Breaking Free

by Jennifer Slattery

  His gaze fell to the suitcase before returning to Beth. Her features tightened, the creases in her forehead deepening, as she shooed him away again.

  Alice studied the carpet, wishing she could crawl beneath it. She sat next to Beth, silence stretching between them as Ed sauntered across the living room and disappeared into the kitchen.

  “What happened?” Beth asked.

  What could she say? Worse, what would Beth say? “Remember your vows.” “Divorce is a sin.” “Marriage isn’t about your happiness. It’s about your holiness.”

  So she’d lose the Christian-of-the-year award.

  “Where are the boys?”

  A dull ache lodged in Alice’s throat.

  Beth wrapped her arm around Alice’s shoulders and pulled her closer. Silent tears shivered through her and streamed down her face.

  Beth rubbed her back. “It’s going to be OK. Everything’s going to be OK.” She bowed her head. “Holy, ever-compassionate Father, hold Alice close to Your heart. Heal her wounds and help her to hear Your voice. Watch over Trent. Do whatever is necessary to break his addiction and bring him to You in full surrender. Restore this marriage by Your power and grace.”

  Trembling beneath her friend’s embrace, she bit back an angry retort. She didn’t want a resurrected marriage. She wanted out.

  “Did you talk to him?”

  Alice shook her head. “I’m done talking, Beth. I’m done fighting, done listening to his lies and excuses.”

  Beth just looked at her with a sad expression.

  An awkward silence followed.

  Ed reappeared. “I’ll be in the garage. If you need me.”

  Alice wiped her face and straightened. She glanced at the clock on the DVR. The boys should be done with practice by now. “I need to make a phone call.”

  “Sure. No problem.” Beth stood. “I’ll give you some privacy.”

  When she left, Alice tried Tim’s cell. She got his voice mail. “Call me. Please. We need to talk about this.”

  She tried Danny next. Again, no answer. After repeating the same message, she dropped her phone and fell back against the couch, face in her hands.

  The soft swish of footsteps on the carpet signaled Beth’s return. “You get everything taken care of?”

  “I’ll try again later.” She stood. “I’m really tired.”

  “Oh, of course. Let’s get you settled.”

  Beth grabbed Alice’s suitcase, led her up the stairs, and rounded the corner to a small guest room with floral wallpaper and pale pink curtains. She set Alice’s belongings beside a small white dresser.

  Beth gave her a sideways hug. “Everything’s going to work out. You’ll see.”

  Then she left, closing the door behind her.

  A lifetime of insecurities surged to the surface as Alice sat on the edge of the bed. A grown woman with two teenage boys crashing at her friend’s like a stupid college kid. Pulling a pillow to her chest, she rolled into a fetal position and stared at the wall.

  Trent climbed into his car, fell against the backseat, and released a long, slow sigh. He’d been lucky. Very lucky. And thanks to Mr. Lowe’s “we’re all a team here” speech, the rumors and whispers at Innovative Media Solutions had stopped. In fact, the ready smiles and firm handshakes everyone sent his way indicated they bought every word of his story. Of course, it helped that Cherice had only been there a year and kept to herself most of the time.

  Now that he had his job back, he could start digging himself out of the hole he’d created. A little repair work on the home front wouldn’t hurt, either. He’d start on that tonight. Some wining and dining at El Bistro would melt Alice’s icy heart in a flash. And this time he’d be more consistent about it, consistent enough to rekindle the flame.

  Driving home employed and with a plan, he felt like a new man. His gambling days were over. No more drinking, either, except maybe an occasional beer or two on the weekends. Not that it’d be easy. His debt ran so deep—to Jay, the credit companies, their mortgage lender, pick a name—just thinking about it set his mouth watering for the juice.

  But he could do it. Had to. One bill at a time. So long as he had Alice and the boys, he’d make it. Having come so close to losing it all, he never wanted to fall that far again. Mr. Lowe wouldn’t be so forgiving next time.

