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Authors: Terri Ann Leidich

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Annette told her story, but Suzanne was dealing with a mixture of sadness, joy, and
anxiety. So much had happened to her in the last weeks. She had been here almost
three weeks and couldn't imagine leaving. She had finally found security and friendship.
Since that day in group when they'd pounded through her shell, Suzanne had opened
up and talked about her drinking, her past, her childhood, and her father. And the
more she talked, the more acceptance she found; she was realizing she was not alone
in her pain. She was not the only woman who drank and slept around, she was not the
only woman who was scared of men, and she was not the only woman who was raped by
her father.

Suzanne had heard the saying that there was safety in numbers, but the number of
women she had met here who were molested as children scared her.
It's a frightening
world if that's what's happening to our children,
she internally shuddered.

Annette slipped back into the seat as Suzanne smiled at her and reached out to touch
her hand. “I'm going to miss you,” Annette said.

“I'm going to miss you too, Granny,” Suzanne affectionately answered. “I'm going
to miss lying in bed talking to you through the darkness of night. The nights have
been bearable because your voice would float over to me from the other bed. And even
if we weren't talking, I could listen to you snore.”

“I don't snore.” Annette laughed.

“Do too.” Suzanne smiled as they turned their attention to the next speaker.

Later that afternoon, Suzanne sat in Liz's office for her regular session.

“Well, Suzanne, we've been successful. One of the halfway houses in the Minneapolis-St.
Paul area will have an opening at the end of next week, and that's when you're scheduled
to leave here. I'd recommend that you continue your individual counseling with me
for a couple more weeks as you slowly get integrated into the groups and counseling
at the house.” She paused and smiled. “You've come a long way, Suzanne, but you've
only won some battles, not the war.”

I don't want to leave. I've found security and friendship for the first time in my
life. I have things in common with these people. It's not that way in the real world.
I don't want to leave.

Liz was still talking. “Have you decided what type of employment you'd like to find
while you're at the halfway house? Would you like to stay in sales?”

“No!” Suzanne slapped her hands against her knees for emphasis.

“Why not?” Liz asked, surprised. She placed her pen on the paper in her lap and leaned
back in the upholstered chair.

“Because I don't.” Suzanne glanced around the room, avoiding Liz's eyes.

“Suzanne, you're going to have to eventually deal with Jeff. He's not going to just
go away. Don't run from something you really like to do just because of him.”

“It's not just him.” Suzanne quickly stood and began pacing in the small space between
the chairs. “It's the whole world I had. I don't want it again.” She stopped and
stared out of the window. “Maybe I'll go back to school and go into psychology.”

Liz's eyes twinkled as she responded, “I wouldn't rush into anything. That's a frequent
response. The field already has too many people who are in it to
try to straighten
themselves out. Give yourself time and figure out what you'd really like to do. During
the stay at the halfway house, I usually recommend that people work at a job, not
a career. The purpose of the next few months is to learn how to stay sober in the
everyday world. It's easier in here because it's such a structured, controlled environment.
The real world isn't like that.”

Sadness washed over Suzanne. “I wish it could be.”

“You feel that now because your life has been so chaotic,” Liz continued. “You can
change that, Suzanne. Remember, your life has to do with your choices and how you
respond to the world around you.”

“That's what's so tough. The world scares the hell out of me, and I just want to
run and hide. And I've done my hiding in a bottle up to now.”

“But no more, right?” Liz gently tapped Suzanne's knee.

“No more,” Suzanne agreed, but she didn't feel completely convinced.

The auditorium was crowded. A sea of faces stared up at her. The last five weeks
had turned her world upside down and inside out. She felt like a different person,
except she wasn't sure how she was different. Stepping up to the microphone, Suzanne
placed her hand around it to steady herself.

“Hello. My name is Suzanne, and I'm an alcoholic.”

“Hi, Suzanne,” the voices chorused back.

Chapter 34

Minneapolis, Minnesota

“Geez, Helene. I just can't deal with all this stuff,” Alice complained as she stood
in the kitchen talking to her sister on the phone. “I mean, most days I don't know
why the hell I'm trying to go to college. I mean, I barely made it through high school.”
She ran her fingers through her hair and blankly stared out of the kitchen window
toward a row of nicely kept apartments. “And I'm scared to death for my kids because
of what they've gone through. I feel guilty about marrying Jake in the first place.
Now I just want to forget I did and get on with life. I don't want to have to deal
with this.”

“You have to deal with it, Alice,” Helene said. “Nobody else can do it for you.”
She sighed. “I think you should press charges. As far as I'm concerned, he belongs
behind bars.”

“Yeah, okay, so he does.” Alice turned from the window and started to pace. “But
what about Sarah? Kids have this bonding kind of love for parents. It's like no matter
what they do, their kids can't totally hate them. What if Jake went to prison? What
would that do to Sarah?” She plopped down on a kitchen chair and stared absently
at a small picture on the wall.

