Authors: Stefne Miller
Within moments I felt Riley’s hands on my cheeks. “Charlie, it’s okay. It’s okay.”
“Go on, Eddie.” It was Marme speaking. “You’ve done enough damage. Go on, get out of here.”
“I’m not leaving without my daughter.”
I felt my head shake at the sound of hearing him say the words my daughter.
My eyes opened to find Riley’s green eyes looking right back at me. They were large and full of concern. “Look at me, Charlie. Ignore him. Just ignore him. Pretend he isn’t even here.”
Pops let go of me and walked toward my dad.
Concentrating on Riley’s face and voice, I blocked out the commotion as it erupted in the entryway. I heard their voices, I heard the screams and yelling, but I didn’t allow my brain to comprehend the words. I only stood looking into Riley’s eyes as he tried to prevent me from hearing their battle.
I’d managed to block it out until my dad said the words that even in my worst nightmares I never thought I’d hear.
“I’d asked your mother for a divorce,” he announced.
Other than his voice, the house instantly went silent.
“There wasn’t anyone else involved. No affair or anything; it just wasn’t working.” His words were cold and detached. “I couldn’t keep it from you anymore. Given the circumstances, I thought you needed to know.”
I stood still as the room spun around me and my stomach churned. How could I respond? There was nothing I could say.
“You didn’t know it yet, but when you two came back to Oklahoma, you weren’t going to be coming back to New York.”
Riley pulled me closer. Only his strength kept me standing; my legs felt as if the muscles had turned to ash.
“Life isn’t a fairy tale, Attie. I can’t leave you here and let you go on living like it is.”
I looked around Riley’s shoulder. “It shows just how out of touch you are if you think I’m walking around in some fantasy. My life has been hell for the last year and a half. What I’ve had here is a small amount of happiness, but even that you had to destroy.” My eyes remained locked on him. “You’re dead to me. You died right along with Mom, and as far as I’m concerned, you don’t exist. Turn around, walk out the door, and go back to New York.”
“Attie, please don’t do this,” he begged. “I only told you because—”
My hands flew to cover my ears. “Pops, please get him out of here.” I buried my face in Riley’s chest as he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on the top of the head.
“Eddie,” Pops said quietly, “you need to leave.”
“She’s my daughter. I’m not going anywhere without her.”
“She’s asked you to go, and I need you to honor her wishes.”
My eyes squeezed tightly closed as Pops’s and Dad’s voices grew louder again.
Finally, Marme begged Dad to leave.
He did.
(Riley)
Attie stood shaking in my arms. Her father had broken her heart. Again.
“Charlie, are you all right?”
She peeled herself out of my arms in a daze. “I think I’ll go upstairs.”
Her wobbling legs tried to carry her to the stairs, but within just a few steps she fell to the ground and started vomiting.
I dropped to the ground beside her and held her hair out of the way.
“I’ll get a towel.” Mom ran to the hall closet as Dad ran toward the kitchen.
I could hear cupboard doors slam as Attie’s entire body heaved, grief pouring out of her mouth and all over the floor around us. Dad ran up and held a pot under her head as Mom got busy cleaning up the mess.
“It’s all right, Attiline.” Dad rubbed her shoulder. “Let it all out.”
“How—” She tried to speak but only threw up again.
“You’re gonna be okay,” Dad continued. “We’re gonna get you through this. We’re right here. Just get it all out.”
Powerless to help, all I could do was hold her hair out of the way.
After several minutes, she’d emptied all the contents of her stomach and was left to dry heave into a clean towel. Her face was bright red and wet with tears and sweat, and her eyes darted around the room as if she were searching for something. Maybe she was looking for something to make sense. If so, her search was useless. Nothing made sense at all.
I peeled away the hair that stuck to her face as we all sat on the floor of the entryway. The cold wind blew through the front door that nobody had bothered to close. Attie was in shock. We all were.
