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What should I do?
Maybe he won’t hit me this time.
If I show him how much I care,
Maybe he’ll change.
I wish I knew what to do.

Rialto, California...

Keira Dennison sported a very painful looking black eye, and her eyes were red from crying.

“Keira? Look at me…“ Joey Yan sat on the couch next to her; his expression one of great concern.

“I’m alright… I’ll be okay.” She said it but her lowered head said otherwise.

“That’s what you said the last time. You can’t keep letting him do this to you.” Joey thought about grabbing her chin and softly lifting it up, but she didn’t need one more man laying a hand on her. He leaned closer and spoke in a near whisper.

“Honey…you need to get some help. He’s not going to change; not for you, not for anyone until he gets help himself, and that won’t happen if you keep letting him do what he does.”

“Where can I go…he’s the only one who cares about me….” She cried but stopped and gasped.”

“I’m so sorry, Joey…I didn’t mean it that way. You and Neil have been so good to me…since, you know.”

“I knew what you meant, Keira…it’s just we care about you.” Joey and his partner Neil had been like big brothers…well more like a big sister and a big brother to Keira since she moved to Rialto after college. She had been welcomed home by her parents, but the constant bickering and her father’s outbursts made it too painful to stay.

“Listen…we’ve got plenty of room, sweetie. Come stay with us. There’s a support group that meets in our church that you could go to, and I could always use some help in the store. You’re a whiz with cameras and photography.”

“But…maybe if I change. I can dress nicer.” She looked down at the blouse and jeans she was wearing; pretty much what she could afford since she wasn’t allowed to keep her own money.”

“Sweetie…you could wear Vera Wang and he’d still hit you. It’s not about you...it’s about him…he can’t control himself. You said it the other day; he’s just like your dad…you grew up around this…” Joey shook his head and bit his lip out of frustration. Joey met Keira’s father the day she moved from Sacramento, and found the man to be charming and handsome.

Keira’s mother, on the other hand, was almost a cipher; nodding and smiling for the most part, and agreeing with everything Keira’s dad had to say, but the nearly blank look on her face reminded Joey of his own mother, and Mr. Dennison was just like his dad. They both presented well to the outside world, their true selves remaining hidden, like some devious pod person from another planet.

“I really need you to promise me to consider this. You don’t deserve to be hit…Hell, nobody deserves it.”

“Look…I gotta get home…he’s working late, and I want to have something special for dinner for him when he gets home, you know. Maybe if I wear a dress…I’m sure he’ll like that.”

“Keira…listen to yourself. He nearly broke your eye socket with that punch and you’re worried about what to wear. The last time he hit you he nearly broke your arm. What will it be tonight? Chicken Kiev and Donna Karan and a ruptured spleen?” Joey regretted the attempt at humor.

“Listen…I’m sorry. After Neil you’re the most precious person in my life. I just made a stupid joke.” Joey began to tear up. He looked away, but only for a moment.

“He’s going to get worse if he doesn’t get help. Every day you stay there you put yourself in danger. You are a very nice girl who is convinced that you’ll never be able to find someone if you leave him.”

“But I love him, Joey. He’s the only guy I know that would put up with….” She quickly glanced downward out of habit, her own eyes filled with tears.”

“First of all, you are not someone to be ‘put up with.’ You are a sweet and caring girl that is as kind as the day is long. Any guy would be blessed to have you in his life. He’s not the only guy… he’s just the first and only guy because you can’t imagine anyone else…you’re just like my mom…you feel like you deserve to be hurt.”

“I’m not…he says I’m lucky that he cares or I’d be all alone.”

“But that’s just it, Keira. Whether he intends to or not, when he says things like that he just tears you down. It’s like you’re out in the middle of a lake and you’re sinking…you keep bailing water and he keeps poking holes in the bottom of the boat. Please…you don’t deserve it…you don’t, and you need to know just how valuable you are…to me… to Neil…and to God.

“He says that God doesn’t care for me…not since I… changed.” She glanced down again.

