Laurel

 

The metal door slams shut, and I flinch as my father walks over to sit in front of me. He gives me a hesitant smile before he picks up the phone next to him.

I remain stoic, staring somberly through the glass into his green eyes that are reflections of my own. I still can’t believe he’s in jail, and I’m even more shocked I’m here to see him.

The once admired man, in his late forties, appears older and thinner. He traded in his white lab coat for an orange jumpsuit. He also exchanged his prestigious physician’s title for an assigned prisoner number.  

He’s a criminal, and it’s still hard to fathom.

Pointing to the phone, he nods for me to pick it up. With a trembling hand, I do it and hold the receiver to my ear.

“Sweetheart, I’m so glad you came to see me.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart ever again. You lost that privilege when you plead guilty to violating those innocent women in your exam rooms.”

He exhales, his smile leaving the premises. That’s the only part of his body leaving this scary place.

“At least you came to see me. That’s a start, and I’m grateful. It’s lonely in my cell.”

“Good. That’s exactly what you deserve.”

“I see you’re just as angry as you were in the beginning, so what made you decide to come see me?”

“I need to know why. Why did you do it?” I hold my hand up. “No, don’t answer that. I can’t unhear what you say.”

“I did it because I had an illness.”

I laugh sardonically. “Had an illness? You’re still ill. At least, that’s what I tell myself. I have to believe a faulty brain caused your behavior. Not that you’re evil and deviant.”

“I’m still the caring father you once knew.”

I lean in closer to the glass. “No. You were never caring. A caring man wouldn’t have jeopardized his relationship with his wife and daughter. He wouldn’t have risked humiliating them and destroying their lives.

“Do you know Mom lost all but one of her friends? She’s probably standing by your side because she has no one else in her life. She’ll forever be pitied or shunned, and I’ll never understand how she found it in her heart to forgive you.”

“It’s called love, sweethe—Laurel. One day, you’ll understand. Your mother and I took a vow: for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.”

“Yes, and she’s been dealt the worst, poorest and sickest husband. Bravo for living up to your vows. I’m determined not to end up with a man like you.

“I only came here today to find out if there was something Mom or I did to make you throw away your life and ruin ours.”

Flattening his palm against the glass, my father says, “Laurel, you’re an angel in my eyes. Losing you has been the hardest part of this. Living in prison will be far easier than living with the guilt of hurting you.”

“You did hurt me, and I’ll never respect you again. Not ever.” I sit back in my seat, causing the phone cord to tighten. I need to get away from him.

“It was foolish of me to come here. What you did to your patients was because of your sick urges and lack of respect for humankind. It had nothing to do with me.”

“You can admit you came here to unleash your anger on me, and I deserve it.”

“Fine, I’ll admit it. You hurt and betrayed me.  You’re the reason I’m leery of trusting others. I want to trust a man right now, but I’m worried he’ll devastate me like you did.”

“I beg you to take one piece of advice from your father. Don’t let what I did ruin your future. Don’t let it hold you back or prevent you from loving someone.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t. This was your horrible mistake, not mine. I don’t know if you’ll ever hear from me again, so this is goodbye.”

“Wait, Laurel. I know I don’t deserve to ask this of you, but will you please come to my sentencing next week to support your mother? I hate for her to be alone in the courtroom.”

“I’ll think about it, but unfortunately for Mom, I’ll be praying in the seat next to her that you’re sentenced to many years in prison.

“I think a year or two for each of the seventeen women you fondled is the least you deserve and maybe a few extra for the victims who didn’t come forward.”

Before he can reply, I hang up the phone and flee to the door where the guard lets me out of the room. I’m physically free. Now, I need to find a way to let my heart be free, too.

 

***

After attending classes, visiting my dad and working an evening shift, I’m exhausted when I arrive home.

I notice Jason’s gone, and as I head to my bedroom, my insecure brain wonders if he’s with a woman. He said he wouldn’t see anyone else, so I dismiss the thought, choosing to believe him instead.

Collapsing on my bed, I close my eyes. I can’t stop thinking about my father and how I wish I didn’t love him. Visiting him stirred up sad feelings I’ve managed to keep locked away.

Anger is an easier emotion to manage since it can be passed off to others when we’re about to implode. Sadness, on the other hand, can’t be given away. It’s created individually, like guilt or grief.

Only time and our willingness to heal can move us forward, but sometimes, someone special comes along to walk with us on that journey. Maybe Jason’s my someone special.

Feeling overwhelmed, I curl into a ball and sob. I’m spent, having no more fight in me to hold the sadness at bay. I must acknowledge its presence before I can tell it goodbye.

My door opens, so I swiftly wipe my eyes. I try to stop crying, but once I feel my bed sink in and Jason’s arms wrap around me, I bawl. Bringing me to his chest, he plants kisses on my head.

I scoot even closer and allow him to see the rawest version of myself, a broken part of me I’ve never shown anyone. I didn’t have to until now–I always had my dad.

I take a breath, and my cries begin to fade. Jason tilts my chin, but I resist looking at him.

“I don’t want you to see my face.”

“But I want to see every part of you. I’m hoping it will give me the courage to show you every part of me.”

Sniffling, I let my swollen eyes meet his.

“What happened, Laurel?”

“I went to visit my father in jail.”

“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

I lower my gaze. “No. I unloaded my anger, but the hurt and sadness I can’t give him, and I wish I could. I wish I could hate him and not care, but that’s not me.”

“I’m sorry he hurt you.”

“It’s no one’s fault but his. I needed to see him to remember that. It was the only way I was going to trust a man again. I want to trust you.”

I brave looking up at Jason, and he’s staring down at me, his eyebrows drawn in as if he’s dumbfounded by my remark.

“I don’t know what to say. You put yourself through that to give me a chance?”

“Yes, but it needed to be done for other reasons, too.”

“Still…”

“Don’t let it put added pressure on you. I know I’m giving you mixed signals, so you do what you need to do. If you lose patience waiting on me and want to move on, I’ll understand as long as you’re honest with me.”

After pressing his lips to my forehead, he says, “I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to.” Feeling safe for the first time in ages, I lay my cheek against his chest and let him hold me. I hope that soon I’ll be ready to give him more.