Tamara Jackson to flinch. Michael, her son, who was sitting beside her in the courtroom, gripped her hand tighter. With a sense of dread filling her belly, Tamara watched as her ex-husband was pulled toward the courtroom’s exit. He was squirming, trying to free himself from the bailiffs’ grip, and she was sure that if he could, he would lunge at her and cause her bodily harm.
“I’m gonna appeal, and I’ll be out of here before you know it. And then you’d better be scared!”
The judge pounded her gavel. “Mr. Jackson, please calm down.”
“He’s not gonna get out, is he?” Michael asked.
Tamara looked down at her son’s eyes that were wide with terror. “No, honey,” she told him in a reassuring tone. “He’s just trying to scare us because he’s angry. He won’t get out of jail for a very long time.”
“I promise you—I’ll be back!”
Bravely, Tamara watched Patrick being led out the door that would take him out of her view—and her life—forever. He twisted his head to give her one last glimpse and then he was gone.
A long, shuddery breath escaped Tamara. It was over. Patrick was gone. She never had to see him again.
“You okay?”
Tamara turned to face her mother, who was to her right. She instinctively loosened the grip on her hand. But Michael, on her left, was still holding tight to her other hand as if his life depended on it.
“I’m fine,” Tamara said. She didn’t feel fine right now, but she knew that she would be. Patrick was going to prison for forty-two years. He wouldn’t be a problem again.
Though his promise still frightened her. She had spent years being afraid of him, and she couldn’t simply turn off those feelings.
Tamara turned to her son, whose eyes were locked on the door Patrick had just exited through.
“Sweetheart, he’s gone. He can’t hurt us now.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, I can promise you that.” Tamara wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. The prosecutor had assured her that there was no legal loophole for Patrick to file an appeal. The case against him had been ironclad.
Not only had Patrick threatened her and her son’s lives, he had also tried to kill her best friend, Callie-Hart Williams—more than once. He’d been charged with kidnapping, two counts of attempted murder, assault causing bodily harm—a host of serious charges. Callie’s testimony, earlier in the trial, had been moving and effective, and Tamara had seen a couple of the female jurors wiping away tears. The guilty verdict had been a foregone conclusion from the start.
“I love you,” Tamara said, leaning over to rest her face atop Michael’s head. “We have each other. We’ll be all right.”
“I love you, Ma,” Michael said, his voice quavering.
Tamara’s heart broke for him. No boy should have to sit in a courtroom like this and see his father sentenced to prison. But there was nothing she could do to change the events that had happened.
“Well, that’s the end of that,” Tamara’s father commented and began to rise. “I never did like him.”
Tamara bit her tongue. There was no point rehashing the fights she’d had with her parents in the past. No, they hadn’t liked Patrick. But yes, she had married him nonetheless. The last thing she wanted to hear from her father now was I-told-you-sos. She had learned her lesson the hard way. All Tamara could do now was pick up the pieces of her life and move on.
And she was going to do so, literally. She was packed and ready to move back to Cleveland, where she had grown up. Callie had moved back there a year ago after Patrick had run her and her son, Kwame, off the road in an attempt to kill them both. As a result of returning to Cleveland, Callie had reconciled with her college sweetheart, who was also the father of the son he had never met. Now they were happily married. Callie and Nigel had invited Tamara and Michael to stay with them for as long as she wanted, and Tamara was taking them up on the offer.
Tamara kept her arms around her son as she stood, bringing him to his feet at the same time. One year. It had been one whole year since her world turned upside down. She was very much looking forward to putting the whole ugly ordeal behind her.
In a phone call, Callie had stressed to Tamara that she didn’t need to be in the court to hear the sentencing. She had already been there to witness the verdict. And since Patrick had been found guilty on all charges, Callie assured her the sentence would be lengthy and there was no need to be in the courtroom to hear it. But Tamara knew the opposite to be true. She’d needed to be here. Needed to hear the sentence handed down. For her, it was all about closure.
In the time since Patrick’s arrest, Tamara had gone through a year of counseling to deal with everything, not only for herself but also for her son. The counseling sessions had helped her understand what had drawn her to a man like Patrick in the first place.
The most important thing she had come away with was that she had to forgive herself. Sometimes, all you could do was learn from your mistakes, and this was one of those times. Tamara was wiser now in terms of knowing the signs to look for when it came to dangerous men. And she understood what had led her to make some of the decisions she had. Why she had chosen Patrick, why she had stayed. But in the end, the ownership of the behavior belonged to Patrick. She could not blame herself for what he had done.
Part of what she had learned in therapy was that she had been drawn to men who needed nurturing. It was amazing how you could think you had your life together, how you could see other people’s problems, and yet so dismally fail at recognizing your own. Tamara had never put together the pieces that having had a father who was emotionally distant had led her to pick men who were like injured birds. Men she believed that with her love she could help learn to fly again.
“I do wish you would reconsider moving to Cleveland,” her mother said once they were out of the courtroom.
“I know,” Tamara said. She had already heard their objections to her plan. “But it’s something I have to do.” Tamara’s parents believed the move would be temporary. But Tamara had other plans. She had taken a leave of absence from her job just in case, but she had every intention of making Cleveland her home again.
A new but familiar start...
“Right now you need to be with your family,” her mother stressed. “We want to help you through this.”
“And you have. In this past year, you’ve helped me a lot. I understand that you’re worried, but Michael and I will be okay. Being here in Florida...emotionally, I can’t handle it. And Michael has had a tough time, too. I think it’s best for both of us that we put Florida behind us, at least for the time being.”
“You’re leaving your job behind,” her father piped in. “How do you intend to survive?”
“I have savings,” Tamara said. “And I can get another job. I can work in real estate in Cleveland if I have to.”
Her father scoffed, and Tamara tried to ignore the wave of disappointment washing over. She was thirty-two, a mother and entitled to make her own decisions. She didn’t need her parents’ approval.
Now, of all times in her life, she needed to stand on her own two feet. But she didn’t dare mention her future plans to her parents at this point—which included a change in career paths—because they would surely object.
“I know you’ll miss me,” Tamara said gently. “I’ll miss you, too. But I’m going to be with Callie and Nigel, and Michael will have his old friend Kwame to make the transition easier. Please understand, this is something I need to do.”
A look of resignation passed over her mother’s face, and then she pulled Tamara into an embrace. “I love you. Your father and I just want the best for you.”
“I know that.”