by Randis, K. L
I shuffled my note cards and moved on. “The district attorney’s office. My victim’s advocate was the best thing that happened to me during my trial. I never had to ask what was happening before, during or after anything. And everything was explained to me in a way I could understand. Tour the courtroom before the hearing, and tell the child that it’s okay to show emotion and who they can look at when they’re sitting on the witness stand.
I was shy, and I couldn’t bring myself to say the words penis or rape, but let us know that those words are expected and we won’t get in trouble for saying them. My advocate also signed me up to receive alerts to when my dad was transferred to a different jail or anything changed in his status. It’s a relief to know where he is at all times.”
I looked around. “How many mental health or social service type agencies do we have in here?” A few people raised their hands. “Okay, this is for you, and for the schools. Confidentiality is everything. I had kids come up to me in school and apologize for what happened to me because they had mothers in the front office who knew all about it. That’s unacceptable. Counseling is what made the difference in how I coped with the trial both during and after. I am the only one of my siblings who sought help, and I am also the only one who doesn’t still live at home and actually has a healthy relationship.
My mom and siblings refused counseling after a few sessions, they didn’t want it. But then they wonder why they have so much tension and anger in their lives. They wonder why they have nervous breakdowns and call me in the middle of the night with the latest drama.
Programs need to be established, and required, to all of the families of these crimes. Just because I was the one testifying does not mean that I am the only one who needed help. I know my triggers, and what upsets me and now I know how to handle those things. My siblings are depressed, and go in and out of promiscuous or unhealthy relationships. They abuse drugs or alcohol and turn to food for comfort. Sometimes I felt like I sacrificed two years of testimony for nothing. My dad was out of the house and they still did all the same things, still treated each other horribly. They didn’t want to deal with it, and they haven’t. For years since I first came forward, I felt like the black sheep in my family. I don’t want to believe I set my expectations too high when it comes to having a happy life. Which leads me to my conclusion, you cannot change someone who does not want to change.”
I held up a finger. I needed this point to stick. “If a child does not want to tell, they won’t. If a family does not want to heal, they won’t. I wanted to heal, I wanted peace in my life and I wanted to tell. So I did. I thought my family would want the same, and it kills me that they have such great potential to thrive as a family and don’t. I lost a lot of sleep over that. I cried a lot over that. But at the end of the day, the only person I can make changes to is myself. No matter how much I tell them how liberating it feels to finally be as happy as I am.”
I looked around the room. “I was hesitant to come here today, I’ll admit. I asked my husband, what would it matter that I came in here and exposed myself one more time to these people. What’ll that change? Well, maybe it won’t change anything, but maybe it’ll inspire some of you to make changes in what you do. Maybe next time you’re faced with a young boy or girl and they’re about to turn their lives upside down and inside out to testify against someone that should have loved and protected them…” I shook my head. “Maybe you can tell them that it’s okay. That it’s worth it. And that you’ll help. Thank you.”
The audience jumped to their feet in applause. The conference room boomed with the sounds of freedom, and enlightenment. I scanned the room taking in all the men and women smiling in their suits and hoped, I prayed, that one thing I said made a difference.
Because if it did, then I’ll have done what I set out to do.
Chapter Thirty-One
Gina moved the probe over my swollen belly and shrieked. “Two little babies in there, that’s for sure. One for me and one for you right?”
I laughed. “Of course! Who knows maybe there’s a third one hiding in there somewhere?”
“Hope not.” Jason looked down at me and smiled. “Besides, you’re already more than four months I think we’d of seen it by now.”
“Ah everything looks great, just perfect. Okay, okay.” She squinted at the screen one last time. “Want to know what they are?”
Jason’s face twisted into a goofy grin. “Yes, but no.”
“We want it to be a surprise,” I said.
Gina’s mouth dropped open. “So I’m the only one who knows? Ah this is perfect, baby shopping time!” She clicked a few pictures and set down the probe. “Oh I can’t wait to meet them, the little bambino’s.”
She grabbed a rag and helped me clean off. “So that means you’ll have to pick out two boy names and two girl names. Just in case.”
“Yea, double the everything,” I said.
Jason helped me sit up and he stroked my belly. “Time to go home kids.”