  When he got home, emptiness swallowed the house and uneasiness settled in his gut. He glanced at the clock. Almost seven. Maybe the boys and Alice were at a soccer game. A game he should have known about. But this would be the last one he’d miss.

  He tossed his keys onto the coffee table and strode into the kitchen. Out of habit, he opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. Almost immediately, he put it back and slammed the door. The tendons in his neck tightened as he fought against the familiar urge, his saliva glands activated. No. He ground his molars together. No more booze.

  Needing a diversion, he returned to the living room to catch up on the baseball scores. The peace and quiet felt good. No nagging, no loud music blaring from behind closed doors.

  But when 10:30 rolled around and no one showed, he began to worry. It wasn’t like Alice to stay out so late without calling. He stood, crossed the living room, and glanced at the calendar tacked to the fridge. There weren’t any games, no meetings—nothing to account for her absence.

  He picked up the phone and dialed her cell. Her voice mail picked up. Pressing call end, he stood in the center of the kitchen, countless thoughts churning through his mind. The look of hatred searing her eyes the last time they talked pressed to the forefront.

  She probably went out with the girls to throw herself a pity party. He’d hear all about it come morning.

  He couldn’t win with her. Why try? He stomped back to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. Who was he trying to stay sober for, anyway?

  Alice pulled off the side of the road and cut her lights. She scanned the street. Tim’s car wasn’t there, and his bedroom remained dark. Multicolored light from the television set flickered from the living room. Where had her boys gone? What if her actions drove Tim further away? She phoned him again. Voice mail. She tried Danny.

  “Hello?” He sounded tired.

  “Honey, where are you?”

  “A friend’s.”

  “Listen, we need to talk.”

  She could hear Tim in the background.

  “I gotta go,” Danny said.

  “Wait. When will you be . . . home?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s meet for a soda and fries. Red Robin tomorrow?”

  “I’ve got to go.” The line went dead.

  Alice called back. No answer.

  I can’t lose my boys. She dropped her face in her hands and cried.

  Trent woke to an infomercial and a stiff neck. Turning off the television, he stood and made a visual sweep of the room illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlights. He listened for the slightest sound, but the house remained silent. Totally silent. The queasiness he drank away earlier sank into his gut like a heavy slab of concrete as he made his way down the hall. The door to his bedroom squeaked open. He turned on the light. The bed was made, unslept in. The closet doors stood open, revealing a row of empty hangers.

  He froze, unable to process the image. The conversation he’d had with Alice on the night Jay’s thugs had beaten him up resurfaced:

  “I’m telling you right now, you need to stop this. Now.”

  Trent stared at her, his eyes hard. “Or what?”

  “Or I’m gone. And I’ll take the kids with me.”

  He ran out of the room and across the hall. He threw open Tim’s door and exhaled, his slackened body nearly crumpling against the doorframe. Clothes lay in mounds on the floor, crammed in the closet, and strewn across the bed. A few items, like Tim’s iPod and cell phone, were gone, but other than that, his room looked like it always did—a mess.

  What about Danny? Alice would never leave without their youngest. Stepping back into the hall, he closed
the door behind him and moved to his other son’s room. Holding his breath, he opened the door and searched the area for any sign of change. As in Tim’s room, a few things appeared to be gone, but nothing major. Not that Trent could tell. Danny’s “treasure chest,” a shoebox full of old baseball game stubs and other things he had saved since he was a kid sat in its usual spot on the dresser. A few folded dollar bills and a pile of change lay beside it.

  Wherever Alice had gone, the boys hadn’t gone with her, which meant that she’d be back. Wouldn’t she?

  CHAPTER 26

  Alice parked beside a rusted bus and crossed the parking lot.

  Coach Davis met her at the edge of the field. “Mrs. Goddard, can I help you with something?”

  “I need to talk to Tim and Danny.”

