Something About Those Eyes

by Debbie Wheeland

  “Yes, his name is Jeremy.” Kenny said.

  “Why is your car dented?”

  We told him about hanging out with our friends and then Kenny mentioned the story about running over the curb.

  The police officer said, “Would you mind going over to pick up the other couple? I would like to talk to all of you.”

  Kenny borrowed his mom’s car and we went to pick up our friends. We were all a little shaken but we decided to go along with the story Kenny had suggested.

  “There was a hit and run last night and the man whose light pole you ran into was at the front door after he heard the crash. He wrote down your license plate number. I checked your car while you were gone and the dents matched up with his damages. You want to tell me what really happened? And who was driving the car?” The policeman asked.

  Feeling nervous, I stammered, “I, I was, sir.”

  He looked from me to Kenny to the other couple. “Is that true?”

  We all nodded our heads in agreement.

  “You know this is going to cost you your license. Are you sure you were driving?”

  Trembling, I was determined to prove my love to Kenny. “Yes sir, I was.”

  “Were you drinking?”

  “No, I wasn’t.” That part wasn’t a lie.

  “Well I really like your son here and I realize it was an accident so I will only give you a ticket for driving with a suspended license and leaving the scene of an accident. But make sure you never drive like that again. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, yes sir. Thanks.”

  He wrote me the ticket and left. “Take care of that baby. He sure is cute,” he said on the way out.

  “He knew we were lying.” Kenny whispered. “It was because of Jeremy. My mom said he was playing with him the whole time we were gone. The funny thing is you don’t even drive a stick shift,” he laughed.

  I hating lying to the police and I didn’t think it was funny. I just felt guilty.

  My license was only suspended for a few months but it would be years before I would drive again. I figured out later Kenny liked having me stuck at home.

  I didn’t spend much time with my mom that year I lived at Kenny’s childhood home. Since my mother and father-in-law both worked full time, I spent the days alone with Jeremy at my side. My mom worked and spent her spare time going to Alcoholic Anonymous meetings. Occasionally my sister and brothers came over but I rarely went anywhere. I was too embarrassed to put Jeremy in the old-fashioned pram my mom had purchased at a garage sale.

  I spent most of my time cleaning our bedroom, doing our laundry, watching television and hanging out with my son. I counted down the minutes until my husband would come home hoping he would actually come home right after work.

  I never cooked a meal. Evelyn never asked me to help and I never thought to offer. We ate together in silence when the men didn’t show up. I had no friends to talk to. When I occasionally walked across the street to visit my family I felt lonely still wanting desperately to feel loved and accepted by my husband. Sometimes on the weekend Kenny’s brother and his wife would come over with their baby who was only six weeks younger than Jeremy. I looked forward to the times we spent together.

  We never completely stopped fighting and Kenny continued to stay out late and drink usually with his dad.

  “Don’t leave me,” I continued leaning against the bedroom door hoping he’d change his mind and stay home.

  He always shoved me out of the way. “Get away from the door. You know it doesn’t do any good. I’m still going out.”

  He tried not to yell too loudly as his parents were in the next room but sometimes he’d raise a fist and blacken my eye instead. Afterwards I’d stuff my face in the pillow so no one could hear my sobs and I’d berate myself for causing him to hit me, yet again.

  The next morning, I would be ashamed to see his parents, but Kenny always made up a fake reason. “I accidentally slugged her in my sleep, didn’t I, Deb?”

  “Yes, you did,” I’d say.

  Sometimes after coming home late from nights of binge drinking, Kenny was too lazy or too drunk to walk to the bathroom and he’d open the window and puke outside.

  “Kenny,” his mom would yell the next morning, “what’s this out your bedroom window.”

  One of us would get up, run outside, (usually it was me) turn on the hose and squirt the side of the house till all the vomit was cleaned up. “Sorry mom, I’ll never let it happen again.”

  Then there were the days when Kenny couldn’t go to work because he was still drunk from the night before. “Hurry call my boss tell him I’m sick and I can’t go to work today.”

  “Of course,” I’d say. I would go to any lengths to protect him, and we couldn’t afford for him to lose his job.

  We never paid his parents any money. We could come and go, as we liked. We never bought groceries or even took them out for a meal. I never even thought about paying them back for their extreme kindness in letting us live there rent-free. Finally, after a year we moved into our very own apartment once again.

  24

  Sober?

  Don’t be drunk with wine, because that will ruin your life. Instead, be filled with the Holy Spirit.” Ephesians 5:18

  We still had no phone, but there was a payphone downstairs in the lobby right below our apartment. On paydays Kenny and I would go shopping together, pick out a sliced honey-baked ham, buy some French bread and go home to our very own place and eat sandwiches together. I never shopped alone. I didn’t drive and I never carried any cash. I fixed Kenny breakfast each morning, packed his lunch, kissed him on the cheek, and waited for him to come home. In the meantime, I cleaned up the place, played with the baby, bathed and dressed him, and sometimes took him for a walk around the inside of the apartment complex. I was too fearful to walk around outside the building. Continuing to watch soap operas and getting caught up in the world of make-believe when Jeremy took his long naps was my way of escape.

