Something About Those Eyes

by Debbie Wheeland

  Some nights I’d cry myself to sleep after the kids went to bed. I missed my husband. I wanted things to work out. I didn’t want to get a divorce. I would change and do whatever it took to save my marriage. Fortunately, my mom continued to talk to me, insisting that I persuade Kenny to go to AA before I made a decision to return home.

  Kenny constantly called my mother demanding she tell him where I was. She refused to tell him. Instead Mom tried to talk some sense into him and encouraged him to stop drinking. She felt like she understood Kenny since they were both alcoholics.

  After almost two weeks, my mom stopped by to see me. “Kenny said he promised to go to AA if you come home. This time I think he’s serious. You need to call him and tell him you’ll come home.”

  Feeling a little anxious, I dialed my phone number.

  “Where are you? I’ve been talking to your mom and I promise if you come home, I’ll go to AA. I’m sorry I hit you.”

  Those were the words I needed to hear. My heart softened. I had made up my mind. I believed things would change. I was going home.

  The first few weeks after I returned home Kenny faithfully went to AA. Shortly afterwards, my father and his wife, Sandy had moved into town and we let them park their dilapidated trailer in front of our house and plug into our electricity. Even after all he had done, I still needed my father’s love and approval. I wanted to convince him that he was forgiven for the past. I still believed that everything that happened to me as a little girl was my fault and I had no ill feelings towards him, but it was me I couldn’t forgive. Dad cooked dinner for us whenever Kenny went to his AA meetings, two or three times a week.

  My dad and Sandy finally left and rented a house and life went back to normal for us once again. Things seemed to be going along just fine and then Kenny came home drunk and it started all over again. Apparently, Kenny’s first binge started when he stopped by to visit my dad and he offered him a drink. Thanks, Dad!

  The little bit of hope I had held on to left me and I retreated further into my sorrow and self-pity, wondering what I had done wrong this time. I felt like a failure. I forgot about my threats to leave if he started drinking again. I was too scared to do anything. Why are you punishing me God?

  It was easy to feel like everything was okay during the day. I was home with my children while my husband was at work. Although I still had my part-time job at the elementary school, I usually only worked a few times a month. By now Kristy was nearly six months old and Jeremy was a very helpful preschooler. Kenny and I had not been getting along very well. I had my Alanon on Wednesday mornings and I was working on the fourth step, which was to make a fearless and moral inventory about myself. Since I enjoyed writing, I picked up a notebook and every chance I got I wrote down all my angry and resentful thoughts and other things I needed to work on. I wrote about my unkind thoughts towards others. And how I had harmed others with my expectations or judgmental attitudes. I thought about my fears and worries, and listed all that I was grateful for. After finishing I slipped the notebook in my bedroom drawer. My next step was to share that inventory with another member and then to make amends to everyone I had harmed. Afterwards, I would throw the notebook away.

  One day I came home from grocery shopping and realized Kenny had come home early from work. As I walked into the bedroom I saw him reading everything I had written down. I stood in the doorway filled with fear and gasped.

  “What’s this? I can’t believe you wrote all those awful things down. Who am I married to? What a b___h you are!” Throwing the notebook at me, he screamed, “I don’t even want to look at you. You disgust me.” Kenny immediately slammed the door and left.

  It was hard to follow the regular routine and get supper started. Later, after getting the kids to bed for the night, I collapsed on my bed and cried out to God asking him to forgive me for being such an awful person, and felt angry with myself for having written everything down. After calling my sponsor she helped me to understand how important it was to journal my thoughts. I decided I would just have to be smarter and hide my notebook. She assured me I had done nothing wrong.

  For several weeks after that, every time we argued, Kenny would bring up all the things I had written. When that finally ended, he resumed his old habits, staying out drinking till all hours of the night.

