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Helen drew in a fortifying breath, then plunged in deeper. “This is the way it’s going to be. We have two boys and another baby on the way. It’s time to stop this. I’m not going to sit here doing nothing while you drink your way into becoming just like your dad. I won’t do it, Kevin.”
An angry string of ugly words Helen would never let pass her own lips came from the man she loved. At the end of that tirade, he said, “I’m going out tonight with the guys. That’s the end of it.”
“Then you’ve made your choice.” She hung up before he could respond.
Four hours later, the phone in the kitchen rang again. This time, it was Dave. “Hi, Helen.”
“Is he drunk?”
“You know the answer.”
“Then don’t bring him here.”
“Yeah, I heard about your conversation. He’s spent the night swinging back and forth between boiling mad and desperately hoping you’ll stay with him.” Dave cleared his throat. “Stand your ground. I’ve got you on this, Helen. I just wanted you to know I’m taking him to his dad’s. He’s fine. I’m sure he’ll sleep it off and call you tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“Helen?”
“Yeah.”
“I mean it. Stay strong. Like I said, I’m with you. Whatever you need—you or the boys—just let me know.”
“I need a miracle, Dave.” Bitterness seeped through her heart and salted her voice. “You have one of those?”
“Not in my back pocket, no. But I know a Guy.” His attempt at humor fell flat. Again, Dave cleared his throat. “Seriously, though, Helen. I’m praying for you both. You do know that, right?”
Helen didn’t know how to respond to that. She wanted to spit out apray harder because it’s not working,but Dave was a good friend. Had been to Kevin his whole life and to her since the day she and Kevin met. He didn’t deserve her bitter sarcasm.
The following morning, Helen received a phone call from a repentant husband. He seemed repentant at first anyway.
“That was the last time, baby. I promise.”
Promises made and broken many times before. Helen remained quiet.
“Tell me you love me, Helen. Say you’ll stay with me.”
“I do love you, Kevin. And I’m not going anywhere.” She sighed, lowering herself onto a chair beside the phone, speaking softly so the boys, who were playing dinosaurs across the room, couldn’t hear her. “But you can’t come here—not drunk. Not anymore.”
“Why are you kicking me out of my own home?”
She didn’t want to fight him—wasn’t sure she’d have the strength to stay the course. She was bone tired. Pregnant, two toddlers, a husband with a drinking problem, and as of the week before, working at the truck-stop diner three evenings a week. How long could she hold up?
Despite her efforts to hold back the tears, a few dripped onto her nose, and she turned to face the window so the boys wouldn’t see. “I’m not.” Her voice cracked. “Oh, Kevin, how could you put me in this position? I love you. The boys and I need you. But you can’t keep doing this. You can’t become your father.”
“I amnotmy dad.” Leaded anger weighed his voice.
Helen didn’t respond. For several heart-throbbing breaths, there was silence on the line. And then . . . then a hard click.
He’d hung up on her. That had been the last time she’d talk to him.
Shoulders hunched, Helen leaned against the side of the refrigerator. In the background, Sally Ride was counting backward from ten for Grundgetta’s garbage can launch onSesame Street. The boys remained transfixed on the screen. And Helen—
Helen caved to the quivering sobs that surged up. Hands covering her face, she muffled her cries as best that she could.
“God,” she whispered. “If you’re listening, if you can see me . . .”
Dave’s mom promised that God could. Several times over Mrs. Clayton had assured Helen during one of their weekly coffee get-togethers that God saw her. That God cared about her.
