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I sat there numbly, not able torespond. After the way Jenna had been controlling our relationship, andnow having my hopes of changing that dashed, I felt powerless. I waslike putty in their capable hands. They finished with my face and useda brush and a styling product on my hair. Then they stood me up andwalked me back into the bathroom. When I saw myself in the full lengthmirror, Andy had to support me so my suddenly weak legs wouldn'tcollapse.I was looking at a slender, flat-chested girl. With no body hair and mygenitals hidden in the panties, that's what I resembled. My face didn'tcontradict that impression. I had blue eye shadow and my lashes hadbeen thickened, plus there was blush on my cheeks and my mouth was abright red pout. Even my hair betrayed any attempt to look manly. Itwas swept up in front and held that way with the gel or whatever it was,and made fuller on the sides too. I wanted to cry. What kind ofreaction was that from a husband on his wedding night? . Back in my hotel room, I had taken a faded family picture from my suitcase. It was the last real family picture. Looking at it, I was amazed that I had been able to leave only months after the sixteenth birthday party where it was taken. I looked so young, and small and weak like my mother. The sweater I wore in the picture had been a favorite, I remembered wearing it to hide the bruises, it’s high neck the perfect cover. I had grown tired years before of wondering why my father was so angry, why my mother stayed, why nobody did anything when it seemed like everyone knew. It was all that either of them knew, I think. To him, it was love. I still don’t know what it was to my mother. I wanted to forgive myself for leaving them to each other, but I knew that in order to do it, I was going to have to let go of all the shit I’d been carrying around since I was a teenager. ‘He was a good man, Brenda. I know that the two of you had your differences, but he was a good man, and he always.
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