Finding Sam (Featured)

Chapter 14 - Truce

I didn't see Erik for the next three weeks, and whether it was his decision to stay away or he was out of town, I didn't care. From here on, I wanted to keep everything strictly business between us, even choosing not to respond to the notes Erik continued to leave for me every Saturday morning. Maybe it was pride. Or maybe it was shame that he'd seen the bruise on my face, and that he called it right there and then.

He hits you.

So I kept the door leading to the house locked. I even withdrew money from the investment account that Eunice had left me, so I could pay Erik for allowing me use of the studio. I had a money order made out for the amount that I thought was more than fair, an amount that was more than I could actually afford. But I was being stubborn and even I knew it. But shame can do things to people's minds. It warps them from the truth, allowing them only to see what they want to see.

I still remember how pride and shame filled me when I left the envelope on his kitchen counter the weekend after I ran out of his house, praying Erik wouldn't be home, before rushing back into the studio and locking the door behind me. Then I packed my things for the day and headed for home, too afraid to find out what Erik would say when he'd see the money order. How I hated feeling like this, so scattered, so scared. So ashamed.

Erik could do whatever he wanted with the money, I thought, but at least I paid him. I still planned to use the studio for the rest of the month and after that, I'd have to continue painting in my garage or wait till the new semester began at the junior college so I could audit a fine art course.

So I set a goal for myself to come up with three paintings before I had to leave. The Manhattan Beach pier, Erik's house as seen from the beach, and the lifeguard tower. As part of the contracted payment we had both agreed to, Erik could pick whatever he wanted of all the paintings I had finished.

To complete a painting a week, I put Michael in daycare three days a week, and during the weekends, I slept on the futon, fueled by coffee, energy bars and ramen noodles. But still, even during the week, there was hardly any sign of Erik, even though I dreaded seeing him, not after the money order I had left for him.

I hated to admit it, but I missed him. I missed the way his smiles reached his eyes. Erik had a way of looking at me like I was the only person in the room, like I really mattered, even if it was just at that moment. But knowing how our last conversation had ended, and the sight of his perfect Serena entering his house like she lived there pushed the memories of his smile from my mind. That's when I told myself - like it were some mantra I'd repeat again and again - that I didn't need Erik's pity.

And I added another mantra to my inner list of things to do as well. I had to start fighting back against David - if not for myself, but for Michael. I did not want Michael to witness what he'd seen that Saturday night. Not ever.

So the Monday after David hit me, I began going down my long-overdue To Do list. First, I talked to my attorney, who wasn't pleased to hear about David's sudden changes in visitation schedules, especially the suspicion that he may have driven drunk with Michael in the car. Of course, David denied it, and afraid that he'd get back at me for informing the attorney, I made sure that my neighbor, George, was at my house whenever David came by.

Second, I requested a hearing to have the visitation arrangements revised. That would take time, the attorney said, who then advised me to keep a written record of every interaction I had with David.

I did not get to see Olivia that much either, and sometimes I wondered if Erik ever confided in her, if she knew of what had happened that night when Erik met David, and the morning after, when he saw my bruise. I even wondered if Olivia noticed it though even if she had, she had had no chance of telling me. With her house overflowing with guests, Zia Francesca and the other aunts and uncles who had flown in from Capri, she was swamped.