  Even though I never knew when Kenny would be coming home it was still my habit to stop whatever I was doing at four o’clock every day and began cleaning the house, making beds, doing laundry, and vacuuming. After starting dinner, I would turn on my hot rollers, put a few curls in my hair and apply my makeup. As I changed out of my rumpled clothing into something cute I’d look at myself in the full-length mirror. Hopefully, Kenny will think I look pretty and think I’m skinny enough. I had lost all my baby weight and looked better than I ever had. I kept my hair curled and always wore mascara to enhance my hazel eyes, which was my best feature. I hoped I looked cute in my colorful summer dress that hugged my twenty-four-inch waist.

  Unfortunately, he rarely noticed what I looked like. I hardly ever received a compliment. But I continued to be the best wife and mother I knew how to be, spending time with my children while waiting and hoping my husband would come home from work and eat dinner with the family.

  “Are we going to wait for Daddy again to eat?” My four-year-old asked.

  “No, let me put the baby down and we will eat dinner.” I’d turn away hoping he wouldn’t see the tears escaping. It would be another lonely night wondering where my husband was.

  Sometimes we would hear his car pull up when it was still light outside and Jeremy would run to the window. “Yeah! Daddy’s home.”

  He’d pass by Jeremy without saying a word and stomp into the kitchen. “Where is my dinner?”

  No matter what time he came home his home-cooked meal was always waiting for him. I’d serve him, pouring his soft drink, buttering his bread and cutting his meat. Jeremy would sit at the table, hoping to spend time with his father while I fed the baby. Sometimes Kenny spoke to him, ignored him or tried to start a fight with me. We never knew how the evening would turn out. Oftentimes, my husband would lie in front of the television set, with Jeremy snuggled up against him, and fall asleep.

  Other times he’d come traipsing in the kitchen look down at his plate and scream. “Where’s my steak? I’m a meat and potato man. You expect me to eat this? Fix me a steak. I’m cleaning up, and it better be ready as soon as I’m done.”

  I could hear the shower while I scrambled to find a frozen steak. It was at times like this that I wished I had a microwave oven. As I put the steak in a skillet, I willed for it to hurry up and cook. Is he going out? Is he leaving? I have to have his dinner ready so he won’t leave. Opening a can of baked beans, I’d warm them up put everything neatly on a plate.

  “It’s ready.”

  I could smell the cologne before he entered the kitchen. It permeated everything he touched.

  “What’s this? You think I’m eating this? I’m going out.”

  “But I made steak. Look everything’s ready for you. Why are you going out?”

  “Look at this house, it’s a mess. Why can’t you be a better housekeeper?” Throwing open the cupboard and drawers. “You’re a slob just like your mother. Come over here, look at this.” Pointing to a spot of dirt on the wall, “It better be cleaned by the time I get home!” Slamming the door, he’d get in the car and I’d hear it roar down the street.

  As I crumpled into a chair, hiding my head in my lap, a sweet quiet voice would say, “Mommy, what’s wrong. Why are you crying?”

  Quickly, I straighten up and wipe away my tears, determined not to let my child see how upset I was. Thankfully, the baby was usually asleep. I had to maintain a sense of normalcy as I bathed my son and helped him pick up his toys. Then I would read him a story till he fell asleep. Soon afterwards Kristy would wake up, she needed to be fed and receive
a little attention. Hours later after both kids were sleeping peacefully, I’d lay in my room and cry out to God, “Why is this happening to me, why am I so bad? I must deserve to be treated like this. Why does he go out? Why does he treat me so bad? How can I change myself so he will love me? Why do you hate me, God?” All my Alanon teachings had been forgotten at times like these.

  I’d play the waiting game and try to fall asleep but I was afraid if I did Kenny wouldn’t come home. Perhaps he’d be in a terrible accident and die. I had to stay awake willing him to be safe. It never occurred to me I was repeating the past, only now I worried about Kenny dying, instead of my mother. Sometimes I’d turn on the radio and listen to Dr. Joyce Brothers. She was a psychologist who answered people’s questions about their problems. I kept waiting for someone to say something similar to my problems. Nobody ever did. Where did my serenity go?

