I was emotionally exhausted. I had a video call with the police detective for what seemed like a day and a half, but it was really an hour and a half. I didn't want to answer her questions. If Parker got in trouble with the law, he'd blame me.
Gail encouraged me to tell the truth. I suppose the truth showed on my face. Although it had faded, it was still obvious he bruised me.
When I asked if they would arrest Parker, she told me they were still collecting evidence. She asked about his past relationships. I suspected something with a woman in his building, because she was always staring at me. At first, I thought she was jealous, but then I wondered if she was pitying me.
"Do you think she knew he could be violent?" the detective asked.
"Maybe. I don't know anything anymore. He called her a bitch, but he calls all women bitch, except his mother."
Thinking of how degrading he was towards women, I grew angry. I felt foolish for being so blind.
After that long meeting, I went for my first walk on the beach. It was late afternoon, and there weren't many people enjoying the sand. I sat and watched the waves. The salt air filled my lungs as the ocean sounds surrounded me — the surf, the seagulls, the children.
I watched two children run in circles until they fell on the sand. They were young but too old for diapers. I observed the little girl who looked like she had a bucketful of sand in her bathing suit.
I felt drew to them, because they were full of joy. I imagined they only knew love in their innocent little lives. I longed to go back to that feeling.
I heard a voice call out. "Clara and Ian time to go."
I felt a sense of loss after they ran to their father, gathered their toys, and left my view. In time, I moved on too. I walked up a side street with cottages and houses on each side. Inside families were having dinner and living happy lives.
As I started making my way back, I stopped to take a look inside the store. The Landing appeared to sell a small selection of grocery and health and beauty items. There were tables with people eating. The board displayed a menu of breakfast items and sandwiches.
On my way out, I saw a corkboard with notices pinned to it - lawn mowers and kayaks for sale and services offered, like yard work. Then I saw a note card with scrawled writing: Babysitter needed flexible hours for Clara -4 and Ian -3.
It had to be for the same children I had just seen, who had made me feel happy, just watching them play. Without hesitation, I grabbed the index card with the phone number and walked back home.
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