“No problem,” he said.
Half an hour later he said everything was hooked up and if I had any trouble, to give them a call.
“I usually like to test out the cable connection on the TV, but . . . “
I smiled. “That’s okay. Thanks.”
He left and I locked the door behind him, glad to be alone. His questions about my having a boyfriend had been unnerving. It made me wonder what I could do to make it less apparent that I lived alone.
I turned on my laptop and was online in no time. The first thing I did was check my email, but when I saw several emails from Trevor, my heart began to race. Hesitant to open them, I decided it would be a good idea to find out his mood. I knew just opening and reading the emails wouldn’t help him find me.
The first few emails had a sweet and loving tone, asking me to come home and be a family with him. There was no mention of his arrest or that I had taken my money back. As I continued to read the emails, the persuasive tone turned to anger and threats. The final email had been sent just that morning. As I read it, my mouth went dry.
Lily,
I know you think you’re clever in running from me and taking my money, but be assured that I WILL find you. You’re still my wife and you’re carrying OUR child. I have every right to be a part of that child’s life and I plan on seeing my child grow up. With or without you, I will be a father to my child.
You and I both know that you have NO ONE. You are on your own. NO ONE will help you. I hope you don’t sleep at night for fear that I will be watching. I will know when you give birth to OUR baby. I WILL use my rights as the baby’s father and I WILL take him and raise him. If you don’t cooperate in allowing me to be a part of our baby’s life, I will make sure that he will never know he had a mother.
Your LOVING husband,
Trevor
The fear that had pushed me to leave him came rushing back and tears coursed down my cheeks. I knew he spoke the truth. I had no one. I was completely on my own.
But would he really be able to find me? Would he really take my baby from me? I wrapped my arms protectively around my abdomen. I was in no hurry to have this baby—as long as it was inside me, he couldn’t take it from me.
He doesn’t know where I am and he has no way to find me. I never got around to changing my last name to his. He doesn’t know my social security number. He has no idea which way I headed when I left. For all he knows, I moved to New York.
Trying to think of any way he could possibly track me down, I felt reassured that I was safe. I just had to be careful. Feeling better, I saved all the emails Trevor had sent, but didn’t reply. The rest of the emails were junk and I deleted them. I thought about my good friend Alyssa. Right now, during the summer, she was probably with her parents and had no idea that I had left Trevor. Alyssa had tried to tell me that Trevor didn’t seem like a good person, but I had stubbornly ignored her.
I pulled up a new email, then sent Alyssa a brief message telling her that I had left Trevor and I was doing fine. I explained that I couldn’t tell her where I had gone, but I would keep in touch through email.
Next, I did a search for dog obedience schools in the area. I found one that would be starting the following week and signed up for it. Then I did a search for self-defense courses. The police department was offering a four-week course. I was worried that being pregnant would be a problem, but since I wasn’t showing yet, I thought it would be okay. And the peace of mind I would have in knowing some self-defense moves would be worth it. I signed up for the course, excited to learn how to protect myself.
Finally, I found the website for the local community college and pulled up the page to apply for Fall admission. I could get one semester completed before the baby came and planned to make the most of the opportunity.
Once the admission process had been started, excitement at the thought of going to school swept over me.
I can pick up where Trevor made me stop.
That night as I lay in bed, I replayed Trevor’s email over and over. I knew he must be very angry with me. The thought of his anger directed at me was terrifying. Having seen his anger in action, I knew he was capable of hurting me. I glanced at Greta, curled up in the corner, and hoped between her and the self-defense class, I’d be able to keep myself and my baby safe.
Chapter Six
I found the park where the dog obedience lessons were going to take place and climbed out of the car. Greta tugged at her leash as we walked toward the group of dogs and owners. I smiled at the other owners as they tried to control their rambunctious puppies. Greta seemed calm in comparison and I smiled like a proud mother.
One woman with a black lab seemed to be having an especially hard time.
“No, Chloe,” she said as the dog vigorously sniffed another owner.
I stifled a laugh, glad Greta wasn’t quite that friendly.
“I’m so sorry,” Chloe’s owner said to the other woman.
The other owner laughed. “That’s okay.”
“She’s a beautiful dog,” I said.
Chloe’s owner turned to me. She looked like she was in her thirties and had a mass of curly brown hair held in place by two large barrettes. “Thanks. She’s really sweet, just a little overly friendly sometimes.”
“Well, that’s why we’re here, I guess.”
“What’s your dog’s name?” the woman asked.
“Greta.”
“She’s a pretty dog too.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m Billi,” the woman said.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Kate.”
“Have you been to obedience school before?”
“No. In fact this is the first dog I’ve owned.”
“Really?”
“What about you?” I asked, holding tightly to Greta’s leash as she tried to get a closer look at the other dogs.
“I’ve been through this once before. It really helped with my other dog.”
“That’s good to hear. I’m really hoping I can get Greta trained.”
“Well, German Shepherds are really smart dogs, so I would imagine it shouldn’t be too difficult.”