  Usually after two o’clock in the morning I’d hear a key in the lock. Sometimes I’d pretend to be asleep. Other times I’d run to greet him, feeling excited to finally see my husband. Sometimes I’d scream, “Where have you been?” Most of the times I’d clean up his vomit and then lie there while he had his way with me. I’d keep my eyes tightly shut pretending it wasn’t happening. After all, this is what a good wife was supposed to do---wasn’t it?

  One night when Kristy was seven months old Kenny and I went out to a movie without the kids. Standing in the ticket line I noticed an extremely attractive man coming towards us. He was probably the best-looking guy I had ever seen. My heart did a little twitter as I noticed his eyes met mine.

  “Kenny, is that you?” He asked.

  “Hey Randy, how the hell are you?” said Kenny. “Oh, this is my wife, Debbie.”

  He shook my hand and I was too busy gazing into his eyes to notice his fiancée standing beside him. “This is Jill,” he said.

  I hardly heard a word when Kenny explained he and Randy worked together and he was the boss’s son.

  The four of us sat together in the movie and all the while I found myself daydreaming about wanting to be alone with Randy. I just couldn’t help myself. I had the biggest smile on my face coming out of the movie theater.

  Days went by and I couldn’t stop thinking about Randy. I had only felt like this when I had a crush on some actor on my favorite soap opera. I found myself thinking of reasons to use the car, hoping I’d see Randy when I dropped Kenny off at work. Sometimes I did and we’d make small talk. I also noticed the way he looked at me, or was it just my imagination. Luckily, Kenny had usually gotten out of the car. As hard as I tried I couldn’t shake my thoughts, and honestly, I didn’t want to. Whenever Kenny said unkind things to me I kept picturing Randy at my side protecting me.

  We were invited to Randy’s wedding a couple weeks later. I was overjoyed to be able to see him again. After a few drinks and sharing a dance with him I knew I wanted to be with him more than ever. Thinking about Randy and imagining ways, we could be together filled my thoughts throughout the day. I’d bring up his name at the dinner table hoping to hear some tidbit about him from my husband. Finally, I began to notice Kenny looking at me suspiciously when I brought him up.

  “Why do you keep asking about Randy? I bet you want to sleep with him?” He screamed at me one day.

  I realized I had gone too far in my lustful thoughts about my husband’s co-worker. I vowed to myself I needed to stop thinking about him.

  26

  Jeff

  “You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book.” Psalm 139:16

  About this time, I was feeling pretty good about myself. I looked nice and was back to my pre-pregnancy weight. I had a boy and a girl and I was done having kids. I think I had one menstrual cycle after Kristy was born. I had read that nursing, combined with spermicidal crème, was a good source of birth control, and I kept waiting for my second period to start. Finally, I started to worry and went to the local clinic and had a pregnancy test. “Congratulations you are pregnant.”

  I had just had a baby. She wasn’t even ten months old. I couldn’t have another one. Not yet. I loved staying home with my kids and being a housewife and we couldn’t afford another baby. Besides, I was thinking about having an affair with Randy and leaving Kenny. This couldn’t be happening.

  I also felt like Kenny was unreasonable about everything in our lives, every payday he tried to make me feel guilty about only working part-time. “We need the money. You need to get a full-time job. I’m sick of being the only one paying the bills.”

  He’d cash his check every two weeks and pull out the money, counting out the twenty-dollar bills and curse. “Where did all the money go? I’m sick of living paycheck to paycheck. We have nothing.” Flinging the money at me, he’d stomp off yelling. “If I weren’t married to you I’d be driving a brand-new Corvette by now.”

  With tears rolling down my cheeks, I’d gather up the money and pray that we’d have enough to cover our bills.

