Our heated discussion began with a question: “Don’t you think leaving him in jail until he can post bond himself will teach him a lesson?” Candler asked.
“Maybe. But I’m not willing to risk it,” I replied.
“Risk what? Teaching him a lesson?” Candler asked.
“Not that,” I said.
“He needs to experience consequences. After all, he could have killed someone. He’s lucky he’s not in jail with charges for manslaughter,” Candler said, his voice beginning to harden.
“I’m grateful he’s not,” I said, pulling on a pair of jeans.
“Next time he might be,” Candler said, thrusting an arrow into my heart.
I glared at him, “Is that really necessary?”
“How do you think I got my head smashed in?” he said, moving into my physical space and raising his voice.
I walked past him to the closet, searching for a shirt, “So this is about your unresolved anger with the drunk driver who hit you.” I pulled a shirt off a hanger and slipped it over my head.
“No, it’s not!” he said, standing in the doorway of the closet.
“Really?” I said, slipping on my loafers.
“Damn it, Violet, you’d better stop and think before you go down and rescue your baby boy. You need to leave him there for a few days. Maybe that will straighten him out,” Candler said.
“Have you ever been to jail?” I asked.
“Of course not,” he said sarcastically.
“So it’s about your jealousy?” I replied.
“Just because the two of you have a private social club that I’m not invited into doesn’t mean I want him sitting in jail. I just think he needs to experience some consequences,” said Candler.
“The court will see to that,” I said. Squeezing under his arm resting on the door frame, his body blocking my exit from the closet, I added, “You’re obsessed with this private social club garbage.”
“You two like the same foods, the same movies and you have a language all your own that I’m not a part of,” he whined.
I turned to him, “Let’s see, we’ve been together four years,” I said pointing my right index finger back and forth at the two of us, “Joshua and I have been together 29 years. I raised him. Of course we like the same food and movies. Really!”
I moved into the bathroom. Pulling my hair back with a rubber band, I turned on the water to wash my face.
Candler, still naked, followed me into the bathroom.
“Stop and think,” he said.
“I have,” I responded.
“Damn it, Violet, he won’t learn a thing!”
“How do you know what he’ll learn? Suddenly you’re an expert on my son who you’ve spent, what, 2.5 minutes with since you met me?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Fair or not, it’s true.”
Candler began screaming, as I could tell by his facial expressions and hand gestures, but the sound of the train whistle blotted out his words.
“He’s my son,” I said. “And he’s frightened.”
“He should be,” Candler said. “Besides, you’re not going downtown in the middle of the night by yourself. It’s dangerous,” he said.
“Didn’t mother tell you, I’m always packing,” I replied without looking up from the mirror.
“Oh, my God,” Candler screamed, “You’re not going to take your gun down to the jail, are you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, “You can come with me.”
“Over my dead body,” Candler said, “I’m not helping you get him out.”
“What exactly do you want me to do?” I asked
“Leave him in there,” he said.
I turned to face him head on, “For how long?”
“Until he goes to trial,” he replied.
“What?” I said, my voice rising in anger. “That could be months. I’m not going to do that.” I patted my face dry and began applying my day face.
“So you’re going down in the middle of the night and bail your baby boy out of jail after he nearly killed someone drinking and driving?”
In my peripheral vision I could tell he was waiving his long arms around as he spoke. Some people speak with their hands, Candler spoke with his arms. Turning to face him, I realized his 6’2” naked frame with arms moving like the robot from Lost in Space was intimidating. I had grown up with this kind of man, a man who intimidated to get his way. I wasn’t going to have it.
“There was no accident. He didn’t nearly kill anyone! This is your imagination out of control. You need to get behind me or get out of my way.”
NOTE TO SELF: A younger man does not mean less controlling.