“God never stopped loving you, Keira. That doesn’t make sense. It would mean that God cares less about you than he does. God won’t forgive you but he will?” Joey was getting frustrated, and he was so afraid that she’d return to Richie.

“I don’t know what to do. Oh, Joey...I'm such a screw up...”

She lowered her head and gazed at her body, once again feeling inauthentic and false. She saw no future without him and she never would have much of a future with him. She was so entangled that she couldn’t really pull away without leaving part of herself behind. But staying would mean her own emotional garden would get choked with his weeds. Joey took a deep breath; if he was too firm it would be a duplicate of Richie’s control. Too soft and he feared he’d lose her for good.

“Keira…look at me…please.” This time he did cup her chin softly. He raised it and placed his palm on the side of her face.

“You are not a screw-up! You are an intelligent and kind and pretty woman. You’re just as precious to me as my own sister and you mean the world to me. I’m telling you as a brother and a friend; you know what you need to do. It will hurt worse than any punch he ever threw, but it will be over. If you stay with him he’ll kill you. He might not kill you outright, but he’ll kill you every day…just the same as if you died…and you’ll end up just like your mother and mine. You don’t…” He started to choke up.

“You don’t have to die, Keira. I want you to live…Please live for me? Come and live with us. Please?”

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That evening...

The door bell rang; it was almost like clockwork as it chimed at 6:30 pm. Joey got up from the couch and walked to the door. Opening it, he discovered a very imposing figure on the landing. The man was dressed in the dark blue uniform of the Rialto Police Department.

“Hi, you must be Richie,” Joey said, holding out his hand.”

“Oh, hi. Joey? We talked on the phone. Keira’s mentioned you. Nice to meet you.”

Joey’s first impression was entirely as expected. The man was charming and handsome.

“I’m here to pick up Keira,” he said as he glanced over Joey’s shoulder looking for her.

“Well, gee, Richie, but I’m sorry; there’s been a change in plans.”

“I don’t understand…I thought you said she was here.” The man maintained control, but his expression belied the calm voice as his frustration was immediately apparent.

“Oh, you’re not mistaken…she’s here. She’s just not coming.” Joey smiled warmly; his intent was earnestly polite and conciliatory.

“Did you folks have plans? I wish you’d mentioned that while we were on the phone before.” His face almost resembled a pouting child who was about to get angry. Richie was used to getting his way, and rarely faced disappointment; at least in his personal life.

“Oh, Keira does have plans.” It was almost priceless. Just then Keira walked out of the kitchen and up to the front door. She took a deep breath, as if she were on the high board getting ready for a dive.

“Hi, Richie. How are you?” She smiled.

“When will you be ready to come home?” No hello, no ‘hi honey.’ His level of tolerance was set to nearly zero and his impatience showed immediately.

“I’m not coming home.” She winced only slightly out of habit but shrugged her shoulders in resolve for the inevitable,

“What do you mean…We had plans.” He almost mewled, but in a deep baritone, like a sick lion.

“No…Richie…you had plans. Remember? I was going to start the review class for the GRE tonight but you called the school and canceled for me.”

“Well…I’m sorry.” The ‘I’m sorry’ that is spoken only to avoid conflict and not express remorse; Richie was very good at apologizing insincerely even as he demonstrated once again a need to be sorry.

“No you’re not.” She surprised herself.

“Look,” he said, completely ignoring her. “I’ve got reservations for that restaurant we like, and..’ She held up her hand and spoke.

“No, Richie. Not tonight…Not any night.”

“What are you saying?” The question that demands an answer for, not for what was said, but for what was unsaid.

“I’m not coming home, Richie. I’m leaving you.”

“What do you mean? Leaving me? You can’t do that…Where will you go…who will take care of you.” The standard arguments.

“That’s not your concern anymore.”

“The hell it’s not! You need to stop this nonsense and come home. Now!” His anger was no longer hidden behind his charm, and it was actually frightening to watch the quick transformation. She stood her ground.

“Listen…you need to get in the car.” He pointed to the patrol car outside; almost as if he were arresting her instead of escorting her home.

“No, Richie. Not after this.” She pointed to her black eye, which had darkened and grown a greenish purple.

