After spending three weeks in a shelter for battered women, I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Don’t get me wrong, it served its purpose. It was very well run and the women in charge were the kind that would fold you into their soft bosoms where you could weep like a child. But there were rules. So many rules. I understood that the rules were in place for my own safety and the safety of the other women taking refuge from their own horrific situations, but I had just escaped from the control of another person and I didn’t want anyone else telling me what to do.
I can write a chapter on that place, but I’ll save that for the book. This is about the very first place I lived after leaving my husband. Still in my 20s, I was on my own for the first time in my life. I wish I could say I was carefree and happy, but my situation didn’t allow for that. It was as if I were on the run. This was before going through the process of attorneys, custody arrangements, the inevitable restraining order, and everything else I needed to separate myself from the life I’d been living for seven years. And I had a five-year old boy who needed to get through all of that as unscathed as possible.
While at the shelter, I perused the newspaper daily for a suitable place. I found a furnished in-law unit for $350 per month; manageable on my bartender’s salary, and furnished was a bonus since I had no intention of haggling over furniture or anything else with the man I was running from. I was doing my best to have as little contact as possible. I wouldn’t tell him where we lived and the child exchanges were always through the extremely patient, long-suffering babysitter.
I made an appointment and met with the owner of the home. He was an elderly gentleman who lived in the main house with his sort of younger girlfriend. There were a few red flags coming from my (soon to be) landlord, but the place was perfect. It was detached from the main house and sat in the back corner of the property overlooking Monterey Bay. It had a private entrance from a side gate and its own little patio. It was very tiny, a studio basically, but it was clean and rustic and it was furnished with two twin beds. One for me and one for Jarrod.
Spoiler: We lasted six weeks.