We stopped talking as the instructor said he was ready to begin. An hour later I loaded Greta into my car, feeling pretty good about how well she had done. The next lesson would be the following week.
When we got home I played with her in the backyard for a while, then placed her in her crate before heading to the local paint store. Mary had given me permission to paint and I intended to put the stamp of my personality on my house.
I had a hard time deciding exactly which color to choose for the living room, but finally selected a blue-grey color. I also bought brushes and rollers and any other supplies I thought I would need. Fortunately I had painted before—when I lived with Dad we had painted several rooms in our house—so I knew what I was doing.
Excited to make the house my own, I hurried home, let Greta out of her crate, and set out my supplies. After dragging the couch into the middle of the small room, I laid out the drop cloth to protect the wood floor.
Greta immediately grabbed a corner and began dragging it, certain we were playing a game. I couldn’t help but laugh. “No, Greta. This is for painting.” I tugged on the drop cloth but that only made her pull harder. The cloth ripped and Greta sat on her bottom with a thump. I laughed harder at the surprised look on her face.
She began shaking the fabric in her mouth like it was prey she was trying to kill.
“Okay. Enough of that.” I gently removed it from her mouth. “Back in the crate with you.” I put her back in her crate and repositioned the covering on the floor.
Greta barked, wanting to be with me, and I didn’t know what to do. I hated for her to be unhappy, but I certainly couldn’t paint if she was allowed to run loose. Her barks turned to whimpers. I went upstairs and got her pet bed and set it in the dining room where she’d be out of the way but still able to see me. Then I secured her leash to one of the
legs on the dining room table and attached the other end to her collar. Setting a toy on her pet bed, I was able to get her to lie down.
I placed painting tape around the ceiling and baseboards, then I poured some paint into the tray, dipped the roller into the paint and started covering the wall. After covering a large area, I stepped back and admired my work. I loved the color—it relaxed me. Within an hour I had finished the first coat.
After cleaning up, I took Greta out back and watched her run around while I sat on the porch steps.
I need to get a chair for back here.
I mentally added that to my list of things to buy. As I thought of the items I wanted to buy, I knew it would soon become critical that I have a job. I went inside and grabbed my laptop and brought it outside, then pulled up a job search website. Most of the listings I found required a degree—not that I had the skills they wanted anyway—but it soon became apparent that I would have to set my sights much lower. Pulling up the websites of local retailers, I filled out several online applications and submitted them, hoping for the best.
Next, I found the site for the Reno newspaper and searched for information on Trevor’s arrest. There was a short article about two men being arrested for motor vehicle thefts, but it didn’t list their names. I could only assume the article was about Trevor and Rob. Then I pulled up the website for the jail but couldn’t find anything with Trevor’s name. I saw several arrests, but the names were blocked for privacy reasons. I wondered if his was one of those.
In any case, he clearly was no longer in jail or he wouldn’t have been able to email me. Every time I thought about him searching for me, panic engulfed me.
What if he finds me? Will he hurt me or try to convince me to be with him?
The unknown scared me more than anything.
Later that evening I painted the second coat on the living room walls. Pleased with the results, I decided to work on the nursery next. First thing the next morning I went back to the paint store and picked out a soft green paint. I figured that color would work for a boy or a girl.
Once home, I carried the supplies up to the baby’s room. With no furniture in the room, it was the perfect time to paint. I put Greta in her crate downstairs and she didn’t bark this time—probably because I was upstairs and she couldn’t see me. I spread out the drop cloth, taped off the ceiling, baseboards, and window frame and set to work.
After I finished the first coat, I decided to paint the closet. I wanted to take the closet doors off and struggled to get them off the track, but finally removed them and placed them in the hallway. This was the first time I had taken a look inside this closet and immediately noticed something strange. There was a small door in the bottom right corner of the closet wall. It was about four feet high and two feet wide. A small latch hung next to it, but it wasn’t hooked. And I could see light seeping in around the edges of the miniature door.
Chapter Seven
There was no handle or knob, but I was able to use my fingers to grip the edge and pull the door open. I knelt and peered into the space. Light poured in. I had to crouch to get through the opening, but once through I was able to stand. The room was nearly as large as the baby’s room and the light came from a window. As I thought about it, there were two upstairs windows in the front of the house, but only one in the baby’s room. Obviously this was the room that housed the other window.
A thick layer of dust covered the floor. “I wonder why this room doesn’t have an entrance from the hallway.”
Does Mary know about this place? Should I ask her? The room’s a good size. Is there some way I could put it to use?
I turned around and looked at the way I had come. I visualized the outside entrance with stacks of boxes against it, making it invisible.
A panic room. That’s how I can use it. It won’t be like a real panic room—the walls aren’t made of reinforced steel or anything—but it’s a hidden room. A place where I can go if I feel threatened.
A place where I can hide from Trevor.
And that’s really what it came down to. I wanted a place where I could go if Trevor showed up.