“Look, I’m sorry about that…I promise I’ll get help…we don’t need to talk about this in front of your friend,” he went back to pleading.

“NO! Not anymore…you’ve been promising for a year now.”

“But this time it’s different. I promise.”

“No, Richie.” She folded her arms and turned sideways to avoid his glare. She was struggling not to cry, and Joey noticed.

“I’m sorry, Richie…she’s made her intentions quite clear. I think it would be best if you left.” He put his hand softly on Richie’s arm. Richie pulled it away.

“Listen…” He went to add an expletive but thought better of it.

“This is between her and me…I think you should mind your own business.”

“But this is my business; Keira is like family to me, and I won’t have you abusing her any longer.” Even though Joey was nearly six inches shorter than Richie, he stood taller at that moment.

“I’m telling you to mind your own goddam business.” The charm departed completely and the rage began to take over.

“Please leave, Richie…I’m not coming home…it’s not home…” She realized at that moment without voicing the words that it had never been home. Richie went to step past Joey toward Keira but Joey stood his ground.

“What…are you going to try and stop me?” Richie laughed sarcastically as his bullying personality was completely unmasked. Just then a figure stepped out of the kitchen, almost on cue.

“We are.” Richie looked at the man behind Joey and Keira and his face turned white.

“I believe the young lady has made her intentions clear, Sergeant Womack.” Standing tall and resplendent in his own Riato Police Uniform was Chief Donetti…Chief Neil Donetti, Richie’s boss and Joey Yan’s partner.

“Um…Chief…I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Richie blurted out.

“Listen carefully, Womack…Do you think you can do that?” Neil tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t hide his appreciation for the moment and grinned just a bit. Not waiting for an answer, Neil continued.

“I’m going to say this once. Restraining orders seem to be as worthless as the paper they’re printed on. I, on the other hand, hold your future in my hands and I also carry a weapon, which for the most part I am loath to un-holster. However, if I find you within a mile of this young lady, I might reconsider my decision. You can turn around and go home.

I will arrange for Keira to come to your home to pick up her belongings with me and my partner’s help. You will be out of the home at the time we arrive, and I will call you to let you know we have departed. Don’t answer. Just nod and back out quietly.”

Richie went to speak and Neil held up his hand.

“Leave, Womack…Now!” With that he was out the door and gone.

Joey turned and breathed a sigh of relief only to find Keira leaning against the wall, sobbing. They all had expected it would be painful. He stepped closer to her and hugged her from behind. She turned and put her head on his shoulder like any little sister would do with her big brother. Neil walked over and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"I still love him...Oh god, I still love him."

"I know, honey...I know." Joey said, trying not to cry.

“It’s going to be okay, Keira…I promise,” Neil said softly; exactly like a big brother.

And in time it would be…

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Will I ever be whole?
Even after all this time?
Can I find myself?
I wish I knew love

Eisenhower Senior High School, Rialto, California, several years later…

Keira walked slowly down the Administration hallway, almost in a daze. Holiday time continued to beset her despite the huge strides she had made over the years. But while she no longer considered herself a victim, old ideas remained, leftovers from Christmases past that always ended with disappointment over the abuse in her family. And now the doubts and insecurities came at her intensely like too-early Carols the day after Thanksgiving.

“Ms. Dennison?” She heard a familiar, friendly voice call from behind

“Yes?” Keira turned quickly to find Marie Gonzalez standing in the doorway of the Guidance department. The woman smiled, but beckoned urgently with a wave of her of her hand.

“Mrs. Rodriguez needs to talk with you.” Keira nodded even as an old emotional default tried to insert itself .

“She wants to talk with me,” she thought as she quickly set aside that old fear of being talked to. She walked up and knocked on the slightly ajar door to Anita’s office. Keira entered and closed the door behind her.

“Oh, Keira… One second?” She held her hand up and smiled before returning her attention to her phone even as she motioned for Keira to take a seat. Even though it was indeed an invitation, she still felt like she had been summoned to the Principal’s office instead of a meeting with the head of Guidance.