  “They’re in the middle of a scrimmage. Can this wait?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  He sighed and trudged off toward the field, blowing his whistle. The players looked his way. “Goddard boys, your mom’s here.”

  Laugher erupted and someone made a “your momma” joke, slamming other players with high-fives. Tim and Danny met their coach on the sidelines, talking with quick hand gestures. The coach shrugged and jerked his head toward Alice. The boys trudged toward her, frowning.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have come, should’ve waited.

  Upon reaching her, Tim crossed his arms, scowling. Danny slouched beside him.

  She spoke slowly. “Why won’t you answer your phone?”

  Tim spit on the ground then swiped his mouth. “What’s there to talk about? You left and we found a new place to hang. It’s all good.”

  “It’s not good. You need to come with me.”

  “Yeah, why’s that?”

  “Because I’m your mother.”

  Tim laughed. “Good one.” He flicked Danny’s arm. “Come on.”

  Danny looked from Alice to his brother.

  She touched his elbow. “Danny, please, we need to talk about this.”

  He backed away, shaking his head. “This is messed up. Leave us alone. Can’t you do that?” He turned around and jogged back to the field.

  Alice returned to Beth’s after her failed attempt to talk to Tim and Danny at their early morning practice and stared out the window from Beth’s kitchen table. Two chubby-cheeked toddlers raced Big Wheels down the adjacent sidewalk as their mother ran behind them.

  Beth entered and sat across from her. “Ed said you went out last night.”

  Alice traced her finger along a crack in the table.

  “Did you get any sleep?”

  “Your guest room was very comfortable, thank you. And thank you for letting me stay over.”

  Ed had already left for work. Hopefully, Beth had errands to run today. Alice needed a few minutes to herself, to process everything and come up with a plan. One she should have formulated before packing her suitcase.

  She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup and watched the cream disappear into a sea of brown. How long would Beth and Ed let her stay? How long did she want to? As if she had a choice. Until she found a job, her options were few. And what about the boys? They couldn’t stay here in Beth’s one guest room. Although at this point, her hopes of them joining her had nearly evaporated.

  Obviously, they were avoiding her. She had called their cell phones more times than she could count and left messages each time. Not one returned call. Nothing. Not that she blamed them, really. Their world had been turned upside down.

  What kind of mother was she, walking out on them like that? Except she hadn’t walked out on them. She left Trent, and it was for their own good.

  Right?

  Beth moved to the fridge and pulled out an orange juice container. “You talk to the boys yet?” She poured herself a glass.

  “I tried. They won’t listen.”

  “Do you think they’re at the house?”

  “Danny said they’re at a friend’s, but I don’t know for how long.”

  “If you need someone to talk to . . .” She placed her hand on Alice’s shoulder.

  Beth migrated to the living room, set her glass on the end table, and curled into the corner of the couch. She grabbed a notebook and her Bible, chewing on the end of a pen as her eyes scanned the opened page.

  Alice hadn’t even thought to bring her Bible with her. But that was only because she’d left in a hurry. Not that she’d been reading it much lately.

  Her heart sank as she relived the afternoon she’d left. The hatred in her son’s eyes . . . Oh, sweet Timmy. She never meant to hurt him. Either of them.

  Maybe if she’d waited one more day, the boys would have come with her. They didn’t understand. If only she could talk to them.

  She rose and lumbered toward the guest room. Closing the door behind her, she grabbed her phone and sifted through her contacts. She needed to find out where Tim and Danny were. Though she wasn’t thrilled about sharing her drama with the entire PTA, she didn’t have much of a choice. Highlighting the first name on the list, she pressed call.

  Rhonda answered. “Alice, good morning. What can I do for you?”

  She swallowed. “I . . .” This was even harder than she had imagined. “Is Tim or Danny staying with you?”

  “Uh . . . no. Were they supposed to be?”

  “No, I just . . .” Have no idea where they’re at, being the wonderful mother that I am.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine.” She fiddled with the handle of the dresser. “They forgot to call, that’s all.”

