Breaking Free

by Jennifer Slattery

  Unfortunately, his next set of cards weren’t much better. A pair of tens and a Queen high. Not bad, but worth risking $1,000? He had to at least get his $500 back. Besides, a man could only get so many rotten eggs.

  “I’ll see your five and raise you ten.” He tossed two chips down. The stakes had risen to $2,000.

  Jay leaned forward and sifted his chips through his fingers. “I call.”

  Trent’s hand shook as he showed his cards. The man to his right cursed and threw down a pair of deuces with an Ace high.

  The corners of Jay’s mouth curled into a sinister smile as he placed two pair, Jacks, and sixes on the table. Eyes on Trent, he leaned forward and scooped up the pile of chips.

  Trent’s throat constricted. The ticking of the clock grated against his ears. 7:40. 7:41. He had time for one more hand. Just one more.

  CHAPTER 6

  Alice’s mind wandered as she fiddled with the lace doily under her iced tea while Amanda, the youngest member of the Bible study group, complained about how frustrating it was to have a two-year-old running around the house.

  After her romantic dinner with Trent, she’d hoped things would get better. And they had, for a few days, but then his anger had returned. Almost worse than before. Any talk of a romantic getaway had been quickly forgotten. She’d tried to talk to him, once again asked to go to counseling. But he wouldn’t listen, kept attributing everything to stress, saying things would get better, that he’d try harder.

  It’s not supposed to end up like this. Not for us.

  “Alice, you’re awful quiet today.” Beth rested her forearms on the table. “What do you think of the passage? What do you do to build your home?”

  Alice shifted. “Wow, great question, Beth. I try to stay involved in the boys’ lives. Make sure they know I am always there for them.”

  She relaxed when Renee interjected. “I like to plan fun family stuff, like going to Seattle Center or for a bike ride. Oh, and the kids and I craft together. As for my marriage . . .” She frowned and tapped her chin. “I haven’t figured that one out yet. Josh likes to watch sports, or go to sporting events. Or talk about sporting events.”

  Everyone laughed, then launched into a discussion on ways to make your husband and kids a priority without spending one’s life in the kitchen. Or folding laundry, although, according to Beth, leaving one’s house a complete mess wasn’t ideal.

  Alice folded her napkin into tiny squares. When had she last cooked Trent’s favorite meal or baked him a pie? Or given a compliment, for that matter. So much had changed over the past 19 years. Her mushy love notes, tucked inside his home-packed lunches, had given way to hurried emails. Romantic dinners had disappeared completely. Was it too late to save their marriage? Did she even want to?

  “What about you, Alice?” Once again, Beth snatched her gaze and held it. “What are some ways to juggle motherhood and marriage? How can we keep up the romance when there’s always a little one underfoot?”

  Alice ran the nail of her index finger along the outer edge of her napkin. How to keep the flame going? Oh, there were plenty of flames at her house, but not any they’d want to hear about. “I . . . I’m not sure if I should answer that, Beth.” Speaking in a sugared tone, she tilted her head and batted her lashes.

  Everyone giggled and Alice turned to Amanda in an effort to divert the attention off herself to someone more interesting, or perhaps more emotionally stable. “I would love a copy of your brownie- pie recipe. It was very good.” To add credence to her statement, she sliced her fork through the nearly untouched desert on her plate and brought it to her mouth. It stuck to her tongue like a thick, gooey blob of mud.

  Before long everyone—well, almost everyone—started talking about food again, followed by a discussion on the latest diet fads.

  The moment the closing prayer ended, Alice jumped up, gathered her things, and dashed for the door.

  Unfortunately, Beth stepped in front of her and blocked her way. “You want to help me clean up?”

  Alice watched the other ladies scurry out of the room. A few of them stopped to toss their paper plates in an overflowing trash can tucked against the wall, but most of them were too engrossed in conversation to notice the mess.

  “Yeah, sure.” She checked her watch, not because she had to be anywhere but because she wanted Beth to think she did.

  “Did you try Suzie’s coffee cake? That cinnamon streusel topping was amazing.”

