Family Inheritance (19 page)

“I'm not leaving you in this house,” Helene declared.

Suzanne's face displayed a combination of sadness and fear. “I've made it this far
without you, Helene. I'll make it through this.”

Suzanne stood up, grabbed her purse from the floor, and walked slowly to the stairs
at the back of the house without glancing back at her sisters.

Chapter 22

Northern Minnesota

As Suzanne climbed the stairs, she kept scanning the space all around her. She had
an eerie feeling that her father was watching and that he was either following her
up the stairs or waiting for her at the top.

The door to her bedroom was closed, and Suzanne's hand trembled as she reached for
the doorknob. Then she quickly pulled her hand away as if the doorknob was hot and
just by touching it she would be harmed. After a moment, she tapped on the door.
“Hello?” Her voice was small and childlike. “Is anybody in there?”

Silence.

Cautiously, Suzanne turned the doorknob. As the door opened, her heart pounded. Her
eyes scanned the small room. The walls were white, the small twin bed was covered
with a quilt, and a wooden chair sat next to the lone window that was opposite the
bed. It looked so much the same that she was mentally transported back to the age
of eight. She heard the voices of that long-ago time—Mama, Helene, Daddy, and Alice.
Daddy was yelling, and Mama was crying. Suzanne was hiding in her room. She was so
afraid when Daddy yelled at Mama. Not because he yelled at her, but because he always
came to Suzanne's room later in the night. He touched her and made her do things
she didn't want to do.

The adult Suzanne fought the memory. “No, no, no,” she screamed into the
room. Then
she grabbed her purse and pulled out the bottle of Jack Daniel's. Raising it to her
mouth, she took a large gulp. Immediately, she felt calmer. She put the cap back
on the bottle and looked out the window. She had vowed she wasn't going to drink
on this trip, and she hadn't gotten drunk the way she often did back home, but she
did have a drink or two each night, just to help her cope. And now . . . she turned
back toward the bed and sunk down into it. She tightened her grasp on the bottle.
That was all she needed—just a drink or two.

As Suzanne scanned the room, she took one long swallow after another. Moments passed.
As the liquor made its way into her system, her vision started to blur. Her father's
face appeared on the wall. Anger gushed from Suzanne. “Bastard! Don't you touch me
anymore. Do you hear me?”

Between each sentence, she raised the whiskey bottle to her lips. “Don't you ever
touch me again. I'll kill you!! So help me, I'll kill you!” Her voice rose to an
hysterical pitch.

“You cheated me, you son of a bitch! You took my childhood away from me. I can never
be a little girl again. I wanted to be Daddy's girl, but not that way, never that
way.” The sound of her sobs echoed in the room. “How could you do that to your own
daughter?” Her voice grew childlike. “You were supposed to protect me from harm.
Daddies are supposed to take care of their little girls—not rape them.” She lifted
the bottle to her lips , taking another large gulp.

“You had sex with me!” she screamed. “You dirty rotten bastard! I hate you. Do you
hear me? I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

She stood up and hurled the bottle at the wall, breaking it into pieces as the liquor
oozed down the wall and onto the floor. During the throw, she'd lost her balance
and stumbled to the floor, cutting her hand on a piece of shattered glass. She started
to cry as she sat among the shattered glass and the memories of her shattered childhood
while she clutched her bleeding hand against her.

“It's your fault. It's all your fault. My messed up life, Stephen, my drinking, and
even Jeff. You did this to me. If you hadn't raped me, I could be normal. I could
love a man, get married, and have kids. It's your fault, and I hate you.”

Blood streamed from her hand onto her blouse. In her drunken haze, Suzanne stared
at the blood.
Red is a pretty color, but that's a lot of blood.
Should a little cut
bleed so much? I should go find Helene.
While trying to stand, Suzanne stumbled again
and reached out to steady herself. She grabbed the closet door handle and pulled
it open. She slipped and landed on her knees, gazing into the full-length mirror
on the inside of the door. For a moment, she was sober as she peered at her image.
Her hair was wildly flying around her face. Mascara had streaked under her eyes,
and the front of her blouse was soaked with blood. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”

“Daddy please help me. I'm sick. Oh my God. I'm sick.” Nausea gripped her. “I did
this. How could I do this?” She shook her head. “You're dead. You can't hurt me anymore.
I'm hurting me. Me. Why am I hurting me, Daddy? Why?”

“God,” she screamed, “help
me. Somebody help me. I love you, Daddy. Oh, God help me. I still love you.” Clutching
her bleeding hand, Suzanne raced from the room, started down the stairs, tripped,
and tumbled down. Intense pain pierced her chest as she hit the floor. Gasping, she
pulled herself up on her knees and half crawled, half walked to the front door. She
pushed against the screen door and fell onto the porch.

Through blurry eyes she could see Helene and Alice waiting by the car.

“Oh my God, Suzanne!” Helene screamed.

Helene and Alice ran to her. “She's bleeding, Helene. God, she's bleeding.”

“Look
at her hand. She's cut bad.” Helene grabbed the scarf that was draped around her
neck, covered the wound, and put pressure on it to try to stop the bleeding. Helene
commanded, “Let's get her to the hospital. Quick!”

And the world spun in circles.

Suzanne groaned as she tried to move in the hospital bed. “Shh, don't move. You're
okay.” Helene's voice was soothing.

“Where am I?” Suzanne groaned again.

“In the hospital.” Helene gently rested her hand on Suzanne's arm. She told her that
Alice had gone to pick up her kids from school, so Helene and Suzanne were alone.

“Hospital? Why?” Suzanne tried to sit up but it was too painful, so she gently lay
back against the bed.

