Left at the Alter

“Why are you so passionate about domestic violence.” He softened the hold he had on me as he took in a deep inhale. 

“I watched my father beat the shit out of my mother for years. He would hit her. She would hit him back. And then he would beat thee shit out of her. He hit me the few times I got in the way afraid that he would kill her. At first, I couldn’t even hate him for it. I thought that it was just a mistake like he punished her too hard and maybe he could learn to not get so angry, ya know?”

I nodded but I knew nothing about domestic violence. The closest I had come was to someone threatening to hit me and despite his apologies the next day I smooth cut his ass off.  Now I knew that its existence had made him suffer.

“That bastard should be in jail for killing her. For tearing apart our family.” He continued. 

“I thought you said that she did it to herself?”, I touched his arm, knowing he was about to dive into some more of what he was not used to talking about.

“His actions caused her to feel like the only way out was death. The fact that someone else’s actions can have that profound of an affect….” He turned to look at me. His eyes appeared wet, but I couldn’t tell if that was from the story or the wine. “… that someone else’s actions can influence you to do some shit that ends everything. Do you know how far that rippled?” 

I shook my head. 

“I never wanted to fall in love as an adult.” He said.

I held him as he stared ahead and continued to speak of how it was coming to stay with Uncle Day and how his younger twin sisters handled it. I didn’t even know he had sisters, but he was spilling it all tonight. He was sharing things with me that he hadn’t shared with anyone. He thought that I was safe. He poured out his sadness, his weakness, his motivation and I listened with an open heart. I was smitten. 

---

Weeks had turned into months so suddenly it almost got past me.  I entered the office after one of my Breakfast dates and Marla had bad news written all over her face. Our supplies which had been on back order for the last month were still on back order and one brand we had waited a month for, they decided to discontinue. 

“Shit.”

“Wish that was it.” 

“What?” I asked hoping I had the capacity to deal with what she was about to say.

“You know the rep that was supposed to come and take notes on the progress.”

“Yes, he didn’t show the two times we scheduled him.”

“Well he thought that it was this morning and he is on the restroom.”

“Are you fucking kidding me.” I whispered loudly

She scrunched her nose and shook her head. 

“And he said our dimensions are off.” She added and I glared at her like it was her fault. 

The rep said that they had send out a counter letter regarding my sizes. They wanted me to bring it down some. Not as wide and not as tall. 

“I’ve already begun, I cannot change the dimensions now nor am I willing to fit the bill for the necessities needed outside of your unstated parameters.”

I was heated. At this point my work of art was about 5 feet and we planned for it to be a total of 15 feet when we were done. 

“I sent everything in on time. All the documents, letters and estimates you requested. I was approved, and I am not willing to suffer due to a mistake on your end. By you, I mean the people you work for, not you personally but if there is ever an entity to get behind and fight for it would be this one.”

“The money is not there.”

“It is unfair, unprofessional and unrealistic to ask me to fit the bill for items I have written documentation was to be provided to me. I have been working without everything I need for about 6 months now, having to throw my own money on a project that is supposed to be putting more money in my wallet,  not taking away from it.”

“I understand your anger, really I do but the money just is not there.”

“Funny, I had a conversation with your director of finance. He seems to believe there was more than that set aside for this project, no matter who would have won it.”

“You mean you talked to Ida? That man never answers or calls anyone back.” 

“Yea, except he tends to make an exception when he sees it is his daughter.” I sat back in my chair to let it sink in and watched as she squirmed some. I was tired of having this conversation and just wanted what should be mine. I only play wild cards when I need them, and it looked like now was one of those times.

“Look, don’t shoot the messenger. I can take back whatever rebuttal you would like, but I have to give you all of the information that I was sent with.”

“If you walked out of that office to come to my office with only one thing to offer me than someone did you a dishonor when they trained you. If you have something you’re saving, hoping you can just stick to your guns and be the one who saved the department some money, then you did not do your homework on me.

At this point I want full control over my project. The staff, the unveiling, the entirety. I can draft what that would look like and have it to you in 48 hours, but it is non- negotiable. My terms or I walk, sue, and sell my sculpture to someone else. They will buy it at top dollar because it is an amazing piece. Because they will be compassionate due to what you all have done to me and because I know people in pretty high places. You can tell them to call my bluff if they want to but given who I am and who I come from, that wouldn’t be wise. I think the most important takeaway is I need the first half of the money that was promised to me in seven days. After the transfer, our next meeting can be over zoom unless it’s a work in progress check and that can realistically be done over zoom as well.”