A few moments later, Anita clicked off her phone and turned her attention to Keira and half frowned, but spoke in a near whisper despite the closed door.

“Trish Cavaleri is at the nurses’ office. She… Mr. Denali was concerned and somehow managed to convince her to get the nurse to check her out. She’s been late the past three days to her first bell classes, and she always… According to Mr. Denali and Moira Parker, Trish looks upset and even…”

“Moira said Trish almost looks fearful,” Keira said with a shake of her head.

“You don’t suppose she’s… Well, since the District has reiterated its gender inclusion policy…” Anita frowned. No Tolerance policies never stopped anyone from being unkind the first time, since school bullying almost always seems to be exercised on a rotating basis.

“There have been a few remarks, but for the most part, the kids have either been accepting or at the very least oblivious to her and the Dubrano boy.” Keira pursed her lips in frustration.

“I am more concerned about her…” This part always felt emotionally dicey. A few of Keira’s colleagues knew about her past, and tried very hard not to make her the go-to gal for students with gender issues ,but since she had done a few assemblies about domestic violence over the last few years, her history as a survivor of abuse was no secret. Nevertheless she cringed. The same emotional default again shoved hard as she felt unworthy and incapable even now.

“Keira? We’ve know each other since college. I don’t want to press this burden on you, but all the same, you know exactly how Trish might feel about herself. Keira nodded slowly but put her head down.

“None of that. You might find that your presence in this department is, as someone once said, ‘for such a time as this?’ And what is it that you tell the kids you help?” Anita knew but urged Keira to repeat her words.

“I’m just another hungry person, but I know where they keep the bread…” It was an old saw she learned from a dear friend, a bit corny but true enough to give to kids who not only did not know where the bread was, but probably felt guilty about being hungry in the first place.

“I’ll wander down to the nurses’ office,” Keira said with a half smile. She stood up and went to leave, but Anita waved.

“I’m sorry.” Keira tilted her head in question.

“As long as I’ve known you? I want you to remember that you are so much more than your experiences. That no matter what? You have to remember that you need to remember exactly what you give to the kids you need to take for yourself. You are important, Keira, just because of who you are, okay?” Anita smiled warmly and Keira nodded. Anita sighed in frustration as she was left once again with a hope that her words would finally sink in.

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The nurses’ office, several minutes later…

‘Knock, knock?” Keira said as she walked into the office. Jana Shah walked out of one of the side rooms and offered her hand.

“Trish is lying down. She was fine until I asked her how she was and she began to cry.” Jana sighed and frowned.

“She has some bruises on her wrists, but you know the deal? That her brothers were just playing? I’ve met one of her brothers and he’s not a big kid. I am not convinced...” Jana did not want to make any assumptions, but the bruises coincided with a complaint by Trish’s friends about the boy she was seeing.

“I’ll just pop in?” Jana nodded. She had seen too many kids and even some of her girlfriends deal with this. Thankfully, many of them got help, but it was still unacceptable that some didn’t, even if that number was decreasing. Keira smiled and walked into the other room, leaving the door open, failing to notice the widening smile on Jana’s face.

“Trish?”

“What?” The girl was now sitting up on the cot and she quickly turned her head to the wall.

“Ms. Shah said you’ve been crying.”

‘It’s my time of the month,” she snapped sarcastically, even as she stared down at her body in an almost scorn.

“I’m sorry, Trish.” Keira paused, measuring her next few words. No one had any success to this point, but at least Phil Denali and Moira Parker had convinced her to visit the nurse. A silent cry for help?

“I can see you’re not up to talking. I’ll be in my office…” Keira deliberately let her voice trail off. She had no intention of leaving, but Trish didn’t know that. The girl turned around sharply, and Keira could see that Trish was still crying.

“No…don’t…Please?” Trish’s expression was a mixture of sadness and fear. Keira nodded and grabbed the chair next to the cot and sat down, but keeping a bit of distance between them, leaving the girl with a measure of control over their interaction. Too many times in her own past, even well-meaning people tried to control Keira’s own path to safety. Trish needed coaxing and not demands.

