September 2007 went by pretty quickly. Gypsy made it a point to brag to his family that I was pregnant, told everyone he was the father, tried repeatedly to get me to marry him…I was just completely floored, and had no idea what to do – I mean, I don’t even KNOW this man, and he wasn’t giving me any opportunity whatsoever to process this, to adapt. It was too much.
October 2007 rolls around and we go out karaoke again for my birthday. Obviously I didn’t drink, though I did sing. Grim – who hates going out – called out of work in order to speak to Gypsy. I took the reprieve from Gypsy and enjoyed a small freedom. When Gypsy’s turn to sing came up, I went out to get him, and both of them stopped talking and asked me to go away. I went back inside, confused and worried. I sang a few more songs and Gypsy came back inside, looking angry. I stressed out, went outside, and vomited in a trash can, unaware that Grim was still outside. He eyed me with an expression of…disgust? I didn’t know, I’d never seen that expression from him before. I sat down and held my stomach. Grim’s expression softened and he came over to me to help.
“I want to leave now” I told him, and went inside to ask Gypsy to take me home.
“After my next song” He said
I asked the DJ how long until Gypsy’s next song, “45 minutes” He told me. I went outside and vomited again at the smell of cigarette smoke – which had never bothered me throughout my life (my parents used to smoke). Grim decided then to take me to his house to prevent me from becoming dehydrated or malnourished. Just then, Ruby shows up in his Jeep.
“Go inside and tell Gypsy that I’m taking her to our house.” Grim told him, “And if he gets too drunk, bring him to the house, too, so he doesn’t drive intoxicated.” Ruby agreed, and we parted ways. When I got to Grim’s house, I drank 2 full glasses of water, showered, brushed my teeth, and immediately went to sleep the moment I fell onto his bed.
The next morning, I learned that Grim slept in the spare bedroom to give me my space, checking on me every so often to make sure I was neither feverish nor clammy, and he had washed my clothes for me. He offered me breakfast, and offered to drive me home. Gypsy was not here, however, so we’d both assumed he’d gotten home okay on his own.
When I got back to Gypsy’s house, he still smelled strongly of alcohol. He was angry – VERY angry – and did not hold back. He told me that Grim had revealed to him the baby’s paternity, and that Ruby never delivered Grim’s message – only told Gypsy that Grim and I had left together. He did not know I was sick, and instantly assumed I had slept with Grim that night. He claimed that he had driven home drunk and almost wrecked four times, and that it was my fault. I tried to walk out of the room, and he grabbed me by both shoulders, and shoved me hard onto the bed. Soft though it was, my head bounced off hard, and it hurt my neck. I tried to get back up, and he shoved me down again. I tried to back away onto the bed, and he grabbed my ankle, pulling me towards him. He grabbed my pants, pulled them off and threw them across the room.
“WHORE!” he called me, “That’s why you keep going back to that house – you LIKE this! This is what you like!” I finally got away from him, and got as far back onto the bed as I could. Suddenly, he changed – his expression became a combination of fear, shock and worry. He climbed onto the bed, grabbed hold of me, and held me, and would not let me go. Not knowing what was safe, I just sat there quietly, trying to ignore the stench of alcohol on him.
“It’s okay,” He told me, running his hands along my arm, “I’m here, don’t worry, it’s okay.”
*Note* a few years later, Gypsy confessed to me that he’d attempted in this moment to cause me a miscarriage, as he did not want me to have another man’s child. CPS reports from his first marriage – from whom he did not receive a divorce until 2 months after my baby was born – showed that he had also once deliberately kicked her in the stomach in 2006, causing her a miscarriage.
Two weeks later, my grandfather passed away, and I called out of work to be with him during his final moments. Gypsy was with me when I called out – he scarcely ever left my side following my birthday outing – and I specifically told them, “Fire me if you want, but I’m not coming in, my Grandfather is dying.” I found out the next day that they’d written that I quit. I asked Gypsy to fix it, but he refused. He then took the opportunity to fire Grim since I was no longer a factor in the hotel that would risk a prejudiced opinion. So I lost my grandfather AND my job, and would have no way to get out of Gypsy’s house.
Worst. Birthday. Ever.