  “It was very good, and probably requires a few more hours of BOSU class.” Alice picked up a wrinkled napkin.

  “Hey, thanks for coming.” Beth paused to say good-bye to the last of the ladies. When the door shut behind them, she cornered Alice with an I-know-something-is-up look. “You going to tell me what’s going on or do I need to figure it out?”

  Alice grabbed a paper plate as her mind raced for an answer. How much should she tell her? Or, better yet, how little could she get away with telling her? Knowing Beth, not much.

  She forced a smile that made her cheeks ache. “Nothing. I promise. I would tell you.”

  “Come on, Alice. Be real with me. I know you better than that.”

  Before she could protest, Beth pulled a chair out from the table and guided Alice into the seat. Neither one said anything for quite some time.

  “Are you and Trent having problems?”

  Alice blinked, heat climbing her neck.

  Beth leaned forward and covered Alice’s hand with her own. “His church attendance has been . . . sporadic, and I know he’s not going to the men’s group anymore.”

  “He’s been busy.”

  “Ed said he saw him leaving a bar on Denny Way last week.”

  Alice inhaled sharply, remembering the white band of flesh where Trent’s wedding ring should have been. What else had Ed seen?

  “Have you thought about going to counseling?”

  “We’re fine.”

  “Alice, don’t shut me out. And don’t isolate yourself. Get help, before it’s too late.”

  Trent rolled onto his side, back to the door, and pulled the pillow over his head.

  “Get up.” Alice shoved his shoulder. “We’re going to be late.”

  The morning sun poured through the slits in the blinds like laser beams. He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed them with his fists.

  Alice paced the room, banging dresser drawers and rattling closet hangers. Nothing like the Alice Goddard alarm clock to jump start your day.

  With a groan, Trent propped on his elbows and stared at his wife. “Ten more minutes.” His head throbbed, and his mouth felt like cotton. Her high-pitched griping wasn’t helping.

  “Luke’s getting baptized today, remember? Considering we’re his godparents, we can’t be late.” She placed a button-down shirt and a pair of slacks on the bed.

  The clock flashed 8:15, leaving plenty of time to jump in the shower, gargle a few gallons of mouthwash, and make it to the church in time for the opening song.

  “Relax.” He swung his feet over the side of the bed, causing his still pickled head to spin. He paused and massaged his temples.

  She glared at him a moment longer then stormed out and slammed the door.

  He let his head fall into his hands as reality sank in. In one night he had gone from having $2,000 in his hand to falling an additional $5,000 into debt. All because he couldn’t walk away.

  He lumbered into the bathroom and gripped the sink with both hands. The mirror reflected hollow, bloodshot eyes shadowed by dark circles. A two-day beard covered his chin. Body odor flooded his nostrils as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. He tossed it onto the floor then turned on the shower. Steam rose to the ceiling and crawled over the glass door.

  He stepped inside and let the hot water pelt his scalp and run down his face. A razor lying next to the bar of soap caught his eye, drawing him. In one instant, with the slightest swipe, it would all be over.

  Alice stood in the church entryway as men, women, and children milled i
nto the sanctuary in their Sunday finest. The back row, her favorite hiding spot, was already filled.

  She shot her boys a smile, resisting the urge to smooth down a stray lock of Danny’s hair. “Want to see if you can find Luke? Let him know you’re here?”

  “Sure.” Danny glanced at his brother who, at six foot two, looked more like his father every day.

  Tim shrugged. “He’s probably upstairs.”

  The two disappeared up a narrow stairwell that led to the balcony and baptismal. Alice turned to speak to Trent, but he was gone. She frowned, thinking about his used-car-salesman flamboyance. It wouldn’t take him long to make a fool of himself. Hopefully he’d remembered to brush his teeth. Just one whiff of his nasty beer-breath would send the entire congregation into intercessory prayer.

  She scanned the many smiling faces milling about. She found Trent inside the sanctuary talking to Pastor Fred. She tensed as a million questions raced through her mind. She knew Ed had seen Trent coming out of a bar. Who else had seen him? And how many people had they told? Did the pastor know? With prayer chains and community groups, it didn’t take long to get the North Harmony Church rumor mill churning.