All I could think about was how useless I’d become. Her life had just blown up, started to spin wildly out of control, and all I’d done was hold her hair.
chapter 25
(Attie)
I sat on the floor in the corner between the bed and the wall. The night had passed, as well as most of the next day. The Bennetts took turns checking on me throughout the morning, but I finally convinced them to leave me be until I was ready to talk. I knew I wouldn’t be ready to talk any time soon, but I didn’t bother telling them that. It would only cause them more concern.
“What is it that we’re doing locked away in here?” Jesus asked.
“Getting away.”
“From what?”
“From everyone and everything. I’m tired of people feeling like they have to help me. And I can’t stand to see the way they look at me.”
“And how is that?”
“With pity. They feel sorry for me. I’ve become a huge charity case. I can’t even stand to be around myself.”
“Were they complaining?”
“Not to my face.”
“So you believe you were becoming a burden?”
“Of course I was. What else can they do or say? All of my problems must be wearing them out. I know they are me.”
“They love you. They want to help.”
“That’s the point; they can’t help. There’s nothing that they can do or say to make me feel better. I just need time, and they don’t want to give me that. Riley just wants to rush in and fix everything. This can’t be fixed. I’m tired, and I just want to be left alone. That includes you. I want our journey to be over. I want you to go away.”
“I won’t do that. I won’t leave you, even if you want me to.”
“I don’t want you here anymore!”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know.”
“You’re angry with me.”
“Of course.”
“Then come on out with it. Let me have it.”
“I don’t want to. I may something I might regret later.”
“I can take it. No matter what you say to me, it’s not going to change my love for you. You need to let it all out. For you, you need to tell me what you’re thinking.”
“What, like that’s even allowable?”
“Allowable?”
“Isn’t it like a major sin or something to accuse God of something? To be angry with him?”
“Have you read the Bible?”
“Of course.”
“Have you read the book of Psalms? Half of David’s prayers were him letting God have it. He was angry with God for all he’d been through. He didn’t understand how we could let him experience such pain after all that he’d been promised. He was angry and scared and knew God well enough to know that he could be honest about his feelings.
“Attie, you were created with feelings and emotions. You think I don’t know that you’re going to feel those emotions toward me at times?”
My tears flowed. “I don’t want to be angry with you. I can’t lose our relationship.”
“Our relationship isn’t dependant on you only being happy with me. We survived our disagreement at the river, didn’t we? I’ve been through worse and forgiven much more than your anger, I can assure you of that. Attie, you can’t lose me, not ever.”
“Once I get started, I could go on for days.”
Jesus pulled his sleeves up to his elbows, crossed his arms, and stood tall. “Bring it on. I’ve been expecting this.”
“I’m tired, so if you’re expecting a huge production, you’re going to be disappointed. I’m too tired. I’m exhausted.”
“What are you tired of?”
“Everything.”
“Such as?”
“Everything: drama. I’m tired of the fighting and the rumors, and I’m tired of trying to keep it all together. I’m tired of the rejection and insecurity. I’m tired of trying to convince myself that living was worth all this.”
I was fatigued. The kind of exhaustion where you can feel it in your chest and it feels like if you don’t get some rest your heart will stop beating and your lungs will stop breathing. I pictured it like an octopus resting on my sternum, and the more tired I got, the more he wrapped his tentacles around my organs, squeezing them until they no longer functioned.
Sitting there on the floor, I didn’t want to lift my head to look at Jesus. I didn’t want to use what little strength I had left to look at another man who was letting me slip away.
Turning toward the open window, I closed my eyes and slept.
“We aren’t done,” Jesus said, waking me from my slumber. The light outside had changed from bright to a glowing ember.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to tell me what you’re thinking.”
I chuckled. “I’m hardly thinking at all.”
“That’s not true. Thinking is all you’re doing. You’re letting your mind go wild.”
I finally gave in and said the first thing that came to my mind. “They gave me hope that marriages could work. They were proof that you could love one person forever.”
“They shouldn’t be your hope, Attie; your hope should be in me. As I’ve told you before, people will always let you down. If you hold your hope in others, you’ll always end up being disappointed.”