  “Don’t you hate that? Max did that to me once, just once, mind you. Thought his father was going to have a conniption.” She laughed. “He’d been studying at a friend’s, or so he said, and lost track of time. ’Course he never stayed out all night, but that’s why you have to come down hard the first time. Otherwise they keep on sliding. Woosh, like a slippery old banana down the garbage shoot.”

  Alice shifted. She didn’t have time for this.

  “That’s how we handled it, and let me tell you, that solved that problem right away. A week of hard labor and no cell phone woke Max up real quick.”

  “Thanks. I’ll remember that.” She tried to cut the conversation short, but Rhonda continued.

  “Not that we haven’t had other issues. Boy, have we had issues, part of raising teens, I’m sure. But poor Max, you can’t blame him really. He gets so caught up in the moment, just like his father. I think it’s his creative side showing . . .”

  Alice stifled a sigh as Rhonda went on, tracing back at least five years. After another ten minutes of listening to her share every last detail of her life—from how Max threw his dirty socks on the floor to how Stephanie liked to keep her room tidy—Alice finally interjected. “I hate to cut you off, but I really need to get a hold of them.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry. Hey, did you try their cells?”

  “I think they forgot to charge them.”

  “Oh, I hate that!” Rhonda launched into another five-minute dissertation on how Max always left his phone buried in his sports bag beneath a bunch of dirty socks at the bottom of his locker or on his bedroom dresser.

  By the time Alice hung up, she’d developed quite the tension headache. Massaging her neck, she went through the rest of her contacts one by one until she got to Lisa Luttrell.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Luttrell, this is Tim and Danny’s mom.”

  A lengthy pause.

  “Alice. I’m glad you called.” The woman spoke through her nose.

  “Have you seen Tim or Danny?”

  “Yes, they’re here, and we’ve told them they are welcome whenever they need . . . space. I planned to contact you later today.”

  Alice closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Of all the families Tim and Danny could have crashed with, they had to pick the Luttrells?

  “Can you come over this evening to talk about this? Patrick will be home at six.”

  Great, an interventio
n. Just what she needed.

  “Actually, I . . .”

  Going would be stepping into an ambush. As a licensed psychologist, Lisa loved diving into other people’s heads. Her husband, a psych professor at the University of Washington, wasn’t any better.

  Alice opted for avoidance. And now that she knew where her boys were, even if she didn’t like it, she could quit worrying and move on to fixing. Somehow. Without Lisa’s help. “Can I call you back?”

  “These sorts of things must be dealt with immediately. Before they become insurmountable. How does 6:30 sound? You remember how to get here, right?”

  Alice sighed. The last thing she wanted was to be psychoanalyzed, but right now, that was the only way to get to her boys. “Fine. 6:30 is fine.”

  Ending the call, she wondered what “sorts of things” Lisa referred to. She had no way of knowing what rumors had been spread or how many people had seen Trent staggering out of a bar or at a dog fight or God only knew where else. But that wasn’t her problem. Not anymore. Right now she had one concern—getting her boys back.

  She turned to the oval mirror hanging above the dresser, applied tinted gloss to her lips and a few strokes of blush to her cheeks, then exited the room. In the living room, Beth still sat on the couch reading her Bible when Alice walked by.

  She glanced up. “Are you heading out?”

  Alice nodded, grateful Beth didn’t push for more information and yet desperate for advice just the same.

  “I’m going to be in and out today, but I’ll leave a key for you under the front mat.”

  “Thanks.”

  She didn’t have anywhere to go, but she couldn’t hang out at Beth’s all day.

  CHAPTER 27

  Alice parked outside the Luttrells’ four-car garage and tried Tim’s number once more. When it went to voice mail, she tried Danny. No luck.

  Taking in a long, slow breath, she smoothed her hair behind her ears and stepped out onto the slated driveway. Stone pillars stood on either side of a circular walk, leading to a two-story brick house with high, arching windows.