little brother happily ate his breakfast while I washed away the evidence. Before my mom came over to get us, he told me if I told anyone, he wouldn’t be able to help my mom anymore, and if he couldn’t help her, she would lose her job. I didn’t want to make life harder for her, so I didn’t say anything. For the next three years, he kept this up, and I kept it quiet. When he found out I got my period, he started using condoms, but he made me feel dirty about it like I was no good because he had to wear one. Thankfully, I didn’t get pregnant, but the thought that I could have scared me. I mean, what would I have said? My mom had no idea what was happening. She would have been so angry. The only thing that made it stop was when I was old enough to stay home and watch my little brother. I was fourteen when my mom agreed it would be safe enough for us to stay home without her. Little did she know being home alone was way safer than going to that sicko’s house.”

  The room stayed quiet as Sonya disclosed the horror she went through. Something in me wanted to tell her I understood what she had gone through, but I wasn't ready to share yet. I needed to be strong for her and the others. The idea that there were so many people silently suffering was becoming more of a reality. The need for revenge burned stronger, and I could relate even more to Sonya than before.

  “Sonya, I am so sorry that happened to you. I can understand your anger now, and it makes total sense. Thank you so much for trusting us enough to share that with us.”

  Tears streamed down
Maggie’s face. She blew her nose in her recycled tissue and nodded her head to Sonya. “Thank you…for sharing that with us. It helps…to…to understand what my girls went through. I’m so sorry you couldn’t tell your mom.”

  “I think I could have, but I believed him. And, after a while, I was ashamed. You know, after a while, I felt like I was just as guilty. After a while, I tried to pretend he was someone else, and, you know, enjoy it. It sounds disgusting, but, if I didn’t fight it, it didn’t hurt so bad. Don’t get me wrong, I hated it, but I needed a way to get through it.”

  “That makes perfect sense, Sonya. I think that’s a normal response. Sex can feel good, that doesn’t make you responsible. It still makes him a sick son of a bitch.”

  “You think? That’s kind of a relief. I always thought when I went along with it, it made me guilty, too. I seriously never told any of this to anyone before today. Not sure how I feel about that yet.”

  "That was very brave of you to release all that. Now, you can start working on healing." I realized the hypocrisy in my words, but I meant them.

  "I didn't realize I wasn't healed. I figured I could forget about it and move on with my life. I never expected to react the way I did after hearing about someone else. I knew people sucked; I just didn't want to believe anyone else would have to deal with what I did. I guess the amount of anger I've experienced the last few days isn't healthy, but I'm not sure I want to give it up, you know?"

  “Give what up?”

  “The anger. I kinda like how it feels. I like how fired up it gets me.” She took another drink of her coffee and tapped her fingers against the cup.

  “Oh, honey, you don’t want to live a life like that. You want to forgive, release the power that anger has on you.”

  “Oh, sweet, old Norma, that is not at all what I want. I don’t want to forgive anyone. Not now. Not ever. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “I just might. I have my own story, dear. Don’t dismiss this old lady.”

  “Norma is right, Sonya, we each have our own way of dealing with the life we have been handed. Forgiveness might work for Norma, while anger might work for you. You both might be right.”

  “I’m with Sonya on this one, I’m not sure I could ever forgive Hank for what he did to Lexi and Sammy. If Lexi hadn’t been pregnant, he would still be raping my babies. I think about that all the time. I can’t forgive him, and I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

  “Maggie, you are not to blame for what happened to your girls. You did the right thing as soon as you knew. Not all moms do that, they are the ones that should never forgive themselves, but not you.” I wish there was something I could say to make her believe me, but I know she’s not ready to hear it yet.

  “She’s right, dear, you are a good mom, and your girls are lucky to have you on their side. Give it time, you’ll see the good work you’ve done.”

  “I wonder what my mom would have done if I ever told her what that sick fuck did to me. I can’t tell her now, I mean, what would be the point?”

  “Are you and your mom close?” Maggie waited for her reply.

  “Yeah, I guess. Well, I don’t know, not really, I guess. We get along, but we’re not really close. I don’t go to her to talk or anything.”

  “Do you have anyone in your life that you trust, that you can talk to?” I asked the question, knowing the answer.

  “Yeah, sure, you guys.”

  “Okay, that’s great that we have each other now, but do you have anyone else? I mean, we are all pretty new friends.”

  “No, I really don’t. I have a few friends at work, but no one I trust.” She paused for a moment as she looked around the room at us. “That’s bad, isn’t it? I’m pathetic, right?”

  "No, not at all. It's quite normal, considering what you've been through. A lot of people who have been hurt by others in the past have a hard time trusting others. It can be easier to figure things out on your own when you've been hurt so badly by others in the past."

  “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience?” Sonya gave me the perfect segue to disclose my past, but it wasn’t time yet. Tim was the only person who knew about my past, and he only knew a fraction of it.