  One time I did venture outside with my son pushing him in the oversized pram. Fear gripped me while I stood at the crosswalk near a busy intersection. As I crossed the street I imagined I could hear people saying, “What’s she doing walking down the street? She’s ugly and worthless. She’s no good. She got pregnant before she was married. Her father molested her and it was all her fault.” I quickly ran back to the safety of my apartment.

  One day I went to do the laundry inside the apartment building. I noticed a little girl about Jeremy’s age and her mom standing near the washer. “Hi my name is Sue and this is Charlene. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Debbie and this is Jeremy.”

  Sue said, “We just moved in and I don’t know anybody.”

  I was thrilled to meet a friend. Sue was a nice Mormon gal about my age. We would sit in our apartments together and talk while we watched the kids play. Sometimes we even went downstairs and took our children to the indoor pool. It was nice to finally have company during the day.

  Nights were still the hardest, especially after payday. I would cook a nice meal, and then eat with my son while I’d wait for my husband to come home. After waiting several hours, with Jeremy on my hip, I’d go down to the payphone at the bottom of the apartment stairs in the lobby and call the local bars. “Is Kenny there?”

  “No, he just left.”

  Sometimes the bartenders would ask, “What does he look like? No, sorry, haven’t seen him.”

  Night after night it was the same scenario. Sometimes he’d hear about my calling and come home angry and scream at me. There were the usual fights, he calling me names, and shoving me. Sometimes he’d repeat, “You were nothing till I met you, and you’ll be nothing when I leave you.”

  Shortly after I met Sue, she invited me to go with her to the woman’s group on Tuesday mornings at her church. It was fun. We learned how to cook s
ourdough bread. We sewed and made crafts. I heard talk about God, which I liked. I even joined the woman’s basketball team. Kenny wasn’t very supportive. He went to my first game and promptly made me quit, yelling at me all the way home, “Other guys might be looking at you. I don’t want you out there with your short shorts and tank top.”

  I cried and begged him to change his mind, but he wouldn’t. Soon afterwards I stopped going with Sue to her woman’s group too. Kenny didn’t approve.

  After payday Kenny would lay the money out on the table and count what we had left for the week. “This is all we have, you need to get a job. I’m sick of you sitting around this house all day doing nothing. It must be nice to sit around and watch TV while I go out every day and work my butt off. I’m tired of being the only who works in this house.”

  I didn’t want to leave Jeremy but my desire to please Kenny became more important. After sharing the news with my sister, she told me about her friend who worked at a restaurant and they needed people to bus tables. I was so excited and my sister and I both got the job. I talked to Sue about the possibility of watching Jeremy while I worked. At first Kenny seemed happy with the news so Monica and I started training for three days. I hadn’t work since I got married and I enjoyed being away from the house for a few hours. I learned how to set up the coffee machine, and clear the tables. My first day on the job would be on Saturday.

  Saturday morning, I woke up early and started getting dressed.

  “How you getting to work today?” Kenny asked.

  “Aren’t you taking me?”

  “No, and I’m not watching Jeremy either.”

  “What am I going to do they are expecting me to come in. I have to show up.”

  “You need to quit after today, I don’t want you working anymore.”

  “Please keep Jeremy today. I promise I’ll quit after I finish my shift.”

  “Well you better not talk to any guys. You hear me,” Kenny screamed.

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  Reluctantly, I called Sue and she drove me to work. I told the boss it was my last day. He paid me in cash. After my shift was over Kenny pulled, up kissed me and took my ten dollars. So much for working!

  A couple weeks later I would be turning twenty. Kenny invited Sue and her husband, Brett over to help me celebrate my 20th birthday. He bought me a low-cut long, sexy, black dress and a dozen roses. Kenny always liked to make a big deal of things when there were people to impress, of course I didn’t realize it at the time. Sue baked me a cake and the four of us, and our kids, sat around eating and talking. It was so much fun. After they left Kenny looked at me suspiciously, “I saw you flirting with Brett.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play innocent. I saw the way he was watching you in your sexy dress. I could tell he was thinking about having sex with you. Don’t act like you didn’t notice.” He raised a fist at me.

  I ran into the bedroom as he pulled at my dress and tried to rip it off of me. Grabbing Jeremy out of his room because he was crying hysterically, I tried to reason with my husband, but he just stood over me calling me names and make allegations against me. Finally, he slammed the door and left. After consoling Jeremy, I buried my head in the pillow and sobbed and cried myself to sleep.

  After that, I tried to avoid Sue, making excuses about why I couldn’t hang out. I couldn’t tell her what Kenny suspected. Eventually she stopped coming over and they finally moved away. I was so lonely with only a small child to spend my time with.

  One day there was a knock on our apartment door. It was an acquaintance from high school. Myrna had been popular in high school and I couldn’t believe she was standing at my door. “I found out you lived here and I want to take you to lunch.”

  Going out to lunch was so foreign to me. Who did that anyways? And Kenny would never allow it even if I wanted to!