“I’m…” The girl stammered and dropped her gaze to the bruises on her wrist. Instead of asking what happened, Keira raised her eyebrows just a bit and offered a sympathetic half frown.

“That must hurt.” The observation almost seemed to hearken more to the girl’s angry view of herself than to the physical evidence of harm. And of course that inner harm that wasn’t limited to the physical abuse.

“I…” Trish continued to stammer, evidence that something important was fighting to escape the emotional prison the girl had been in. Keira continued to offer sympathetic nods along with ‘It’s okay, Trish.’ The okay that is not foolish enough to minimize the pain but rather to wisely allow the expression of the girl’s sadness and fear.

“T…Tito….” She once again stared at her wrists. The feeling that wanting her boyfriend to let go of her wrists slammed hard against her fear that he’d let go of her altogether. Keira winced inside as she recalled her own lack of self-worth that convinced her that even angry and hurtful contact was better than no contact at all.

“It hurts so much…” Keira said as she looked Trish in the eye, almost ignoring the marks on the girl’s wrists. As long as Trish could not see her own inner pain, she might never walk away from the abuse. But she needed understanding and not guidance, at least not in that moment. And evidence of understanding could only come from Keira being vulnerable herself.

“I…I remember when my boyfriend told me…” Keira paused, hoping that the girl wouldn’t react like she had. The need to assert that said, ‘well, that’s you. My boyfriend/father/mother/brother is different. That need to feel special in the midst of pain and self-neglect. But every one and each time is different, thankfully. Trish’s eyes widened in realization.

“Your boyfriend?”

“He told me no one else would ever love me.” Keira’s tone was soft and not at all insistent. Trish needed to know that it wasn’t just Keira but at the same time it was more than just Trish.

“I…” Keira almost echoed the girl’s stammer, but it came from a place of wise caution to allow the girl to take it in at her own pace.

“I never knew just how much he hurt me… inside.” Keira looked down at herself and patted her chest, but not at all with the anger the girl had expressed, but rather with an almost smile that indicated self-acceptance.

“It…it hurts so much,” the girl echoed Keira’s observation from only moments before.

“I know, Trish.” Keira said softly. And in that instant, Trish knew that Keira knew. The pain. The sorrow. The doubts. The confusion. All the things that harried the girl on a nearly moment-to-moment basis. Not instantaneous understanding, but still instantaneous knowledge that someone else understood. She burst into sobbing. Keira looked to the doorway where Jana Shah stood, nodding with an admiring smile. Keira leaned only a little bit closer and tapped the girl on the arm, making sure to avoid the bruise.

“I know,” she repeated as the girl continued to cry.

“I know.”

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Keira’s office, two days before the holiday break…

Keira heard someone at her door. She turned to find a familiar handsome-looking woman, a welcome visit even if Keira was painfully timid enough not to share that sentiment.

Jana Shah stood in the doorway with her own timid look on her face, which was odd since she practically exuded confidence nearly all the time. She was second generation Iranian-American whose family emigrated ironically when the Shah fled Iran in 1979. Her father and her mother both were immunologists and her sister was a midwife. Her call to serve at the school coincided with her Doctoral studies for Nurse Practitioner, but she had taken an extended break for health reasons and had only recently returned to School nursing.

“Ms. Dennison?” She stood stock still waiting for Keira to gaze from the papers on her desk. The two exchanged pleasantries with a formality that rarely if ever included first names.

“Ms. Shah. How nice to see you out and about. How may I help you?” Keira smiled pleasantly and Jana retreated a half-step. She had some good news but her thoughts immediately prior to arriving on Keira’s doorstep, so to speak, were almost too-typically nervous. She managed to set aside her anxiety and spoke.

“You have time?” She hadn’t meant to look away, but her posture sent the exact opposite of what she meant to convey.

“Trish Cavaleri?” Keira anticipated the worst, but Jana’s emerging smile disarmed any dread.

“She and her mother found a good therapist.” Jana finished with a half-frown.

“But?” Keira asked.

