"GET OUT!" I yelled.
"Daphne, be reasonable," he pleaded. "It was nothing!"
"Nothing, huh? Nothing? Plastering your body up against some no-nothing in a bar?"
"It was just a night out -- she doesn't mean anything!"
"It means something to me -- you're just a waste of space! Get out of my life!"
"I didn't do anything!"
"I saw you! I walked in the bar! I saw it with my own eyes!"
"Daphne!"
"SHUT UP! I've had it with this! I can't live with you any more! I can't deal with the snide comments, the gaslighting, the constant belittling, the put-downs, the 'oh-I'm-so-much-better-than-you' constant one-upping! GET OUT!"
Raymond grew angry. "Listen, woman! I won't take any more of this! If you -"
I pushed against him, so that he staggered down the front door step and onto the garden path. "Get out, get out, get out! I can't stand the sight of you any more! Get lost!" I saw Eddie with the lawnmower out by the garden gate. He looked astonished.
Raymond shook his fist at me. "How dare you treat me like this!"
"Treat YOU?"
"I'm warning you -- now you've pushed me, I'll be back -- and I'll do a lot more than push you!"
"You dare lay a finger on me, I'll call the police! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" In a furious temper, I grabbed the front door and slammed it shut in his face.
Raymond continued to yell at me as I walked down the hallway of my own home towards the kitchen. Placing my head in my hands, I burst into tears. Raymond starting banging his fist against the door, again and again.
"Go away!" I wailed, hoping he couldn't hear me from this distance.
The banging continued for another thirty seconds or so. I sat down at the kitchen table and looked back at the front door. There was silence. The kitchen window was open and I could hear birds singing in the back garden. It was another sunny day in June, in pretty Summerville, South Carolina.
My family had lived here for generations, just like Raymond's, although his family were a lot more well-to-do than mine. Yet this house was new for me. My family's ancestral home was downtown but those houses were small and belonged to the historic area. After Granny died, Mom and Dad took over the 'main house' (as we called it, despite it being the smallest any of us owned). Granny Everson had left me part of her inheritance, which was double-sized since Grandpa died seven years earlier. She had given Grandpa's larger inheritance to the eldest and youngest of her three children, since they had relatively normal-sized homes but small families, with one child each, while she had given the house to Dad, her middle child, as his inheritance, but no money, figuring the house was worth more than any money she had (which was correct), because he had three kids. As for her own money, she shared it equally among her five grandchildren, of which I was the eldest of Mom and Dad's children. That money, together with the money I had earned in my twenties as a real estate manager in Charleston after I finished uni, meant that I could afford a mortgage on this place. With house prices on the up in Summerville and a new job closer to the family that paid well, I figured I would make a down-payment on this larger place in the 'burbs as an investment in the future.
However, my boss's contact at another firm had wanted me to meet Raymond, one of his employees at another real estate firm. I hadn't been too interested at first, yet he had been insistent, charming me and offering coffee dates. Feeling new in an area where I didn't know anyone, I guess I had been feeling overwhelmed, as we had quickly become an item. The sex was average but things had been OK until he lost his job, when he had started frequenting bars. We had often gone to bars earlier in our relationship, so I didn't think much of it at first. Then he started drinking too much, then I had heard rumors from people at work that they had seen Raymond with other women.
Last night I had shown up at the bar where he usually went and seen him making out with some blonde, and that had been the last straw. He had slept on the couch last night, but now this row. I don't know what to do any more, but what I do know is that I don't need this in my life. Everything had been great until I had met Raymond, and as far as I was concerned, he needed to leave my life now. I'm thirty-three and not a kid any more. I don't need this junk. He can find some other woman to be a loser to.
There was a tap on the back door. "Miss Everson?"
It was Eddie, the gardener. Bummer, I didn't want him to see me like this. "What is it, Eddie?" I called out.
Eddie poked his head around the open door. "I'm done for today -- but do you need to mow the back lawn on Wednesday?" He noticed my tear-streaked face. "Are you OK?"
I stood up from the kitchen table, and rubbed my forearm over my face. "Yeah, I'm fine," I said, not believing my own words 100%, but hoping they would be able to live up to reality in a short time. I don't believe in telling lies; but I do believe in future truths. "That would be great, thanks, Eddie. Same time, yeah?"
"Yeah, 8:30."
"Great." Eddie Dalton stood in the doorway, obviously wondering whether to intervene. His short mop of dirty-blond hair, sweat-stained green T-shirt filled out by a masculine, hard chest that had obviously seen some work in the gym, faded blue jeans ripped at the knees and scruffy, white sneakers emphasized a moderately handsome face, with slightly full lips, a strong jawline, aquiline nose and dark eyes set below a wide, wrinkle-free forehead that revealed his twenty-two years walking the face of the earth. Right now, though, that face looked concerned. "Is there anything else I can do to help?" he asked, gingerly.
"Not really, " I smiled, weakly. "Thanks for asking. I guess I'm old enough to handle my own junk. I don't need anyone else getting involved."
Eddie hesitated, fidgeted slightly, then spoke. "I think I need to tell you -- I saw your boyfriend Raymond banging on the front door. He kept it up for quite a while, so I came over to tell him to cool it."
"What!"
"He chewed me out with some choice words, but I told him to knock it off and get his backside moving out of here, or else I would call the cops."
"Oh, Eddie! You needn't -'
Eddie put up a hand. "It's OK, no sweat. He stomped up the path, headed for his car and drove off in a huff."
"I don't want you getting involved; you don't have to -"
"It's totally OK, Miss Everson; but he can't behave like that -- that's crazy behavior. You've got a right, and I figured he was stepping over the line. If he does it again, I think you should call the police. That's abusive."
"Well, I know that, but -- you didn't have to go to that trouble!"
"Don't worry about it -- it's no problem, like I said. I'm just concerned about what he might have done if I hadn't been here."
"I hadn't -"
"He might have come around the back through this door, and if you weren't in the kitchen..."
"Well, when you're not here, I keep the side gate locked," I explained.
"Still, if he was determined, he could try to climb over it -- I know it's a big heavy, wooden thing, and tall, but it's not impossible to get over it."
"Hmm, I'll have to be careful to lock the back door when I'm upstairs or at the front of the house," I thought, aloud.
"Right," agreed Eddie. He stood there, thinking for a moment, a worried expression. "Listen," he said. "I've noticed what time he usually shows up -- kind of 9:30 or mid-morning -- it would be no problem if you need me to swing by for an hour tomorrow, say, nine until ten, just in case he causes trouble -- it would be no charge -- I could do two hours Wednesday instead of three, and we would be even. I've got the free time."
I put up both hands, defensively. "Oh, well, I don't want you to go to any trouble, I mean -" Then I stopped. Come to think of it -- that would be handy. "Er, well, actually," I continued, wondering just how much trouble Raymond might become, "That would be kind of helpful -- not for a long time, maybe just a week or two or until this stuff dies down -"