At first, or all along, I was terrified that Leslie would take Adrian away from me. The only thing that held me together was knowing that Leslie could not tolerate having Adrian alone for long periods of time. Intellectually, I knew that if I just kept being there for Leslie to give Adrian to, Leslie would take the easy path and not find a substitute.
In my heart, I did not have intellectual beliefs and the constant fear tore me up inside. I did not know how to quit living with Leslie and assure myself of my time with Adrian. Finally, I struck on a plan. What if I moved out of the house and Leslie remained there even if I owned the house? That way, I could always find Leslie and Adrian. I proposed this plan to Leslie, who, being the one that always goes down the path of least resistance, accepted gracelessly.
Now, it was me that had to move from the home I’d never planned on leaving and take my dog and cat. It was an overwhelming but necessary plan. My main concern was rent. I didn’t make that much money. I knew I would find a way. For awhile, it gave me comfort.
* * * * * * *
In April, Rahne and I had made a plan to go to a cabin together for a week in the San Juan Islands in the summer. It would be the first break either of us had had in awhile. Adrian was staying with Leslie for the week who was also going on a trip.
The weather was beautiful. The cabin was idyllic, located down a dirt road surrounded by woods. It was bright with light wood and soft throw rugs. Rahne and I were in heaven.
* * * * * * *
“Mommy,” a little voice called after I fell asleep. Rahne turned and listened. “Mommy?”
“Your Mommy’s not here. Who are you?” It was a little voice coming out of me. A voice Rahne had not heard before.
“Mommy. I want my Mommy.”
“I’m here. My name is Rahne. But, your Mommy’s not here.”
“Where is she? I’ve been looking for her everywhere.”
“I don’t know where she is,” Rahne said carefully, “but, you’re here with me.”
Finally, the child went to sleep reassured. Before she slept, she told Rahne her name was Mandy, and she was three. Of course, in the morning, Rahne and I had one or two things to talk about.
* * * * * * *
Sometime during the next morning, Rahne said, “Ah, Joceile. Do you remember someone talking last night while you were asleep?”
“Oh yeah. I do remember. Can you tell me what happened?”
Rahne relayed the discussion from the night before. “She seemed pretty sweet and harmless.”
“That’s nice,” I said. Neither of us exactly admitted just what it might mean about me. We were on vacation after all.
* * * * * * *
A few nights later, there was a different voice in the middle of the night. Someone scared, terrified and wanting to scratch their face off requiring Rahne told hold my hands. He was older, more injured, and his name was Jesse. Jesse James, I thought, but still didn’t let myself think about what these new names might mean.
* * * * * * *
Rahne and I had a good trip full of making love, talking, walks, and exploring the island. With no telephone, just being alone together was restful enough. Except we weren’t quite alone with those little nighttime voices. Still, the time was a delight.