“But what if you don't press charges? What if he hurts another young girl? What if
he marries again? What about some young stepdaughter?” Anger was seeping into Helene's
voice. “When are we going to stop this sickness, Alice?
When?” Her voice was climbing.
“We've got to stop it. Do you hear me? If we don't stop it, the cycle will continue
for our kids, our grandkids, and on and on.” Helene paused, her breathing fast and
shallow. “Sorry, I guess we hit a hot button. I can't tell you what to do. I don't
have to live with it either way. I just hope you don't take the easy way out just
because it is the easy way.”

Alice sat silently at her kitchen table, not knowing what to say. She just wanted
to hide in the closet and eat a dozen chocolate candy bars. She wanted the crazy,
fast world to stop so she could sit out a turn or two. She didn't want to make a
decision that would affect Sarah forever. Too many of her decisions had already done
that. She just couldn't handle her kids being hurt anymore.

She sighed deeply and made circles on the table with her fingers. “Helene, I just
want somebody to tell me what to do. That's all. Just tell me what to do. You're
the oldest; you know what's best. I guess I should press charges if you think I should.”

“Oh, no, you don't,” Helene said. “No way are you going to place the burden of that
decision on me. I can barely make my own choices. I'm not doing yours.”

Confusion, vulnerability, and despair were whirling through Alice. “I gotta go now,
Helene. I can't talk about this no more.”

“So what are you going to do?” Helene pressed.

“I said I can't talk about it no more. I'm gonna hang up now, okay?” She pushed the
chair away from the table and once more began to pace.

“Okay, but . . .”

“I'll call you another time, and we'll talk more. Bye.” Alice hung up the phone.
Her nerves were on edge. She felt as if everything was pressing in on her, that her
world was choking her to death. Thoughts of her mom haunted her. The vision of her
lying there in a coma was more than Alice could bear. Angry thoughts raged through
her mind.
Why can't Mom just die? Why can't Jake just die? Why won't everybody just
go away and leave me alone?

When Alice and the kids had gone to see her mom the previous weekend, Alice hadn't
wanted to go but felt she had to. She tried to go once a week, but with school, work,
and the kids, there wasn't much time left. She couldn't just ignore her mother, lying
in limbo as she was. Maybe she didn't love her mom
the way she wanted Sarah and Sam
to feel about her, but there were some deep feelings that Alice couldn't explain.
And that was what scared her about Sarah and Jake.

Alice was scared to death of Jake. Even though she had filed a restraining order,
she was still scared that he would find them and kill her like he said he would.
And if she pressed charges, what was it going to be like for Sarah? What would they
put her through in court? What would it feel like for Sarah to have to tell strangers
about what her father did to her? Alice didn't know anything about how incest cases
were handled—she just knew what she had seen on television regarding rape cases—and
she didn't want Sarah to go through anything like that. Instead of finding out about
how incest cases are handled, Alice retreated into her childhood-taught tendency
of not asking questions.

And she was trying to fight the urge to stuff herself with food. The counselor had
told her about an Overeater's Anonymous group, and Alice was thinking about going,
but she was too embarrassed. She could do this by herself. She knew she could. She
just needed willpower. Two voices in her mind kept arguing.

“You don't need to eat,” the good voice encouraged.

“But I want to,” the rebellious voice countered.

“You don't need to,” the gentle voice tried again.

“But I'm going to,” the defiant part of her responded.

The voices argued back and forth as Alice paced the full length of the apartment,
wanting to scream in frustration. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore and headed
back to the kitchen. She no longer kept chocolate candy bars in the house, but she
needed chocolate—now! She frantically searched the pantry for something chocolate.
She pulled out some chocolate chips, marshmallows, and nuts. Shoving a handful of
the chocolate chips into her mouth, she carried her find to the stove and pulled
out a pan. She melted the chips and added the nuts and marshmallows. Then she spread
it into a pan to make one large candy bar.

She was carrying the pan to the refrigerator to let the chocolate concoction set
when she changed her mind. Sitting down at the table, Alice grabbed a
handful of
the gooey mess and shoved it into her mouth. Handful after handful followed until
the pan was empty. Her actions were robotic as she compulsively consumed the sweet,
gooey mess.

Her hands and mouth were smeared with melted chocolate, and a headache began at the
back of her neck. Her mind was dazed, but calm slowly returned. Chocolate did that
for her. She hated herself for needing the chocolate, and she hated herself even
more for giving in to that need.

As she sat at the table, Alice became conscious of her chocolate-covered hands and
how she must look. Picking up the pan, she hurried to the sink to clean up her mess
before the kids came home.

Alice felt sick to her stomach.
It's all that sugar, stupid. Your body needs decent
food.
Going to the refrigerator, she searched for healthy food and hurriedly ate
quantities of baked chicken and steamed broccoli, left over from last night's dinner,
that would take away the effects of the chocolate concoction.

Sarah's face was white as she and Sam came in the door. It was a Friday in late October,
and the last few weeks had been good for Alice. She had talked with Sarah, and they
had decided to press charges against Jake.

BOOK: Family Inheritance
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ads

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