"Hey, Hon, why don't we stop over at E___ and G____'s after church today? We could pick up some chicken at Colonel Sanders and surprise them."
"Hey, Doll. G____ just called. Wants us to come over tonight and share some birthday cake."
"Come on, kids. Let's got visit E___. He hasn't been feeling too well."
"Guess who just called? Yea… it was G____. Let's pick up a movie and go over for some pop corn."
Over and over... calls back and forth... reasons to spend time together. And I looked forward to these "family-type" visits less and less. For a while, my husband didn't seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm, or my attempts to be busy with other things that kept me from being available.
But one day when he was planning a visit to our "extra set of parents", I tried to express myself when he asked why I didn't seem to want to go. I remember taking a deep breath and saying quietly…. 'he's not a nice man."
"What?" my husband said, as he turned to look at me.
"He's not very….." My phrase kind of faded out at the end.
J__ looked at me for a moment and then started to laugh. "Are you saying he's a dirty ole man?" He laughed again and patted my shoulder. "Hon," he said, "you crack me up! What a joker… that's a good one."
I could not say the words my husband needed to hear so he could understand why I didn't want to spend time in the very house where so much of the abuse was taking place. I was too weak… too much of a wimp… I couldn't just spit out the words when I had the perfect opportunity. I was too tangled up in a web of abuse and deceit… a web I had helped to spin.
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