He saw the question in her eyes. "I haven't told you what I got paid," he whispered in her ear.
The flight back home was Donna's first experience flying first class. "I could get used to this," she murmured as she settled into the roomy seat.
"A few more jobs like that one and you can," Eric said.
Donna's eyes flashed as she sat up. "Oh, no, you don't. I am not going to sit at home missing you while you go gallivanting all over the world laying Italian-fucking-stone."
Eric hushed her with a kiss. "You won't have to. One of the businessmen at the party has an office in the city and wants to build a home there too. Lots of stonework. Lots of connections. He thinks he can keep me very busy." He paused. "We might even be able to start looking for a house of our own. We might even think about starting a family one of these days."
Donna beamed, resting back in the seat for takeoff. A house. A home. A real home. Children. Was she ready for that? What kind of father would Eric be? Father. She was surprised to feel a tear roll down her cheek. "Oh, Eric." She began to cry quietly.
Immediately, he was concerned. "What's the matter?"
For the remainder of the flight, Donna painfully but thoroughly took Eric through her childhood memories. Her mother's addiction, her dad's drinking. On her twelfth birthday, he had taken her out for ice cream. As they walked along the sidewalk outside, licking their cones, he had said, "You're really growing up, you know."
"That meant so much to me," Donna said. Her tiny breasts probably didn't need a bra yet, but she had begged just the same. She had started her period. She'd even had a growth spurt. Still shorter than most of the girls in her class, there was real hope of catching up eventually. And she was so proud of her father, this tall, burly man who had raised her. He drank too much, but what was too much, really? He only spanked her if she was really naughty, and never too hard. He gave her an allowance for doing all the cleaning and the cooking.
"I was okay, even without a mother, until that night," Donna sniffled. "We were okay." She paused to blow her nose.
Eric hoped silently that he didn't know what was coming next; he had a sinking feeling that he did. "Until?"
Donna's head fell back, and she closed her eyes, seeing it all too clearly. "After we got home, I undressed and put on my nightgown, brushed my teeth, brushed my hair a hundred times, all the things twelve-year-old girls do. I called goodnight to him and climbed into bed." She bit her lip. "After a few minutes, he came to my room. He climbed into bed with me. I could smell the liquor on his breath when he kissed me on the cheek. He kept saying he loved me. He loved me so much. I-I didn't know he was doing anything wrong. Not yet."
Eric stopped her with his hand. "You don't have to tell me anything else. I think I have a pretty good picture."
She shook her head and frowned. "I've never told anyone, Eric. I have to finally tell someone, and it has to be you. Don't you see? I'm still letting him hurt me by keeping it all inside. Maybe that's what appealed to me at the club… I have this rage inside that I've hung onto."
Eric frowned. Would sharing her story with him impact their relationship? He enjoyed things the way they were. But she clearly was in pain. "Go on, then."
"It hurt. How could it not? He was a grown man. But he was also gentle. He told me it would get easier the more we did it. I didn't even know what 'it' was. No mother, no instructions. I was so stupid, so naive…"
"You were a child," Eric said roughly. His hands had clenched as she spoke quietly and calmly of the abuse. "Is he still alive? Because right now I'd like to—"
Donna laid a hand on the fist not partially encased in the cast. "He died when I was eighteen," she said in a soothing tone. "I'd left home at sixteen, moved in with a friend from school, told her family it was because of the drinking. And he never asked me to come home." Her voice was low. "Sometimes I wonder if he'd still be alive if I hadn't left. Maybe I should have just endured it for his sake. Or told someone… but he'd have gone to prison, and I didn't want that. God help me, he was a monster, but he was a kind one. You have to understand that, Eric. He was never cruel to me."
Eric shook his head and repeated himself, "You. Were. A. Child."
Donna nodded and smiled sadly. "I'm not a child any more, Eric. And I can't live with rage. I've hidden it. I've even used it. But just saying the words out loud? I see that he was in pain. I was the closest thing to my mom that he could reach. I even looked like her. The alcohol was a factor. His loneliness. My loneliness." She saw the disapproval in his face. "I'm not excusing what he did, Eric. But maybe I've started to finally forgive him. For all I know, he was abused himself. My mom, too, maybe. They didn't know how to deal with their pain. I don't want to carry mine any longer."
Eric was silent as an announcement came over the sound
