About midnight, my husband figured out I wasn’t home when he saw that the dog wasn’t in her crate. He started texting, asking where the dog was, and why wasn’t she in her crate. I told him the dog was with me, that I was DONE, and we had left. There was a VERY long silence after that. He eventually said “but you have have to come back – what are we going to do – the kids – me ?!?!” I could feel the heat start to rise all the way from my feet to my face and I started to slightly tremble with rage. “How many times have I told you I am not happy and things have to change?! I put in 30 years with you and that house and this family and I am sick of being everybody’s frickin’ stooge!” I hung up on him, then the texts started flooding in from my three kids and even my son’s girlfriend. There were concerned texts. Pleading texts. Furious texts. Blaming texts. Eventually I turned off the notifications, took a benzo and a sleep gummy and got a few hours of shut eye.
I had to check out of Chisholm’s by 11 a.m. But there was still the little matter of dealing with my job. The previous day I hadn’t shown up and knew they would be bullshit – especially the old man. Bill McDonough had been in the insurance business for 50 years and wasn’t going to give up the ship anytime soon. He was a nasty old school tyrant and made goddamned sure he got every cent’s worth of sweat out of me and my coworkers – along with a few “accidental” brushes with boobs or behinds when he squeezed by us in tight spaces. I called the office and my friend Sandy answered the phone. “Shit Linda, where the hell are you? You better get in here – McDonough is bullshit…he’s gonna kill you.” I knew I was screwed- now only having $114 to my name and at risk of losing my job. “Tell him I’m sick – I need a few days….please Sandy,” I needed to buy some time to think. At that Sandy was somewhat concerned, although she knew I was lying. “Are you okay? What is up with you?” We had worked together a long time and even the slight concern in her voice suddenly made me want to cry. “I’m fine, just need to figure a few things out – I will call soon,” and hung up afraid she would hear my voice start to shake.
As I was throwing the dog’s stuff back into a trash bag, getting ready to head out – Barbie called crying again and said that the toilets at her house were still blocked up and they were all going to stay her mother in-law’s house. “I’m so sorry Linda, but the old bag just won’t let one more person stay in her house.” For the first time I felt a jolt of fear and doubt. “Jesus Barbie, I am almost flat broke after one night at a motel – what am I gonna do?” Barbie was quiet for a minute then said “I might have an idea – I will call you right back.”
Since it was 11 a.m. I turned the keys in to the front desk and took Macaroon out to pee on the little patch of grass by the Chisholm’s sign, then got in the car. It was mid October, and there was a little chill in the air…soon there would be frost. Just as I was thinking about turning on the car to maybe put on the heat, Barbie called back. “I know this idea is a little crazy, but it is just temporary – til we get back into our house. My son’s friend, Skyler, has an empty bedroom in his apartment he is trying to rent out….” My stomach started to churn – renting a room from a 20 something year-old guy sounded weird and gross (I knew what my son’s rooms looked like after all). “He’s a little desperate – needs the money….but he’s a nice kid. Very polite.” I considered my options. Should I throw in the towel and go back home and just pick up where I left off? It was less than an hour away – I could be back at work getting chewed out by old man McDonough by 2 p.m Suddenly I found myself blurting out”Okay, I’ll take it!” quickly adding, “just for now of course until I figure something out. But will I have to share a bathroom?” Barbie took a deep breath and said “yes….with the other four kids who live there.” At that moment I realized I had probably ran away from one hell hole only to head into a worse one. But here I was with my belongings in the Fiesta, and the dog looking at me waiting for me to do something. “Alright – text me the directions.” And with that I steered the car onto Route 1, bound for Everett.
Linda LaRosa Carries On 