“Well, you aren’t my hope! You aren’t anything. I’m sick of this. I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to do. I’ve believed in you, trusted you, followed you, and my life has done nothing but get worse. How much longer am I supposed to tell others how wonderful you are? How do I keep telling people what a loving God you are when all they see is my life in the crapper? I’m tired. I’m tired of following the rules and having nothing to show for it.”
“Rules? What rules?”
“What rules? Isn’t that what this is all about? Pray enough, trust enough, praise enough, serve enough? When do you uphold your end of this? When does the reward for all of that come?”
“Is that why you’ve been doing all of those things? For a reward? I never gave you a guarantee, Attie. I never said, ‘Follow me and all will go well. Follow me and you’ll have everything you ever ask for.’”
“You’ve taken everything from me.”
“I’ve taken nothing from you. Things have been taken from you, yes, but I didn’t take those things from you.”
“But you allowed them to be taken, right? You’re all powerful. You could have stepped in. You could have changed it. You could have made things better.”
“I did make things better. As you told Riley this summer, I brought you to a place where you were loved and where you could love others.”
“And that one thing is supposed to sustain me forever? You feel like you can keep letting bad things happen to me because you gave me a boyfriend or new friends? Well, I’m not playing by your rules anymore. I’m done with you. Enough.”
We continued, and after what could have been days of arguing with the Lord, all of the energy had drained out of my body and I was weak and exhausted. Feeling completely hopeless and alone, I made the decision to close my eyes and ears to him.
Although the bed looked welcoming, I didn’t want to be comfortable. I wanted to feel the cold air on my skin and the tiredness as it overtook me. I wanted to feel something other than the emotional and spiritual pain that I’d been suffering. I wanted to know that I could feel something else. I’d become an expert at not allowing myself to feel pain. Others, Riley especially, tried their best to shelter me from pain of any kind. But here today, all alone, I wanted to feel it—all of it. I wanted to know that my body, mind, and spirit could be overwhelmed with pain, yet I could still survive.
I had to know that I could survive all on my own.
Many more hours passed without me moving from my spot crouched on the floor. My body was numb, my eyes were heavy, and my thoughts a blur.
Finally, I allowed my eyes to close and the pain to go away.
chapter 26
(Riley)
Attie’s dad went back to New York the same night he’d arrived. Thanksgiving dinner came and went, and three days passed without seeing or hearing anything from Attie. I left food outside her door at every meal, and within a few minutes she would open the door and take it inside. Other than that, we didn’t have any contact.
The Sooners were about to continue their winning streak by beating their rivals, the OSU Cowboys, and I was hoping Attie would be ready to come out of her room and watch the game with the rest of us. Honestly, I didn’t have much interest in watching if she wasn’t watching with me. Without her antics, it wouldn’t be the same.
“Charlie?” I knocked lightly on the door. “The big game’s getting ready to start. Do you wanna come down and watch?”
She didn’t reply.
“Charlie?” I tried to open the door, but it was locked. “Charlie, you’re scaring me. Open the door.” I waited a few seconds before pounding on the door and yelling her name more forcefully.
I heard Dad run up behind me. He pushed me out of the way and knocked on her door. “Attiline, can you open the door?”
There was no response.
“Attiline? Baby girl, can you open the door? I just wanna check on you.”
Silence.
“Have you talked to her at all?” Dad asked. “Have you seen her come and go?”
“I haven’t seen her at all. She’s been really quiet.”
“We’ll give her a minute, and then we’ll let ourselves in.”
Mom walked up behind us. “Just open the door, Tom.”
“Attiline, you’ve got twenty seconds, and then I’m knocking this door down.”
We all stared at the door handle waiting to see it turn, but it didn’t.
“That’s it.” Dad backed away from the door. Lifting his leg, he kicked the door several times until it broke loose from the doorjamb, and he made his way inside.
Instead of Attie’s voice, all we heard were screams from my dad. His voice sounded terrified, which caused my heart to stop beating. “Someone call 911. Dear God, someone call 911!”
I ran to Attie. She was pale and lying unconscious on the floor. I looked for blood but didn’t see any. There was no sign that she’d done any damage to herself. She was just … gone.