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Dixie went to bed that night, feeling so much lighter. It was as if a heavy stone had been pressing down on her shoulders, driving her down into the ground. To let someone know the truth, who she used to be, why she had left, even to say Owen’s name aloud had somehow given him less power over her. She wasn’t ready to tell anyone else, not yet, but she was glad Jake knew her secrets because she could open her heart to him and know that he would handle it with care.
She drifted off to sleep, smiling with the image of Jake as a knight in shining armor on a tall, majestic steed of white riding up to her door, scooping her up, and carrying her off into a sunset. Surprise, surprise, the happy ending couldn’t hold, shattered when Owen’s dark shadow came creeping in, bringing nightmares with him. He was there, next to her, standing over her bed, in the trailer. His harsh breathing filled her ear as the stubble of his beard scratched her cheek and the stench of alcohol nearly strangled her. She gagged and coughed, tried to gather enough breath to scream. His sweating fists closed around her arms and dug in until she thought they would cut to the bone and he yanked her from her bed, ready to throw her against the wall as nothing more than a piece of furniture.
Dixie sat up straight, the scream dying in her throat as she came awake. She was shaking, her face wet from crying, her heart pounding in her chest. She pulled on her shorts and t-shirt and ran out into the night, away from the memories. Eventually, she came to a meadow and stopped, breathing hard. No more running away. “I am Dixie Mason and I am strong and free. I do not run,” she whispered to herself fiercely. She chanted the words over and over, getting louder and louder until finally a loud shout burst from her lungs. Say it like she meant what she said and the words would ring true.
Dixie might not be alone anymore, she might have others on her side, but it began with her. She should have stood up to Owen long ago, even if that meant going to the authorities to do so. One look at the marks on her body and they would have followed through. Someone would have done the right thing. Look what had happened when Dixie reached out down South. She could have gone when Owen was at work, made sure they protected Mama, got a –what was it called?—a restraining order. Hindsight was twenty- twenty but it was too late and it wouldn’t fix anything. She couldn’t bring Mama back but she did have the here and now. High time she made the best of what God gave her. She flung herself back onto the tall, cool grass of the meadow and stared up at the stars. It was true, what she told herself. She was strong, stronger than Owen and free to be whoever she wanted—and Dixie Mason was who she wanted to be.