Sister of Silence (29 page)

“All right. Now, the question is, where do you go from here? Do you have a plan?”

“I’m going to stay with Shirley and Butch awhile. They’ve been so good to us, telling me to take as long as I need. They’re like family.”

“You and Shirley come from similar backgrounds, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes, she’s also the adult child of an alcoholic.”

“So you have a lot in common. I’m sure it’s nice, being around someone who cares about you, and to whom you can relate.”

I smiled, remembering how much Shirley and I had shared. “Yes, it’s been really nice. When they took us home last night, she and Butch were so thoughtful, taking care of the kids so I could get some rest.”

“Well, you probably have a lot to consider, so during the next week don’t forget that it may get harder, especially when you tell Eddie. Be cautious, and don’t rush things. Take care of yourself and don’t try to do too much too soon.”

“I know,” I said.

“If you’re feeling better, we’ll stop here for today,” Trudy said.

I smiled. “I’m feeling much better.”

I felt as though a vacuum was sucking out all my energy during the next several weeks. I returned to the house once more, to gather up my computer and all of the journals I had kept throughout the years. I was afraid Eddie would destroy them, once he realized I wasn’t going back to him.

My heart was a dead weight inside my chest as I raced from room to room, in case Eddie returned unexpectedly. I felt like a felon, fleeing the scene of a crime.

I hate this. It’s so unfair, having to run away, when I haven’t done anything wrong
.

At the same time, I finally knew the unimaginable had happened. I wasn’t returning to Eddie.

I’ll never go back!

A day later, I knew it was time. I gathered the kids together and cautiously told them about my decision, trying to make sure they knew it wasn’t their fault. “Mommy, why do we have to leave? Why can’t we go back and live with Daddy?” Trista asked.

I took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. “Sometimes things happen and mommies and daddies can’t live together anymore. So they live apart.” I waited, trying to let it sink in. “But you kids will still get to see us both. And we love you as much as we ever did.”

Slade began crying. “You made Daddy leave!”
He marched off, refusing to return even when I called after him. I watched him, trying to blink back my own tears.

If only you knew. If only I could tell you. How angry you are. Already. My staying this long has made you one angry little boy.

I turned to the girls. They were trying to be brave and console me at the same time. I looked into their eyes, hoping they could see how much I hated to hurt them.

“I’m so sorry. I wish it didn’t have to be like this. Just remember, none of this is your fault. You kids have done nothing wrong. Do you understand?” I asked my daughters.

“Yes,” they said in unison.

I tipped back Trista’s chin and looked into her eyes. “Do you?”

She nodded.

But I didn’t believe her. I didn’t believe any of them.

A week later, Trudy’s words shocked me.

“You did the right thing by leaving, so you could protect your children,” she said. “It’s rare for a mother to do that, to put her children’s well-being before her feelings for her husband.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t really a choice; it’s the only thing I could do. I know they’ve already been harmed enough; there was no way I was going to stay and let their father hurt them even more.”

“Well I just wish more women would choose their children over their men,” Trudy said as she hugged me.

Because the violence had been so harmful, Trudy began seeing the kids to help them learn healthy ways of coping with their pain and anger. She was teaching them how to express it on paper, using crayons. They drew pictures of what went on at home, and Trudy told me their artwork was quite revealing. They were sad, mad, and afraid: that Eddie might hurt me, that we would get divorced, that they were to blame for the fighting. It seemed there was an unending well of feelings Trudy was drawing up, but it didn’t come without a fight.

They balked at going, and pouted when I said they had to. I learned Eddie had contributed to their resistance, after the kids told me their father said Trudy had threatened to have him arrested. I told the kids that wasn’t true, but Eddie’s negative attitude rubbed off on them anyway. Eventually though, instead of hearing their complaints all the way to her office, which was happening less and less, they began coming away from the sessions feeling a little better about themselves. Under the circumstances, it was about the best I could hope for.

Once I told Linda what had been happening at home, she was warm and empathetic, and granted me a leave of absence so I could take care of my family while getting a much-needed break.

“You deserve it, and your job will
be here waiting for you,” Linda said, with an awkward hug.

“Thank you. That means so much to me,” I said, close to tears.

I didn’t know how I could give up journalism, because of all it had given me. I felt like a different person, and I loved taking people’s stories and writing about them. I loved the boring meetings, too, because it was a challenge to find something interesting to write about that people would want to read. Mostly, I would miss being able to tell people the truth, about what was going on in their own small corner of the world. But when I walked out of the building, I wasn’t sure I would—or could—ever return.

Ironically, Eddie called and offered to find somewhere else to live so the kids and I could stay in the house, the same day I went to see about obtaining a legal separation. Because there had been violence in the home, Rita Ashton, the family law attorney I hired, recommended I ask the court to grant me a protective order. But I told Rita I didn’t think it was necessary, because I was sure Eddie wouldn’t try to hurt us anymore—especially since he still hoped I would take him back, and he wouldn’t want to do anything that might mess up his chances with me.

Rita also told me that even if Eddie gave me money to live on, I might have to file for bankruptcy. She encouraged it, since my debts outweighed any possible income I would have in the near future. Rita asked me if I had any money at all and I told her I didn’t. Then I remembered our savings account. I told Rita it was set aside for home improvements, but she said if I could withdraw it, I could use it to live on—if Eddie hadn’t already taken it. But I told Rita I didn’t want to touch any of the money if Eddie was willing to pay me enough on a regular basis, so I could make ends meet. A few days later I decided to call him and see what we could work out.

