Family Inheritance (24 page)

Evan's voice grew stronger. “I pushed for achievement all my life, never taking care
of myself or stopping to smell the roses. And the harder I pushed, the more I needed
help dealing with the stress. Alcohol and prescription drugs were my answers. I could
diagnose everyone else's problems, but I couldn't see my own. So, I kept getting
worse and worse. I wouldn't listen to anyone. I was a doctor; I gave help. I didn't
need it.

“So I lost everything. My wife, my family, my job. I hit bottom.” Despair filled
his voice. “But I'm coming back. It's been a year now. A year that I've taken one
day at a time. Some days I cling to God, my higher power, with desperation, and some
days I don't have to clutch quite so hard. But I'm making it and beginning to love
myself in the process. That's what counts.” Evan stepped away from the platform and
applause sounded throughout the room.

“Why is he in the program if he hasn't had a drink for a year?” Suzanne asked Annette.

“He probably just comes in for the meetings. These meetings are open to the public.
They're like AA meetings, only a little different.”

“Different, how?”

“AA meetings are basically sharing stories of day-by-day life as an alcoholic. Here
they also give us information about alcoholism. So, it's the same, but different.”

Suzanne sat back. “Does everybody have to get up and speak? Do they make you?”

Annette smiled. “Suzanne, nobody forces you to do anything. Your recovery is your
responsibility.”

A woman stepped up to the microphone. She was tall and slender with waist-length
black hair. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties. “Hi. My name is Sherry, and I'm
an alcoholic.”

“Hi, Sherry.” Suzanne sat back as those around her participated in the greeting.

“Because of alcohol,” Sherry continued, “I almost killed my baby.” She wiped at her
cheeks as though tears were running down them, but Suzanne was too far away to tell.
“I was so excited when I was pregnant, and I tried not to drink too much. I didn't
want to hurt the baby. So, I only drank at night—a nightcap to help me sleep. My
daughter was small when she was born, and her immune system was very weak. By drinking
through my pregnancy, I didn't give her a very good start. Well, she cried a lot.
The first six months it seemed as though I never got a moment's peace. As the demands
of motherhood grew, so did my drinking. It got to the point that I'd start drinking
as soon as my husband left for work. By the time he came home, I was bombed. I'd
plead fatigue, and he seemed to believe me.”

Sherry was openly crying now. “One day I was bathing Penny. She was in her baby bath
inside the tub. Penny had cried throughout her whole bath. I was exhausted, so I
left her there to go to the bedroom and get a drink.” The tears were now streaming
down her face.

“She was in her baby bath. I thought she'd be okay.” Sherry took a deep breath. “When
I came back, Penny was lying facedown in the water with the baby bath on top of her.
Somehow she had turned it over.”

Annette was crying, and Patrice was sniffling as Suzanne fought to keep her emotions
under control.

“She wasn't breathing. I threw a towel around her and stumbled to my neighbors. My
neighbor started mouth-to-mouth, and her sister called the ambulance. Thank God.
They saved my daughter, but the doctors say she'll have some brain damage. They just
don't know how much.” Sherry sobbed into a tissue. “My daughter has paid an enormous
price for my addiction, and it almost cost her life. That was my bottom. Day by day,
I struggle to get my
life back so I can give my daughter the life she deserves.”
She took another huge breath. “I've lost her for a while. My husband left me and
got custody of Penny. But we're working our way back together. I've hurt a lot of
people, not the least of whom is myself.”

Not the least of whom is myself . . . not the least of whom is myself . . .
The words
echoed through Suzanne's mind followed by the memory of Annette's words, “Haven't
you hurt anyone? Haven't you?”

Chapter 30

Atlanta, Georgia

“Helene? Hi, it's Laura. I've missed you at our tennis groups.”

“Oh, hi, Laura,” Helene spoke into the phone as she sunk back into the leather loveseat
in the den. “I don't think I'll be coming to the girl sessions anymore.”

“Why not?” Laura's voice revealed disappointment.

Be honest, Helene.

Helene sunk deeper into the chair. “Laura, I grew up in an alcoholic home,” she confessed.
“I just can't enable or tolerate Stephanie and Catherine's drinking problems anymore.
And what did we have beyond that?” She paused for a brief second. “We don't really
know anything about each other. I mean, we didn't get to be friends. I'm not sure
I know how to have real friendships, but I know that our tennis group wasn't a good
example.”

Laura was quiet for several moments. Helene's mind raced.
Well, your first try at
honesty might just have backfired in your face.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to
make amends for her honesty. “I'm sorry, Laura. I didn't mean to say anything to
upset you.”

“No, you didn't.” Laura paused again. “You've changed, Helene. I can hear it in your
voice. There's a strength I haven't heard before. Something's changed you. What is
it?”

“It's a long story.”

“I have a lot of time,” Laura replied.

Suddenly, Helene's need for a friend rushed to the surface. “What are you doing now?”

“Nothing right now. It's my turn in the carpool today, so I pick up the kids at three,
but until then, I'm free.”

“Do you feel like grabbing your suit and coming over for a swim, a glass of iced
tea, and some talk?” The invitation flowed smoothly from her lips, and Helene felt
excited.

Surprise registered in Laura's voice. “I'd love to, but I'm not sure if I can find
you in the daylight.” They'd known each other for several years, but this was the
first time Helene invited Laura to her home other than for dinner parties that she
had hosted for Bill.

Helene laughed. “I know. My invitations haven't been proffered very often in the
past.”