“Oh no, I’m sorry. It’s all good . At least for the family. Her mother got a job in Sacramento and they’re moving over the holiday break.” Jana noticed Keira’s look of apprehension and quickly added,

“The school district is very supportive of trans teens.” Her words did little to alleviate Keira’s disappointment, which mirrored her own. Jana sighed. Her interaction with Trish over the past term was as much a friendship as a nurse/patient relationship. But she was relieved for the most part, and Keira was as well, even if she would also miss the girl.

“I’m glad for her.” Keira said even as she lowered her gaze, missing Jana’s nod.

“I just wish I had been able to help.”

“Help? I watched you pull that girl out of herself. She’s in a better place inside because of the encouragement you and Mr. Denali and Ms. Parker have given her. I would be fearful to imagine where Trish would be if it weren’t for you.” Jana half frowned in worry that she had made things too personal, at least in tone.

“I…” Keira hesitated.

“That is very kind, Ms. Shah.” Keira blushed. The room seemed to pull all the tension in the world into the small space, leaving Keira confused.

“I merely speak the truth, Ms. Dennison. You are indeed a remarkable woman.” At the word ‘woman,’ Keira turned away.

“You sell yourself extremely short Ms. Dennison,” Jana said almost too soft to be heard. She stepped into the office and closed the door slowly behind her, shutting out the din from the hallway two rooms away.

“I’m…”

“You told the girl how hurt you were… Not to bring attention to yourself but to let the girl know you are all-too familiar with her hurt, that she is not alone. That took courage, which it seems to be in diminished supply these days, at least for girls like her to see.”

“I’m not brave,” Keira argued.

“I have watched you speak to the kids in assembly. You make no effort to hide who you are and what you survived. That is brave, Ms. Dennison.”

Jana’s words were too ironic by half, as they say. Her own trials were no secret to any of co-workers, much less Keira. And that commonality included feelings of inadequacy and even feeling inauthentic, if for decidedly different reasons. Like both her mother and sister, Jana had lost the painful skirmish but won the war against the ravages of cancer. Whispers and sad looks had accompanied her return to school along with the all-too commonality known by some of her women colleagues.

“Keira?” Jana said softly, perhaps revealing too much in the tone of her voice.

“I…I know a great deal about you just in observing your dealings…no, your care of these kids. You…” Jana began to blush.

“And you don’t? Keira replied, her head still lowered.

“That is not what I said,” Jana spoke sharply in rebuke.

“We both care. But it is not enough.” Keira raised her head and shrugged, as if to say, I’m doing the best I can. Jana noticed her frustration, and her next word was even sharper.

“NO!” She stepped closer. The outer offices were already empty since it was past the end of the school day, but she cautiously closed the door behind her and continued.

“You, Keira Dennison, need to care for yourself. And when you cannot, you must at least accept the care of another, yes?” Jana looked back through the window in the door into the darkened outer office and nodded.

“And who will care for me, Ms. Shah?” Keira asked. A long day in a long term in a long arduous journey left Keira feeling hopeless once again.

“We may care for each other, Keira….That is, if you will let me? I know you already care for me, but my wish is that…”

“I…” Keira stammered. She lowered her head once again. Hope? Dreams? Dare she even wish? Her own silence left the room feeling cold until a warm hand caressed her cheek, which in turn left her face hot and even redder.

“It is said in many traditions that the Magi came from the east. That one may indeed have come from Persia.” Jana said as a smile crossed her face.

“If I may, I am not wise as a Mage, but I would like to present you with a gift…perhaps from one who is more than an admirer?” She glanced over her shoulder to the dark office behind and nodded with an even broader smile.

“Gold and Frankincense and Myrrh I do not possess, but what I have I freely give to you, Keira Dennison.” With those words she leaned close and kissed Keira on the forehead in blessing.

“I will go no further without a word from you. Will you let me care?” She pulled back slightly and smiled, a bit in caution but entirely in hope. Keira looked up. She had begun to cry, and it took all she could do to manage the next moment, but she smiled through her tears and said at last,

“Yes?

Next: Tara’s Christmas Wish

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