The Move
Chapter 1

We had talked every night for a month. We were going to make the big step. Living together. We had been seeing each other for about a month. Although we had spent every night together, and any free time we had together; it was not "official", as yet. We talked and talked, one night.

"Honey, lets get real," I said. "We are living together, already. Just pick up the rest of your things, and bring them here. You know that is what we both want."

Getting real with ourselves, she went to her parents house, to pick up her things.

I had thought this would go smoothly, forgetting those laws 'Murphy' wrote.

Silly me.

The phone rings. I answer. It was not a '12 step' call, but a call to hear she was in the hospital.

I lost it.

Upset would now be understated, at best.

In anger, I threw a dish at the wall.

Her reason for being in the hospital, had appalled me.

To think that her father and brother had done such harm to her. She had told them she was moving in with me. Her father and bother showed her, what "REAL" men, they were.

Her mother had left the crime scene.

How convenient...

I went to Broward County Memorial Hospital. She was still in the emergency room. She was bruised, and getting stitched up.

She said, "I'm sorry."

I looked at her in disbelief, "Why?".

She said, "I didn't want to bother you."

I said, "Bother me? Never!"

We did not display any affection, for that was not the task at hand.

I said, "Are you OK?"

"The best I can be, at the moment," she replied.

"All right," I said, "where are your belongings?"

"They threw them onto the driveway," she said.

"I'll take care of it," I told her.

"Please, don't hurt anyone," she asked.

"Darling, don't worry. I won't."

I proceeded with the calculated cautiousness, of a scorpion seeking its prey. Knowing of my stature of 5'4", and that a good wind that could knock me over, I went to a pub.

Predicatably, I ran into some of my Irish friends.

David had not had a drink in 9 months, but still loved the companionship of the pubs. David and I were very good friends. An unspoken understanding, if you will.

I told him of the situation. I told him I had promised her no one would get hurt.

He said, "Aye."

David, I, and two others, drove to her parents house.

These men looked scarey. They were really pussy cats, but the father and brother were not knowing of this. It looked like the Hell's Angels had showed up. Dear Dad and Brother, were not to be seen.

I had the keys to her car. Her things were tossed all over the driveway.

We gathered her things, and placed them in her car. The Irishmen were angry.

I said to David, "Please, get the guys in line."

David did so. I drove the car back to my home. The men followed me.

"Stay here. Help yourself to whatever," I said to them, as we entered my home. "I need to go back to the hospital."

They said to me, what a good woman I was.

"I will go with you," David said.

"David, I feel this is better done, alone."

He finally agreed, and waited.

I went to the hospital, with a feeling of relief, that she would never have to go back to that house.

She was about to be discharged. I had bought some flowers at the gift shop, and a teddy bear we later named 'Chester'.

She looked so hurt! Not just externally, but internally.

This hurt got to me. I guided her into the car.

I feared to touch her, she had so many bruises. I didn't want to hurt her.

She said, "Do you still want me to move in?"

"Honey, you already have."

"Really?" she said, brightening. Then with fearfulness, "Tell me you didn't hurt anyone."

"Not a soul, Darling," I said. "Oh, and by the way, we have some guests at the house."

She said, "You didn't!"

"Yes, I did!"

She wanted to laugh, and tried to smile; but the stitches on her lip stopped her, although the message was clear.

She said, "I love you."

"I know," I replied, "and I will always love you."

We proceed back to our new home, without another word.