  “Fair enough. I think we all have been hurt in one way or another.”

  “That’s true, dear. I think it’s right on the money. I never had too many people I could trust, now that you mention it. I’ve had plenty of friends, but none I could share like this with. Thank you, Val, for getting us together. It feels so nice to be with others who understand.”

  “How about you, Maggie? Do you have anyone you talk with?”

  “Hank made it so I couldn’t have contact with my friends or family. I haven’t tried to reconnect with any of them yet. I do have my therapist, and she has been helpful, but no one else outside of this room.”

  “How often would you all like to meet? We were scheduled for once a week, but do you feel like that will be enough?”

  “I think twice a week would be better,” Sonya answered for everyone. “Maybe Tuesdays and Fridays?”

  “I’m not sure I can get this room consistently twice a week. It’s scheduled for Tuesdays, but Fridays might be problematic. Maybe we could meet somewhere else on Fridays? Go get lunch or something?”

  "I don't think that's a good idea," Maggie spoke up. "We wouldn't be able to be honest in a restaurant, people could hear us."

  “She’s right, dear. We could meet at my place. I live just down the road.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Sonya stood up and brushed the crumbs off the front of her pants. “See you all on Tuesday.”

  “Do you have a few minutes to stick around today, Sonya?” Maggie and Norma stood up to walk to the door. “See you next week, ladies, thank you for coming in this morning. I think it’s been helpful.”

  "I think so, too." Norma took my hand, patted the top of it and left the room with a smile. "Maggie, do you want to stop over for tea?" I heard the conversation continue down the hall as they left the hospital together.

  “Thanks for sticking around.” I pulled out my notepad and pulled the pen cap off. “Have you ever checked to see if your neighbor actually died?”

  “No. I just assumed he’s dead. I mean, he was old back then and it’s been about ten years. Why are you asking?”

  “I don’t really know. I guess I just wanted to make sure you are safe.”

  “Well, he hasn’t bothered me since I was old enough to tell him to leave me the fuck alone.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, what’s his name? I just want to see if I can get any information dug up on him.”

  “Donald Brice. I still don’t get why this matters to you.”

  “The same reason Maggie’s story bothered you so much.” I half hoped she would pick up on the clue I dropped, but not sure I was ready to discuss it any further.

  Her eyes met mine, and for the first time since meeting her, a calm came over her. “I thought so. You know, sometimes, you can just tell.”

  “Yeah, I know. The curse of the damaged. All that self-doubt makes us second guess our gut feeling. I think that’s the worst part for me.”

  “Hmmm, so I’m not the only one that second guesses everything?”

  “I’m afraid not. Are you going to be OK this weekend?”

  “Yeah, I don’t have any other choice.” She smiled as she started walking out the door.

  “Thanks for sharing today, Sonya.”

  “Back at you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  When I got to my office, I pulled out my phone and typed Donald Brice's name into the search bar. His name didn't come up. Like I tried with my gram, I added the word obituary in the search. Still, no results. He may be alive.

  The story Sonya told was graphic and gruesome. As I replayed it in my mind, the anger inside me boiled over. I wondered if her mom would have believed her and if Donald would have been held accountable for his actions. I imagined Sonya as the innocent eleven-year-old girl
and the fear she must have felt as he tortured her for his pleasure. I didn’t understand how the people you thought you could trust were the ones that could be the most dangerous. All of the thoughts swirled through my head as I stared at the blank computer screen.

  As the computer started up, an idea hit me. I could search for his name in our database. I knew how much trouble I could get in if anyone ever found out, but why would they look? I’d never even been written up for anything before. As I struggled with my inner voice, I knew I had to know. I had to know more about this man, and I doubted I could find anything about him on Facebook. What was the worst that could happen?

  I couldn't fight the need to know. I entered his name in the patient portal and waited for it to populate. Donald Brice wasn't a common name, so the one hit that came up had to be him. I clicked on his name, and in seconds I had access to all of his information. He was seventy-five, so he wasn't as old as I had imagined. He lived in the next town over and his next of kin was listed as a woman with the same last name as Sonya. That must be her mother. How could that be? I wondered if Sonya knew…but what good would it do for me to tell her?

  Before I could even think I picked up the phone and dialed his number. "Hi, this is Stephanie Mills from Lawrenceville Regional Hospital, is this Mr. Brice?"

  “Yes, what can I help you with?”

  “I’m calling about a new program we are starting here at the hospital. We are offering home visits for diabetes education. Would you be interested in a visit?”

  “Well, that depends. Would you be the one coming out?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Great. I’d love that. When should I expect you?”

  “Hmmm, let me see…I could be there this evening, around 5?”

  “Works for me. Do you need my address? Directions?”

  “No, I have your address. What color house should I look for?”

  “It’s a white house with black shutters. The mailbox out front has my name on it.”

  “Sounds easy enough. I’ll see you this evening.”