His demeanor changed instantly. “I told you, I had a meeting. Now let me give Gabby her present. Where did you hide it?”
My mother looked upset. “It’s in my purse. I’ll get it in a moment.”
As my mother was cutting the cake, my father disappeared into the mudroom, where my mother always hung her purse.
Everything had a place in our house.
My mother gave me the first piece and then turned around to hand my father a slice, but he hadn’t returned yet. I guess she never realized he’d left the room. “Henry?”
“He went to get my present, Mommy,” I said excitedly.
There was a growl-like sound from the mudroom. “Susan!”
My mother paled right before us.
A thud had us all jumping.
“What’s the matter, Mommy?” Lizzy asked.
She set the cake down. “Go to your room, girls.”
“But Mommy, I haven’t finished my cake or opened my present.”
Lizzy stood and tugged on my nightgown. “Come on, Gabby.”
I shook my head.
My father appeared in the doorway holding a round, pink compact in his hand. His eyes were dark and his demeanor was now terrifying.
“Go, girls,” my mother said, beckoning us. “Now.”
Lizzy pulled me along and I went, but my eyes never left his.
“Susan,” he said again, even more sternly.
“I can explain, Henry.”
Before I was out of the kitchen doorway, I saw him take the handle of his gun and start pounding on the compact. Small pills were being crushed. I watched him, and then he glanced up and saw me. “You are supposed to be in your room,” he barked, and took a step toward me with his hands on his belt.
“No, Henry. No!” my mother yelled.
My sister pulled me harder and I followed her. With each step I could hear my father behind me.
As soon as she closed our door, he locked it.
He locked us in.
“Susan!” he yelled.
I heard her patter down the hallway. “Henry, we need to talk about this.”
“How long?”
There wasn’t an answer.
“How long have you been taking birth control pills?”
“Not as long as it took you to find another whore,” she spat.
His laugh was wicked. “I wouldn’t have to seek * elsewhere if you’d let me inside you when I need you. But that’s about to change right now, Susan. No more options for you. Now tell me, how long?”
My mother was whispering and I couldn’t hear her.
“My house. My rules. Get to our room, now!”
“Henry, we need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m going to have to punish you. I can’t let this go. You’re deliberately keeping something from me that I really want. What kind of wife does that to her husband?”
Even my sister had sat on her bed and was listening. We were both scared. We’d been punished with his belt a few times. Would he do that to our mother?
Their door shut.
“Give me your wrist,” he said. “Give it to me, Susan.”
“You don’t have to tie me up, Henry. You can have me.”
“I can have you? I can have you! You’re mine. I don’t have to have your permission. I’ve let you get away with your ‘I have a headache, I don’t feel well, the girls are awake, I’m really sick today’ excuses long enough. From now on, when I want you, you’re mine. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” she said calmly. She wasn’t as upset as she usually was.
“I thought we had an understanding, Susan.”
“So did I.”
He laughed. “What? You’re upset because I’m putting my dick in someone who wants me?”
“Yes. You promised me you wouldn’t do that again.”
“I have needs that you can’t meet. When you can, I won’t have to seek alternate outlets. But Susan, you’re distracting me from the issue. The problem isn’t me or who I have to fuck because you can’t satisfy my needs. It’s what you’ve been doing behind my back. I provide for this family and you grow it. That was our deal. I’m doing my part but you’re not doing yours. Do I have to stop providing for you to understand? Leave you and girls on your own? With nothing. Would you like that?”
She didn’t answer.
“Do I?” He yelled louder.
“No,” she cried.
I knew she was scared to be on her own. I’d heard her talking to someone about it once.
“I didn’t think so. Now give me your ankle.”
I left my bed and went to sit next to my sister. “What’s he doing?”
“I think he’s tying her up.”
“Why?” I gasped.
She shook her head. “Because she doesn’t want to have any more babies.”
That thumping started again, but there were no cries from my mother and no yelling from my father.
It was scarier than when there were.
My sister ran to the window and opened it. “Come over here, Gabby.”
I did.
She opened her dresser, which was beside the window, and handed me a small box with a red ribbon around it. “Here, happy birthday. This is from me. Mommy let me buy it with my babysitting money.”
I looked at her.
“Open it.”