  He’d continually scream at me telling me what a horrible housekeeper I was but how could that be, I spent most of my time cooking, cleaning, washing clothes, tending to the kids, grocery shopping, paying bills, and mowing the yard. I didn’t have friends I hung out with and I hardly ever saw my family. The only thing I knew how to do was to be a wife and mother. I felt like I always trying to appease him, it seemed nothing was ever good enough for him.

  I constantly felt defeated and continued to fantasize about divorcing my husband especially since I had Randy to think about. But how could I leave Kenny now that I was pregnant again? I was really stuck!

  The day I found out I was pregnant I ran into a childhood neighbor of Kenny. Beverly and I had also become friends since her husband Jim had just started working with, my husband.

  “Don’t tell Kenny, but I just found out I’m pregnant again. I don’t want another baby. We were only going to have two and besides Kristy is less than a year old.”

  “When are you going to tell Kenny?” Bev asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’m not ready to say anything yet.”

  “Are you going to get an abortion?”

  Although that thought had crossed my mind, I knew I could never really consider it. After all, what if God had some great plan for this baby? At the time, I didn’t think abortion was wrong. I did not realize it meant you were killing a child. Something about it just didn’t seem quite right though. “No, of course not.”

  “Well I’m on my way to pick up Jim from work,” she said as she started to drive away.

  I called after her, “Please don’t mention this to Kenny if you see him today.”

  At home, I went through the motions, taking care of the kids, doing laundry, and making dinner. My Alanon friend was constantly telling me it was wrong to think about Randy, and now being pregnant, I knew there was no way I would go through planning a rendezvous with him.

  A couple hours later Kenny came stomping in the door. “What’s this about you being pregnant,” he screamed.

  “What?”

  “Beverly came to pick up Jim from work and she said congratulations.”

  “I told her not to tell you. I wanted to tell you myself.”

  “When were you going to tell me? Is it even mine?” He eyed me distrustfully.

  “Of course, it’s yours. I can’t believe you’d even ask me that. I just found out today,” I said, trying not to cry.

  The yelling started, me trying to defend myself, he accusing me. After showering, he shoved me out of the way and left for the night. This is how he handled a problem. Sobbing on my sheets, I once again cried out to God. Why is this happening to me?

  I was occasionally going to my 12-step program but was getting more and more disillusioned with it. After all, Kenny was still drinking and going out and was still blaming me for everything that went wrong in his life. I was trying not to feel suspicious every time he
went out but my heart told me he was probably going out on me. I just didn’t want to believe it. I wasn’t completely innocent in my thoughts either. Who was I to talk?

  Life resumed, and after a few months I began to feel the baby kick and forgot all about my fantasy life with Randy. Although I was still having a difficult time believing I was pregnant again so soon after Kristy was born.

  I was about five months pregnant when Kenny informed me he had to go on the road for his job, and he assured me we would talk every few days. He would be traveling to the East Coast for up to six weeks. We had never been separated more than a few days except fourteen months ago when I had stayed at the County Farm. My fearful thoughts began to kick in. What if something bad happens to him? What if he goes out with someone else? What if he wants to leave me?

  Finally, the day came and I said goodbye and carried on with my daily routines, taking care of the children and our home. Interestingly enough, life seemed more peaceful with Kenny gone.

  After a few days, I found myself enjoying the freedom of not having to make a three-course meal every night and keeping the house spotless. I liked not having to share the car. But after a couple weeks I eventually began to miss my husband.

  I was glad I had my meeting every week to go to. One day on the drive home Rosa said, “You know the program is based on the twelve steps of AA and Step 2 says: ‘Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.’ A lot of people in the program refer to their Higher Power as God. We’ve been going to the meetings for almost four years and I was wondering, is Jesus your higher power?”

  “No God is. I really don’t know much about Jesus even though I went to the Catholic church while I was growing up.”

  “You know Jesus is God’s son, don’t you? Rosa asked. “Have you ever thought about accepting him in your life?”