“I hate to see her like this,” Vivienne remarked. “I can't imagine how worrying and stressful it must be for you, as her father.”
“It is,” I replied. “Believe me, it really is.”
“Can I... can I ask you a question?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“Where is Jane's mother?” she asked.
I figured she would have eventually asked about this subject. It was alright; as touchy as it was for me, I was prepared to talk to her about it.
“She was here last night... briefly.”
“Oh.” Vivienne sounded surprised. I imagined, perhaps, that she likely thought that Jane's mother was dead.
“Yeah. Susan – that's her name – she and her boyfriend, Ricky, they stopped by. They were both a little drunk, probably just got out of some damn nightclub.”
“Ah... I see. So, you two are uh, you're divorced?”
“Yeah, we are. Susan walked out of our marriage when Jane was only a few months old. She never could accept that she needed to grow up and be responsible, and not even having a child seemed to be able to change her perspective. That jerk she's with, Ricky, he's a promoter for various nightclubs, so they always get in for free and get drinks cheap or free, too. They're both booze hounds; she always did love her drinking, but it got worse after she had Jane. And before you ask, she
did somehow manage to stay sober during the pregnancy. I think those were the toughest nine months of her life, though; no bottle to down every night for that long. I think that's what drove her over the edge and made her leave. I wanted her to stay sober. I mean, not be a teetotaler or anything, have a drink once in a while, but not hammering it every night like she was used to doing. She just couldn't do it, though. Just couldn't do it. Having a carefree, party-girl lifestyle was more important to her than me or her own child... so that's what she chose.”
As I had been speaking, Vivienne had slipped her fingers through mine, and now she was squeezing my hand tightly. I looked up and saw her staring at me with tears in her eyes and genuine empathy and compassion written raw across her face.
“I'm so sorry to hear that,” she said. “I know how hard that must be to talk about. I've got a story about my ex as well.”
It felt good to be able to open up about it. Of course, I wasn't ready to disclose everything just yet, and I suspected that she wasn't either, but this was a good start.
“Well, you can tell me,” I said, squeezing her hand softly. “If you want to.”
“I do want to. I’m not really sure why, but I do.”
She paused as though she were trying to muster the courage. So, I gave her hand still entwined with mine a gentle squeeze of reassurance. A moment later, she inhaled deeply and spoke.
“Well, first things first… I have to tell you is that my name isn't Vivienne.”
I sat up straighter, wondering where this was going. “Wait, uh... it isn't?”
“No. Well, it is now. I legally changed it. But my given name is Alicia.”
“Wow, alright. What made you change your name?”
“My ex, Simon, he's absolutely psychotic. When I was with him, he was terrifying. He was obsessive, controlling, wouldn't let me see any of my friends, banned me from speaking to any man besides him. Eventually, it got so bad that I had to get permission from him before I was even allowed to leave the house. That's how crazy he was. Then, when I tried to leave him, things got really scary. He threatened my life, and came after me with the intent to kill me. Unfortunately, I couldn't prove that he tried to kill me – he chased me around my friend's house with a hunting knife, but there were no witnesses, and I didn't sustain any knife injuries. He stalked me for a long time after we broke up. And I finally managed to get a restraining order against him. He broke it on more than one occasion, though; he didn't care. Every time he was able to wiggle his way out of it in court. He's very intelligent – which makes it even scarier for me. The only way I managed to get away from him was to change my name and move away. And that's how I ended up here.”
I nodded, trying to process all of this information. “Wow,” I murmured. “Umm. That's pretty crazy. I'm sorry it was so hard for you to get away from that maniac. You're safe now, right?”
I could see there was something else she wanted to say, a hint of fear or anxiety glimmering in her eyes – but perhaps she wasn't ready to tell me about it yet.
“Yes,” she said softly. “It's all over now. I'm fine; everything is fine.”
Chapter Thirteen
Vivienne
Talking with Everett was easily the most comfortable I’d ever felt with anyone aside from my dad. The conversation just flowed like we’d known each other for years. Opening up to him was second nature. It just felt right. Even if we were sitting in a hospital. Not an atmosphere typically conducive to intimate conversation.
After more talk about our exes, I considered telling him about the knot stuck in my stomach now that Simon had disappeared and no one seemed to know where he was. However, after seeing how Everett took such a proactive stance on things handling the drug problem at his school, I thought maybe it would be best if I just kept my fears to myself about that for the time being since all I knew was that Simon was MIA.