We held hands as we cruised through town and pulled into our driveway. The due date was set for Jason’s twenty-fifth birthday and we joked about how easy birthday planning would be for the next couple of years.
A blue card was sitting on the table when we walked in. “What’s this?” I asked, reading the front.
“I think it’s from your brother. He’s getting out in a month or two isn’t he?”
“Hmm,” I said. I slid my finger underneath. I pulled out a thick card. ‘Sister’ it said at the top. I traced the laced inside as I read.
Hey sis, how’s life? Jail is fine. Actually it sucks and I can say with complete confidence I am never coming back. I’ve had a lot of time to sit in here, and think. Truth is, you’re my big sister and I can always go to you with anything. You’re extremely smart, beautiful, and so funny. You’re gonna make a great Mom cause your loving, caring, and pretty much would do anything for anyone without anything in return.
You went through hell to make sure I was safe growing up and made sure Ethan and the rest of us would be loved. You’re strong willed and go to the end of world and back for the people you love. You’re the best sister I could ever want. I miss you extremely and hope someday I show you how grateful I am for what you did for me and our family. I don’t know where I’d be without you Brooke, I love you.
Thomas signed it with his signature smiley face logo and drew a comical picture of a large lady holding her belly. An arrow pointed to it that said You. I laughed as I wiped away a tear and stuck the card to the bulletin board in the kitchen.
“He misses you extremely?” Jason said, raising an eyebrow.
“He barely graduated high school, give the kid a break.”
Jason cracked open a beer and pointed to the living room. “I might watch the game, want to join?”
“Oh sure, drink a beer in front of the fat lady.”
“You’re not fat.” He grabbed me by the waist and pressed his lips into mine. “You’re my beautiful, very pregnant, somewhat chocolate addicted wife.”
I rolled my eyes and whacked his butt. “You go ahead, I want to write for a little while.”
“All right baby, don’t work our children too hard, there are labor laws you know.”
Midge had passed away of pancreatic cancer six months earlier. She would never get to meet my children but I kept her picture on my work desk and planned to tell them all about her one day.
One of our last conversations played in my head as I sat at my computer. I had asked her what she thought about me going to confront Earl, to finally close that chapter in my life. I didn’t know what I expected from the conversation we would have but I did know I wanted him to show some kind of remorse, or to admit to what he did to my face.
“Child, you ain’t ever gonna get it,” Midge said. “And if you go there, you still giving him all the control. He can get up and walk outta that room if he wanted. He’d make you feel like you the one that did something wrong by coming to see him.”
“Yea, you’re probably right. He just had no emotion, no reaction when he was sentenced. Like he had nothing to say.”
“Maybe he don’t. But I’ll tell you what. You ain’t ever gonna forgive that man, and you aint ever gonna forget. I know you. You’ll put it behind you and you’ll move on, that I’m sure of. But I think he needs to know he didn’t ruin your life. That you out here with a fine husband, job you love, and remind him that he in there because of what he did to himself, not what you did to him. Best way to do that is to write a letter. Can’t walk away from a letter, he can’t interrupt you none and I am sure willing to bet he will read it front to back. So if you feel the need, you go ahead and write him what you feel.”
It was the last conversation I had with Midge. A co-worker called to tell me that she had passed, and that Midge had left me a small amount of money that she wanted me to use to take some time off of work and write about my experiences so that maybe it would help someone else. I owed that to Midge. Maybe I owed that to myself.
I powered up my laptop and waited for the humming to slow before I opened Microsoft Word. My fingers traced over the keys. I thought about the day I drove to New York when I told my aunt and uncle what was going on. So much had happened since then. I had so much to say, and I wasn’t sure how it would end, but I sure did know how it should start.
Hi Earl,
I bet you’re wondering why I’m calling you Earl…
About the Author
K.L Randis, author of Spilled Milk, has had numerous local publications that brought awareness to domestic violence. She is a graduate of Pennsylvania State University and an expert in the field of domestic violence.
In October 2010 she hosted a panel of experts to discuss domestic, sexual and gang violence and its impact on communities. She has provided her expertise to local media outlets and she became a spokesperson to local high school classes on teen dating violence. She was also named Community Woman of Distinction for 2011 by East Stroudsburg University.
She resides in the Poconos with her husband and daughter. This is her first novel.
Contact the Author:
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www.facebook.com/spilledmilkrandis