“Are you turning over a new leaf?” Laura laughed.

“I'm trying to. I'm really trying to.”

The water glistened off their wet bodies as the two women lay on lounge chairs in
the warm September sunshine next to the kidney-shaped pool. “I saw Bill in the grocery
store when you were away. I was surprised to see him. I thought Lily does all the
shopping.”

“She does.” Helene smiled as birds chirped in the distance, and the sounds of Lily's
music and her attempt to sing along floated out to the pool. “It must have been her
night off. I guess they got tired of ordering pizza.”

Laura adjusted herself on the chair and put on her sunglasses. “Bill said your mother
was ill and that you and your sisters were back in Minnesota.”

Helene nodded as she glanced around the beautifully landscaped backyard, feeling
appreciation for the life she had.

“I didn't know your mother was still alive or that you had sisters.”

“See?” Helene said with a smile. “I told you we don't know anything about each other.”

Laura turned on her side and leaned against her elbow. “So, tell me. I'm
curious.
I'm especially curious about what's made the big changes in you. You seem like a
totally different person.”

Helene was quiet for several moments, then she rolled onto her side to face Laura.
“What was your childhood like?”

Laura removed her sunglasses. “Like? I'm not sure I know what you mean?”

“Was it happy?” Helene paused. “Were you all close?”

Laura glanced at the water in the pool, then she answered, “Yes, it was happy but
lonely. I'm an only child. My parents both had careers, but they spent as much time
with me as possible. I didn't do a lot of things that children typically do, however.
So, my people skills aren't very good. I don't have a lot of friends.”

Helene heard Laura's words, but they didn't penetrate because she was already lost
in her own thoughts. When Laura finished speaking, Helene hesitantly began talking.
“My dad was an alcoholic. He yelled and screamed a lot, and my mother complained
about everything. We weren't very close. In fact, I shut my family away from me for
years. Then Mom got sick.”

“Is she . . . okay?” Laura reached over and gently touched Helene's arm.

“She has diabetes,” Helene responded. “We didn't know.” Helene paused and glanced
at Laura. “She didn't take care of herself, didn't eat right, and the doctor said
she must not have taken her shots, because she went into a diabetic coma. And there's
been no change. We finally had to put her in a critical care nursing home. She's
in limbo, and that's sort of how my life has felt. It's like I was hanging between
the past and the future, never touching the present.”

Helene removed her sunglasses and ran her hand along the cushion of the lounge chair,
avoiding Laura's eyes as she asked, “How do you feel about me now that you know my
father was an alcoholic?”

“Why would I feel any differently?” Laura sat up. “I still want you to be my friend.”

“Do you like me less because my background wasn't a normal one?”

“What's normal?” Laura sadly smiled. “I certainly wouldn't consider my background
normal. Besides, look at you. You certainly didn't stay stuck in your background.
You should be proud of yourself.”

“Proud? Why?” Helene was startled by the response.

“Look at your life—how good it is.”

Helene silently drew wet circles on the tile beside her lounger as they sat quietly
for several minutes.

“Laura, do you and James have a good relationship?”

During the years Helene had known Laura, she had never before asked questions or
even taken an interest in her personal life, as she didn't want anyone asking questions
of her.

“Yes,” Laura said. “We have a good relationship, but we both work really hard at
it. I have to make him a priority, and he has to do the same with me. It took us
many years to discover that, and we just about didn't make it through those years.”

“You mean divorce?” Helene's eyes searched Laura's face as if to make sure she was
telling the truth.

“I mean divorce with a capital ‘D.' Work seemed more important than I was. I even
accused him of having an affair,” Laura replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Was he?” Helene gulped the question.

“He says he wasn't, but it took me a long time to believe him. The marriage was so
bad that I tried to find something to blame it on. Then I decided to take all the
guilt onto myself. That somehow I must be failing or we'd get along better. Then
I'd fluctuate and blame the fighting all on him. Finally, I decided I was going to
be happy and ask for what I wanted.” She smiled. “Believe it or not, he listened,
and it worked.”

“You make it sound really easy.”

“It wasn't.” Laura sank back onto the cushion and stretched out. The breeze gently
blew the leaves of the weeping willow tree at the far edge of the backyard. “We finally
decided that we wanted the marriage to work and went to counseling as a last effort
to save it.”

“It apparently worked,” Helene answered softly.

“Sure, the counseling worked, but so have we. And very hard too.”

Thoughts tumbled through Helene's mind.
But James didn't actually have an affair;
that makes it easier, doesn't it? Was Bill's cheating just an excuse for neither
of us to have to work on the marriage?
She squirmed in her chair
.
She didn't know
anymore. Maybe there was hope, but did she even want there to
be hope? He wasn't
cheating anymore, at least not from what she could tell.
Can it really be better?
Helene glanced toward Laura, who was lying face up soaking in the sun, her sunglasses
covering her eyes.

“What did James say when you accused him of cheating?”

“He said that me even thinking he had an affair made him feel like he had. He called
his work ‘his mistress' and that it helped build up his ego instead of turning to
me and our marriage to feel good about himself.” Laura picked up her glass of iced
tea. “Somehow we had forgotten to turn to each other to feel good about ourselves.
In marriage, we forget to do that. We focus on everything else—the kids, money, jobs.”

“Did you really believe him, Laura?” Helene stretched out on her chair with her sunglasses
in place and stared at the fluffy white clouds floating in the blue sky.