The paint job in the baby’s room forgotten, I went downstairs and got the broom and dustpan and brought them back to the secret room. I opened the window to help with the dust I was sure to create, then carefully swept, trying to minimize the dust in the air. I had to get a trash can in which to dump the dust piles, but after several passes across the wood floor, all but a thin layer of dust was gone.
Next, I got the mop and a water-filled bucket and mopped up the remaining dust.
“That’s much better,” I said.
The walls looked like they were off-white, but could use a wipe-down. I got fresh water in the bucket, along with a sponge, and proceeded to wipe down the walls. By the time I was done, I was soaked with sweat, but the room couldn’t be any cleaner.
I wanted to bring something soft to sit or lay on, just in case I needed to actually spend time in there. The doorway was too small to bring in actual furniture, but a medium-sized bean bag chair would work.
My mental list was growing, so I decided I’d better start writing down the things I needed to buy. I put all the cleaning supplies away and then found my notepad and started a list. A knock at the door sent my heart into a gallop and I almost rushed up the stairs to hide in my panic room.
“I’ve got to calm down,” I murmured.
Greta had started barking at the knocking, and I debated whether to let her out of her crate, but decided not to.
As I approached the front door, I saw a familiar car in the driveway and felt myself relax.
“Mary,” I said after I opened the door. “How are you?”
“I’m doing well. But I wanted to see how you’re settling in.”
“How thoughtful of you. Please come in.” I closed the door behind her as she stepped into the living room.
“This color is lovely, Kate.”
I smiled, proud of my paint job despite the uncomfortable feeling when she used my fake name.
“This place is really shaping up.” She turned to me, then she turned toward Greta’s barking. “And what do we have here?”
Greta’s barking grew more insistent. I followed Mary into the dining room where Greta was locked in her crate.
“May I let her out?” Mary asked.
I nodded and watched as Mary unlatched the crate. Greta bounded out and nearly knocked Mary over.
“Greta, no!” I scolded, embarrassed by my puppy’s behavior. I was able to grab her collar and keep her from jumping on my guest.
“It’s all right, Kate. She doesn’t know any better. She’s just a puppy.” Mary leaned down and scratched Greta’s chin.
“We started obedience school yesterday, but I think it will take a while for her to learn her manners.”
Mary laughed, then she looked at me more closely. “You’re awfully dusty.” Her eyes seemed to twinkle. “You didn’t find the secret room, did you?”
She smiled when she asked, so I didn’t think I had done anything wrong. “As a matter of fact, I did. I found it when I was painting the baby’s room.”
“I’ll bet you were surprised.”
Squatting next to Greta, I looked up at Mary and nodded.
“I know exactly how you felt. Shortly after we moved in, my husband found it too. We asked our realtor about it, but all she knew was that the previous owner was a bit eccentric and had it built that way. We’d intended to make it into a regular room by putting an entrance in the hallway, but by the time we needed the space, we’d bought a larger house and never got back to the project.”
“Have your previous tenants asked to have it changed?”
“There have only been two other tenants before you. One was an older couple and they never mentioned it—I’m not sure they even knew about the room. And the last tenant was a single gentleman. He discovered the room, but didn’t need the space, and didn’t want to be bothered by any renovations. What abo
ut you, Kate? Would you like to have it converted into a regular room?”
“No,” I answered, a bit too quickly. “No, it’s fine. I have enough space without it. And anyway, maybe when my baby gets older he or she could use it as a play area.”
“All right then.” Mary glanced into the back yard. “By the way, you’re welcome to plant flowers or vegetables in the yard if you’d like.”
“Well, thank you,” I said as I stood. “I may do that.” I let go of Greta’s collar, but she stayed in place.
Mary placed her hand on my arm. “I just want you to make this your home, Kate.”
When I saw the compassion in her eyes, a lump formed in my throat. I nodded in response, afraid if I opened my mouth I would burst into tears.
“I’ll let you get back to your painting, dear,” she said, pulling her arm away.
“Thank you for everything,” I managed to say.
She nodded and walked toward the front door. I followed behind her. She opened the door, then said, “If you need anything, you just give me a call.”
“I will.”
With that, she left. I locked the door behind her, then took Greta out back to let her run around for a while. I threw the ball for her, and when she was panting I led her back inside and to her pet bed where she curled up, but kept her eyes on me as I fixed myself lunch.
After I cleaned up, I wanted to keep working on the baby’s room. Though I wanted to leave Greta out of her crate, I wasn’t sure what she would do and I didn’t want her to be underfoot while I worked. Regardless, I decided to give it a try and let her follow me up the stairs. I set her pet bed in the hallway, just outside the door, and invited her to lay down. Not surprisingly, she declined, instead going around the room, sniffing all the edges. It didn’t take long for her to discover the secret room, especially since I’d left the door open.
She scampered inside and I crawled in after her. I let her get familiar with the place. After a few minutes I encouraged her to come back into the baby’s room. When she did, I closed and latched the door. I got her to lay on her pet bed, but as soon as I started rolling paint on the closet wall, she became curious and trotted over to investigate.
Lily's Story: The Complete Saga Page 27