  “I will have to call and ask Kenny’s permission first, but I’m sure he won’t let me go anyways”

  She gave me a hug. “Get your coat, let’s go. We will just walk next door to the fast food place. I’m sure Kenny won’t mind.” She said as she grabbed Jeremy’s hand.

  “I don’t have any money.”

  “Silly, I’m going to pay for it, I invited you.”

  “Oh no, I can’t let you do that. I’d better run down to the pay phone and call Kenny’s work and ask him if it’s okay.”

  “Debbie, It’s fine. We won’t be gone long. I will have you home long before Kenny gets home from work.”

  “I don’t want him to get mad at me.”

  “You’re not doing anything wrong. It will be okay, trust me.”

  After much cajoling, she talked me into it and the three of us walked across the street and sat down for a lunch of hamburgers and French fries. Once I relaxed, I started enjoying myself.

  “It’s so nice to be out of the apartment.”

  It was even better to have someone to talk to. I was so grateful to Myrna. Over the next few months she’d pick me up take me down to the city of Security where she still lived. It was only a few miles from my mom’s house and Kenny’s folk’s house. She would make lunch for Jeremy and me. I was always back home in time to make Kenny dinner. Sometimes he even met me at Myrna and Frank’s house for dinner. I was so grateful to have a friend.

  During this time, my mom had been attending AA for over a year. She showed up at my door unexpectedly one day, “Debbie, you need to go to Alanon.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I believe your husband is probably an alcoholic and Alanon is a support group for friends and families of people with drinking problems. It’s based on the twelve steps of AA but it’s for people who don’t drink. They learn how to live and be happy in spite of the fact that they’re married to alcoholics.”

  “But Kenny’s not an alcoholic. He doesn’t get drunk every day.” I was angry with her for even suggesting it.

  “Listen to me, he doesn’t have to drink every day and get drunk all the time. It’s what happens when he drinks. It changes his personality. He tells himself he’s going to stop and he can’t. An alcoholic will deny he has a problem while he’s falling down drunk, even after he’s lost his job and his family. He will blame everything and everybody else but his drinking. It’s a disease of denial. He denies he has a problem and his family and boss keep protecting him and they deny he has a problem. But the family gets sicker and sicker right along with the alcoholic.”

  I did not know what she meant when she said the family gets sicker and sicker.

  She said a higher power could restore me to sanity, was she saying I was insane? She explained how she had found a higher power that gave her courage to stop drinking one day at a time. She admitted her thoughts were twisted in her drinking days. “I am an alcoholic and I didn’t get drunk every day, but I still had a drinking problem and an addiction to my pills. That’s why I acted the way I did.”

  I was still confused. “But Kenny works hard every day and he pays the bills. How is he an alcoholic?”

  “Does his drinking ever cause a problem for you guys? Do you call in sick for him? Do you take the blame for him? Does he act like a different person when he’s been drinking?”

  She knew I had to answer yes to all those questions. She got me thinking. Weeks went by and she kept prompting me to get help. She found a group that met close to my house on Wednesday mornings.

  “The meeting only lasts an hour and there is childcare available. I even talked to someone and a woman name Rosa will stop by and pick you up.”

  “But Mom, I can’t go. Kenny would never allow it.”

  “Kenny won’t even know you left the apartment. He will be away at work on Wednesday mornings and without a phone he can’t check up on you. Don’t be afraid.”

  “But I’m scared of what he’d do if he found out.”


  “Please, just try it, I will do whatever I can to help you out,” my mom reassured me.

  The next day was Wednesday, I somehow found the courage to get Jeremy dressed and wait outside for the women my mother had spoken to. Rosa was eight years older than me and she agreed to pick me up and drop me off every Wednesday morning after that. Each Wednesday I was sure Kenny would know I was attending my meeting but every week I began to feel stronger and vowed that I would continue. Jeremy even liked having other kids to play with at the nursery.

  The first thing I learned was to quit arguing with Kenny. At the meetings, I heard things such as: Just keep your mouth shut, especially when he’s been drinking. You can’t reason with a drunk, and he can’t argue with himself. Quit calling the bars. Don’t pour his alcohol down the drain, he’ll just get more. You didn’t make him drink and you can’t make him stop. It’s not your fault he drinks. He had a problem long before you married him. There were phrases such as “live one day at a time,” “keep it simple,” and “let go and let God.” It was a different way of looking at life. I was beginning to understand what the words “sick” and “insanity” meant. Alanon defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. I had never heard that definition before. The more I kept an open mind and examined my motives, and beliefs, the more I realized how irrational and unreasonable I had become by believing I was powerful enough to make Kenny behave in a certain way. If I just treated him well and cared more about him he would want to change. I had been living in denial and Alanon was giving me the tools to reach for sanity, one day at a time.

  I realized that insanity in my relationship meant I focused more on Kenny than on myself and my child. I let Kenny dictate my self-esteem, blamed myself for his addictive behavior and his meanness. I tried to hide the fact that my husband had a drinking problem, tried to control his behavior and made excuses for him. I originally attended Alanon because I wanted some pointers on how to get him to stop drinking, soon I began to realize the program was about changing me for the better.