  She wove her way through the crowd until she made it to Trent. Her tightly coiled nerves relaxed when the words of a familiar story reached her ears.

  “So there I stood, soda dripping down the front of my shirt and all over my tan slacks, when Mr. Su-Han walks in.”

  Pastor Fred laughed. “You’re kidding me? What’d you do?”

  “Prayed for a miracle, Pastor. Prayed for a miracle.” Trent shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked on his heels.

  Alice stepped beside him.

  “Hello, Alice.” Pastor Fred extended a hand. “Good to see you this morning. How are the plans for the ladies luncheon coming along?”

  “We’re making progress.”

  The pastor nodded. “I need to connect you with one of our younger members, a newlywed. She’s looking for a mentor, and I immediately thought of you.”

  Lovely. “Send me an email.” She grabbed Trent by the arm and dug her fingers into his bicep. “We better find our seats, before they’re all taken.”

  Pastor Fred chuckled. “Yeah, good luck with that.” He lifted his gaze to survey the rapidly growing crowd. “We’ve got ten baptisms today. Ten. Can you believe that? God is good.”

  Trent patted the pastor’s shoulder. “All the time.”

  She forced a cough—“Excuse me”—and turned to Trent, “Shall we?”

  He shrugged and joined her walking down the aisle to the pew where Beth, Ed, and practically half of Alice’s BOSU class crammed between two shiny wooden armrests.

  Beaming, Beth sprang to her feet. “Hey there, you two. I tried to save you guys a spot.”

  Alice waved a hand. “It’s no big deal.”

  Ed stood. “Good morning.” Holding out a hand to Trent, his smile faltered.

  Trent grinned and pumped Ed’s arm. “My man. How you been?”

  “I’ve been good. How about you? Is everything OK?” Ed studied his friend with a wrinkled brow.

  Trent spread his feet shoulder width apart and folded one arm across his chest. “Couldn’t be better. Couldn’t be better.”

  Alice and Beth exchanged glances, and Beth’s face softened. Alice averted her gaze.

  “Looks like you guys are busting out of the seams.” She surveyed the pews for a place to sit. “Trent, why don’t we try to find some empty seats?”

  Danny and Tim walked up as Alice and Trent headed toward the front of the sanctuary. They all settled next to a family of four. Tim immediately pulled out his phone and started texting until soft organ music filled the room, and everyone stood. Scott, the worship leader, broke out in song. Alice mouthed the words, but her thoughts turned to Trent, his drinking, and how it affected the boys. And there was nothing she could do about it, short of divorcing him, but that wasn’t an option.

  Trent followed the stream of people out of the sanctuary and into the lobby. He paused to shake a few hands before making his way to a far corner where Ed talked with the Sally-do-gooders.

  “Thanks for coming, guys.” Beth’s eyes sparkled. “I know this means a lot to Luke.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Trent noted the odd look on Ed’s face. What was his problem? He acted like Trent had a zit in the center of his forehead. Both he and his wife were getting on Trent’s last nerve, the way they kept looking at him then exchanging glances.

  Then there was Alice. Every time Ed or Beth looked her way, her face flushed red, and she lowered her eyes. It was enough to set Trent on edge. And Alice wondered why he didn’t want to come to church anymore. These so-called friends were anything but friendly.

  He glanced at Luke who stood at least a foot taller than his father. The teen had draped a towel over his shoulder, his wet clothes exchanged for dry ones. His father elbowed him, prodding a, “Yeah, thanks for coming,” out of him.

  “So what do you say we do lunch?”

  Trent shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know.” His fingers closed around his empty wallet. When he glanced at Alice, her eyes narrowed.

  She spoke for him. “We’ve got a lot going on today. Sorry.”

  “Another time then.” Beth waved a hand. “I’m just glad you all came. Besides, I think Luke’s had about all the family togetherness he can handle for a while,” She said. “You’re going to Misty’s on Friday, right? She’s having a dinner party. Should be fun.”