But that’s when Eddie told me that since I was filing for a legal separation, he was filing for divorce. He angrily said he wouldn’t give me a cent. Much earlier, his refusal would have caused me to crawl right back to him, so
instinctively I knew that’s what Eddie was counting on. But I wasn’t the child he had married, and I had no intention of making that mistake again. I was older, wiser, and stronger. I was a woman who had learned she could take care of herself—and her children. So instead of getting angry or trying to coerce him into supporting us, I hung up.

I’ll never go back to him, and I’ll do whatever I have to, to support my children myself
.

The next day after dropping the kids off at school, I drove straight to the bank, giving myself a mental pep talk all the way there. As I got out of the car, I knew I hadn’t been that nervous since the day Eddie threatened me at the school. The bank wasn’t open yet, so I took a few minutes to gather my composure, walked over to the newspaper office.

The receptionist waved at me. “Hi the
re, Daleen. How’s it going?” Nancy Robertson’s cheerful demeanor was infectious, and I felt my spirits begin to lift. After I had told Linda I needed a few weeks off, it didn’t take long for the small staff to learn what had happened, and their moral support was so helpful.

“
I’m fine,” I told Nancy, “I needed to stop by the bank and I just wanted to say hello. Does everyone miss me?” I asked, trying to shed my nervousness.

“We surely do. It’s just not the same without you. Is that husband of yours still bothering you?” she asked.

“Of course. But not for long. We’re getting a divorce.”

“Good for you! Good for you! I’ve always said no woman should have to live with a man who treats her badly
.” Nancy was openly empathetic.

I shook my head wryly. “It just took me a long time to realize that’s what it was.”

“Well, at least you had the good sense to see it in time. Some women don’t.” Her expression was grim.

“Yes, you’re right. Well, I’ve got to get to the bank. I’ll stop in again. Please tell
Linda I stopped by.”

“I’ll do that, Daleen. Take care
.” Nancy gave me a reassuring smile before I turned and left the building. I hadn’t taken more than six steps when I saw him—a tall, slender man wearing a baseball cap hurrying down the steps of the bank building. His head was down and he was putting something into his wallet.

Eddie! What’s he doing here?

For a minute, I thought I might faint from fear, my heart was beating so rapidly. There was no way for him to know what I planned to do, since I hadn’t told anyone but my attorney.

What if
…what if he already beat me to it?

I gave myself a mental shake.

Relax. He can’t hurt you. You’re in broad daylight and there are people everywhere.

I casually glanced toward the county jail and then nonchalantly back toward Eddie, and saw him staring directly at me. Half a dozen more steps and we would pass each other. Would he grab me? Would he try to force me into his car, like the man who had raped his wife at gunpoint just last year? I had covered the story and knew she, too, had left a horrible home life. He later found her and forced her into his car, where he raped her in front of their two, small children. It was one of the most poignant domestic violence stories I’d covered, and it was pivotal in helping me to see the violence within my own family.

Forcing myself to stop thinking about that story, I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

Relax Daleen, it’s going to be okay. Besides, the sheriff’s office is across the street. Just scream loud and long and ev
eryone will come running—and Nancy will be the first one out the door to help!

The vision of Nancy
beating Eddie with her bare hands made me chuckle. By then I got so tickled by the idea, I had to bite the back of my hand to quell my laughter.

“Hello, Daleen. Fancy meeting you here.” Eddie spoke without malice, and I even sensed some humor. Certainly a hint of sarcasm, but nothing that alerted me to any impending danger.

“Yes, I had to stop by the office for a minute,” I said, trying to act as though we were friendly neighbors meeting on the street corner.

“Oh, you’re working then?”

“You know I had to take a temporary leave of absence. That’s why it really would be good if you could give us some monetary support right now—for the kids’ sake.” As long as we were standing face-to-face, in person, I hoped the added pressure might prick his conscience.

He stood there, one hand rubbing his chin. “Well, I thought maybe you might change your mind and come back. After all, we’ve had these little disagreements before and we’ve been able to work them out.” He didn’t move a muscle, and managed to look quite smug as he stood there, waiting me out.

I swallowed hard, gazing just beyond his shoulder. As Eddie’s words sank in, I recalled all the times in the past when money had been an issue with him—when he had used it to manipulate, subdue or control me. He had done it throughout our entire marriage, which is why I began researching relationships, and learned how money and sex cause the biggest arguments. With money, Eddie had always gone from one extreme to another. Either he spent it on things we didn’t need or couldn’t afford—or he abdicated his responsibility, dumping it in my lap—only to give me grief when there wasn’t any left to buy his “toys” because I used it to pay bills. Then there were the times he had controlled it so tightly it hurt his family. I recalled his first layoff from the mines, when I struggled just to feed our family with the free commodities we received.

And you were too selfish to give up that stupid luxury car, which kept us from being able to get food stamps, simply because a vehicle was more important to you than we were!

Coming out of my reverie, I looked straight into his eyes. “No, not this time. It won’t work.”

He shrugged, and a disgusting smile crept onto his face. “Well then, I guess my answer is still ‘no’
, I’m not giving you a cent. See you later.” Eddie turned and walked away.

I stood there staring, resisting the urge to scream, “What about your children, you creep? Don’t you care anything about what happens to them?” Instead, I remained mute, saying nothing.

Some things never change.

I squared my shoulders because, in reality, he had just made it much easier for me to drain the savings account. If I’d had doubts before, he had convinced me there was no way to save my marriage, and I was better off without him.