“Two broken ribs, a nasty gash in your hand, and a big bump on your head.”
Helene
leaned in closer and tenderly touched her cheek. “Geez, Suzanne, what did you do
up there anyway?”

Suzanne was silent.

“The doctor said if you hadn't been so drunk, you might have been hurt a lot worse.
How did you get drunk so fast?”

Suzanne smiled a weak, crooked smile. “Drank a whole bottle of whiskey.”

“A whole bottle? Why?”

“That's the only way I know how to cope with demons.”

“Suzanne!” Helene was angry. “You could have bled to death!”

“I know.” Suzanne turned toward the window that had a view of another section of
the hospital.

“Damn! I'm mad at you!” Helene gripped the side railing on the bed. “How could you
do that? Don't you ever do that again!”

Just then, the door to the room opened. “Leave her be, Auntie Helene,” Sarah said
as she, Alice, and Sam stood in the doorway. “She's hurting bad, especially on the
inside.” Sarah quickly moved to Suzanne's bedside. “I'm sorry, Auntie Suzanne. I'm
so sorry. Mom told me this morning that you and I had the same thing happen to us
by our dads.”

Suzanne brushed Sarah's hair away from her face. “Get help while you're young, Sarah.
Don't let it eat away at you. Don't let it kill you.”

Alice's kids didn't resemble each other at all—Sam with his red hair and freckles
and Sarah with her dark brown hair and almost porcelain skin. Neither of them took
after Alice, except for their smiles. Suzanne had always thought that Alice lit up
when she smiled, which wasn't very often, and her kid's smiles were just as infectious.

“What happened to them, Mom?” Sam asked.

“Their dads hurt them, Sam.”

“Like when Dad used to beat me?”

“Something like that,” Alice said, as she and Helene steered Sam toward the door
to go to the cafeteria for a treat, leaving Suzanne and Sarah alone.

After the door closed, Sarah gently folded her arms around Suzanne's neck as they
cried about their shattered childhoods and broken dreams.

Chapter 23

Northern Minnesota

Several days later, Suzanne was in her hotel room resting, and Helene was spending
the evening with Alice, Sarah, and Sam. They were sitting in the small restaurant
that was a part of the hotel where Helene was staying. Helene and Alice sat in the
booth munching on the leftovers from a dinner of hamburgers and French fries while
Sarah and Sam were across the room at one of the video games, armed with a handful
of quarters that Helene had dug from her wallet.

“They're neat kids, Alice.” Helene smiled as she watched Sarah and Sam. “How is Sarah
doing? Did it help her to talk with Suzanne?”

“I think so.” Alice gazed at her children for several minutes. “She said she doesn't
feel as weird and all alone anymore. But I dunno. She still doesn't talk to me about
it much. And she misses Jake. I think it makes her feel weird that she misses him.
She's just trying hard to deal with it all.”

“They really are great kids, Alice. It's amazing with all they've been through that
they aren't acting out more.” Helene's mind was trying to understand how these two
kids, with all of the challenges and abuse they had endured, seemed relatively normal,
yet her own son, who had many more opportunities and a much easier life, had turned
to alcohol.

Over the last weeks, Helene had talked to Thomas several times. He sounded good.
He talked quite a bit about his counselor and about school. He seemed to be getting
back to “the old Thomas,” and from what Helene could
tell from their conversations,
he and Bill were learning to communicate better. Even Bill had mentioned that when
Helene had talked with him last night.

“Yeah.” Alice sadly watched her children. “They just deserve so much more.”

“You'll give it to them,” Helene assured her.

“I don't know how to start.” She glanced at Helene. “Thanks for renting a room for
us these last weeks. The kids needed to get away from the shelter and try to be a
little more normal. And thanks for dinner tonight. The kids love it.”

“It's been a rough month. We all needed a break.” Then she asked, “Why don't you
move, Alice?”

Helene's question obviously startled Alice. “Where would I move to?”

“Where would you move if you could go anywhere you wanted?” Helene's arms opened
to indicate a wide selection.

“To a larger city—maybe Minneapolis.” Alice mused with a smile.

“Then go to Minneapolis,” Helene said.

“Sure. How?” Alice glanced back and Sarah and Sam.

“I said I was willing to help, and I am. I care about you and the kids. I'm just
not very good at showing it.”

“But how could you help?”

Knowing she was entering tender ground, Helene lowered her voice. “I could give you
money to make the move.”

Alice pushed her body back against the booth seat and gripped the edge of the table.
“Damn it, Helene! Money isn't the answer to everything!” She leaned in closer and
whispered, “We know you have lots of money, so quit throwing it at us, okay?”

“I know it's not the answer,” Helene seethed. “If it was the answer to everything,
my life wouldn't be as messed up as it is. But it certainly can make things a lot
easier. Why don't you just take that stupid pride and can it for a while, okay? Can't
we just help each other? Do we always have to be competing? Do you always have to
make me feel like I'm shoving answers down your throat when all I'm trying to do
is care about you?”

Alice's voice was gentle now. “I don't compete with you. I never have, 'cause I could
never win.”

“No, your competing is never to win, Alice. It's done to cripple your opponent so
you won't even have to get into the race.” Helene glanced toward her niece and nephew,
who were still totally involved in the video game.

“How would I decide where to go and what would I do when I got there?” Alice asked
meekly. “The only job I've ever had was when I worked in that restaurant that one
summer in high school. Jake said he wanted his wife home to take care of him,” she
sneered.

“I don't know exactly what you'd do. But we can figure it out.” Helene sighed, then
a quick grin flashed across her face. “Are you interested in going to school? If
you could do anything, how would you like to make a living? Have you thought about
things like that?”