  Trent shrugged. Not his first choice for Friday night entertainment but at least it’d get him off the hook for lunch. Nothing like begging your best friend—or maybe, former best friend—to foot your bill to make you feel like a man.

  Alice eyed him then shot Beth a stiff smile. “We’ll be there.”

  Trent sighed and everyone looked at him. Alice’s face tightened, the lines around her mouth deepening. He covered with a yawn. “Excuse me. Guess it’s getting to be my nap time.” He shot Ed a wink. “Friday sounds great.” So much for his Friday night poker game, a game he really needed right about now.

  CHAPTER 7

  Alice wrapped her hands around her coffee mug and inhaled the rich hazelnut aroma. The warm liquid soothed the tension from her shoulders. After taking another sip, she set it down and grabbed the sign-up sheet for the ladies luncheon. Over 80 ladies had RSVP’d, but less than half had paid their deposits. That meant most of them wouldn’t show.

  The doorbell chimed. Standing, she inspected the tidy living room, smoothed her blouse, and strolled to the front door. Priscilla, her neighbor, stood on the stoop. A girl with long, blond hair, gray eyes, and a slight overbite stood beside her.

  Alice kept her hand on the doorknob. “Good morning. Would you like . . . Can I . . . How can I help you this morning?”

  “Have you met my niece, Sarah-Jane?” Priscilla wiggled her way inside, dragging the young girl behind her.

  Alice followed them into the living room. “I don’t believe I have.”

  Priscilla dropped her purse—a whale of a tote large enough to swallow the woman whole—on the coffee table and sank into the couch. Her niece sat beside her, knees pinched together, back straight.

  “You still helping to organize the women’s dealy-wheely?”

  Alice nodded and grabbed a flyer from the shelf beneath the coffee table. “Would you like to come, Sarah-Jane?”

  “Oh, she’d like to come all right.” Priscilla patted the girl’s leg. “She’d like to help with the premeal entertainment.”

  “Entertainment?”

  “Mm hmm. This girl has the voice of a canary.” She nudged her niece. “Let her hear you, sweetie.”

  Sarah-Jane studied her hands.

  Her aunt nudged her again. “Come on, darling. You can’t pursue your singing career hiding away in that room of yours.”

  Career? The girl looked all of 13.

  Priscilla crossed her arms. “Now Sarah-Jane, I didn’t bring you o
ver here so Mrs. Goddard could watch you swallow your tongue. Sing already, sweetie. We don’t have all day.”

  The teen cleared her throat and scooted to the edge of her seat. Then she sucked in air and belted out a series of notes that resembled yodeling.

  I come yonder, yonder, yonder,

  To follow my heart’s desire

  Yonder, yonder, yonder, though the trail keeps climbing higher

  Though my feet stumble and my strength is wearing thin

  I come yonder, yonder, yonder, for my lover’s heart to win.

  When she launched into the second verse, using vibrato, Alice chewed her bottom lip to keep from laughing. The girl ended with a long, high-pitched squeal, then slumped her shoulders and stared at her hands once again.

  Priscilla gave her a sideways hug. “Now I know she’s got some room to grow, but everyone’s got to start somewhere, right? And like I told her, you want to be a singer, got to start finding opportunities to sing. Learned that in one of those mind-over-matter books my son gave me. ’Course, she’ll be taking voice lessons soon. By the time of your little function, she’ll be a regular pro.”

  Alice cleared her throat and stood. “Thank you for the . . . sample.” Now what? Please leave?

  “Well, you have my number.” Priscilla touched Sarah-Jane’s elbow, then guided her out, pausing to flutter her fingers at Alice. “Toodle-oo!”

  Alice closed the door behind them, leaning against the cool wood. Laughter overtook her as she thought of Jude’s expression, should she ask Sarah-Jane to sing at their event. Classic!

  “Morning.”

  Trent glanced up as Mr. Lowe approached his desk. A toothy grin spread across his face as he waved a check in the air. Trent’s eyes widened at the number printed in the box on the right. Twelve hundred and fifty dollars?

  He straightened. “What’s that for?”

  “A well-deserved bonus. From the Medford-Howard account.”