In an effort to remove myself from the destructive environment with Leslie, I asked Rahne if I could live with her in her one bedroom house for the month of May. It seemed clear to both of us that Leslie and I were perilously close to physical violence. I knew I could ill afford to indulge my anger that way. In fact, I pushed Leslie back one Friday when she summarily changed her mind about my time with Adrian.
On the nights I had Adrian, Adrian started spending the night with me at Rahne’s. Adrian slept on a foam pad in a sleeping bag a few feet from Rahne’s bed. (The house was so small that she would have been just a few feet from the bed regardless of where she slept.)
My plan to wean Adrian from sleeping with me continued while I waited for the end of May.
* * * * * * *
The days slipped slowly by. Leslie, of course, showed absolutely no signs of moving out in a timely fashion. Towards Memorial Day, I could see the handwriting on the wall.
“Leslie, you have to be out by June 1st.”
“I might not make it exactly on June 1st,” she leered. “After all, I’m going to Port Townsend for the three day weekend.”
“If you are not packed by this weekend. I will pack your things myself.”
“Oh, really, can’t you be a little flexible?”
“No.”
On the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, I bought a box of big black garbage bags and commenced packing Leslie’s things. In a way, I knew it was better this way, because I could keep whatever I thought was mine. I carried each item, each stinking bag, each stick of furniture out to the carport and placed it gently with malice where Leslie could get it at her own convenience. Then, I changed the lock on the front door so Leslie couldn’t get her hands on anything of mine—in retribution or whatever. Leslie had told me that when she broke up with her first long term partner she had burned her partner’s poetry and cut up her favorite jeans. I wasn’t willing to chance it.
When Leslie came back with Adrian, she was out. I had to face the next pain—that of not knowing for sure where Adrian was when she was with Leslie. The only thing I knew for sure was that I was going to stick close and remain available. If Leslie tried to keep me from seeing Adrian, I would park my car in front of where ever Leslie was and sit there all night if necessary.
I knew that I had one very strong hand. I knew that Leslie could not stand to spend extended time with Adrian alone. As long as I remained available, my time with Adrian would come. I knew that Leslie could not parent without me and would not replace me as long as it was easier to just keep using me. It was not a pretty relationship. But to me, my relationship with Adrian superseded any garbage I might have to endure with Leslie.
* * * * * * *
Immediately, Leslie tried to conceal where she and Adrian were staying. But, she and I had too many friends in common for that to work. “I’m staying at Trina’s. She and Bob said I could stay as long as you didn’t come over and make a scene.”
“Well then, you need to make arrangements to give me Adrian.”
By now, we had a rudimentary schedule—something a kin to two nights with Leslie, one night with me. The other factor in my favor is that I worked part-time. Leslie worked full time and couldn’t cover Adrian’s care without me.
“Okay, meet me at the Arco station at Plum and State at nine o’clock tomorrow morning on my way to work.”
“Okay.”
I felt like a spy. Each time we met, it was at a different place. I would wait for the phone call at work telling me where to pick up Adrian. It wasn’t great, but it was something.
* * * * * * *
Meeting Leslie was a constant irritant. “I brought a box of things I think are yours,” she stated in the Arco parking lot.
“I don’t want them.”
“Well, I don’t want them. I think they’re from your mother.”
“I don’t want them.”
“What about this mug? Isn’t it Rice’s?” Rice was a good friend of mine who had lived with us during Adrian’s first year.
“I’m not taking them.”
Then, Adrian walked over to Rice’s mug. “This is Rice’s. Take Rice’s cup,” Adrian insisted plaintively. I bent down and took the mug out of deference to Adrian and Rice. “I’ll take this then, but nothing else.”
“You’re gonna leave it here.”
“Yes.”
“Suit yourself.”
Leslie and I both drove off in opposite directions leaving the box in the parking lot next to the dumpster for whoever should discover it or throw it away.
* * * * * * *
Eventually, Leslie became verbally abusive during these meetings. When she couldn’t get a rise out of me with needling or obnoxious questions, she would call me names as I left. “Okay, you fucking bitch.” I kept walking to my car. “Bitch.” I had no intention of putting on such a display in front of Adrian. “You bitch.” I slid in the car and left without responding.
I arranged to have people ride with me when I picked up or dropped off Adrian temporarily stifling Leslie’s verbal abuse. Leslie was too well bred to be rude in front of strangers. But, she had another idea. “If you bring someone with you from now on, when I see them, I will just drive off without giving you Adrian.”
“Then, you better treat me better.” I responded feeling like I was in a chess match: queen to king’s bishop seven. However, Leslie toned down a bit to her merely quiet offensive self.