Breaking Free

by Jennifer Slattery

  Trent swallowed and cleared his throat. The room quieted.

  “I’m Trent and I’m . . .” He shifted, glanced up then back at the podium. “I’m an alcoholic. And a gambler.”

  “Hello Trent.” Everyone spoke in unison.

  “I come from a long line of drunks.” His voice trembled. He stared at an Exit sign on the far wall to avoid making eye contact. “Took my first drink in middle school. Vodka. Found it in the pantry. One of those big bottles you see at bars. I poured myself a big old glass, just like I’d seen my pop do.” He snorted. “Spent the night hugging the toilet bowl. Old man wasn’t too happy about that either. Not because of my puking, but because I wasted good liquor.”

  His temperature rose as the memory came rushing back. “For the next six years, Mom followed both of us around with rags and trash cans. Didn’t matter what went on inside so long as the neighbors didn’t know about it.” His eyes stung. “She took her life five years ago.”

  He paused, took in a few deep breathes. “I blamed my father for her suicide, swore I’d never speak to him again. And I haven’t.” Sweat pooled in his palms. He wiped them on his pants. “Guess I became just like him, huh?”

  He took a deep breath before continuing. “I met the girl of my dreams in college. Sweeter than cotton candy with beautiful blue eyes and the prettiest laugh. I ended up marrying her.” He gripped the podium as memories of their early days together resurfaced. “We were doing great for a while. I had a good job, we had two boys. They’re teenagers now.” He shook his head. “My oldest boy’s following in my footsteps. What a legacy, huh?”

  His gaze swept over the crowd. A few listeners shifted in their seats, some of them looked away, but most of them nodded, expressions soft, compassionate.

  “My wife finally had enough. She left me. My boys, too. I can’t say that I blame them. I saw my wife with another man the other day.” The muscles in his jaw twitched. “Sent me running straight for the bottle. Only this time, thanks to a friend, I didn’t drink.” He looked at Ethan.

  “Way to go, man!” someone from the back called out. This was followed by a whoop.

  He stepped back from the podium, not sure what to do next, feeling awkward, exposed, and yet, unburdened. It felt good to quit the hiding.

  Everyone clapped, and someone gave another whoop. Ethan came to his side, Bible in hand. He set his Bible on the podium and clamped a hand on Trent’s shoulder. “Thanks, Trent.”

  Applause continued as Trent returned to his seat. Everyone quieted when Ethan started to speak.

  “We’ve all been there, right? When we feel like there’s no hope and all we want to do is drown our pain in a bottle. That’s why we need each other, to carry each other’s burdens, to pull us up out of the gutter and bring us to higher ground.

  “Some of you know all too well how Trent feels. You’ve lost your family, your job, your house, and it seems like nothing’s ever going to change. Like the pain will last forever, but I’m here to tell you that that is a lie from the pit of hell.”

  He locked eyes with Trent. “It will get better. If you keep pushing forward, one day at a time, one hour at a time, one minute at a time. Because God is faithful.” He flipped the pages in his Bible. “Jesus said in Matthew 11:28–29, ‘Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.’” He looked up. “Are you tired of carrying this heavy burden alone? Then lay it down. Let’s pray.”

  Trent bowed his head. Oh, Lord Jesus, help me. Please help me, because I can’t do this alone anymore.

  The librarian glanced up as Alice approached. “May I help you?”

  “Can I use the Internet?”

  “Absolutely.” The woman handed Alice a pen and a clipboard. With a long, polished fingernail, she pointed to a computer station on the far wall. “You can use computer number five.” The librarian gave Alice a notecard. “This is your username and password. Printing fees are ten cents per page. You pick them up here.”

  “Thank you.” She crossed the room, settled into the rolling chair, clicked on the Internet browser icon, and waited for a search engine to pull up.

  She pulled out the slip of paper the lawyer gave her and typed in the first web address. The Office of Civil Legal Aid website pulled up. She read the qualifications given. Did being $178,000 in debt qualify as low income? Only way to find out was to ask. Luckily a phone number was included at the bottom of the screen. She pulled a slip of paper from a desk organizer in the center of the table and jotted it down. After tucking it in her purse, she typed in the second URL, then searched through the site.

  She skimmed various articles on divorce procedures, temporary support orders, and legal separation laws then clicked on the “online resources” icon. On the next page, a list of states pulled up. She clicked on Washington and navigated to the forms she wanted. Purchasing a Washington State Settlement and Separation Agreement was as easy as clicking the mouse.

  She added the form to her “cart” then fished through her purse for her wallet. Except all her credit cards were maxed out. She sighed and dropped her wallet back in her purse. She needed to call Beth and risk having to listen to her friend lecture her on the sanctity of marriage. There weren’t any other options.

  “Alice, I’m surprised to see you here.”

  Misty’s sugary voice arrested Alice’s thoughts. Reacting quickly, she minimized the screen. Unfortunately, one look at Misty’s raised eyebrows told her she hadn’t moved fast enough.

  “Is everything all right?”

  Alice forced a smile. “Everything’s great. Thanks.” She glanced around the room hoping for an excuse to leave. Not finding any, she looked at the clock and pushed away from the computer. “Oh, my. I didn’t realize how late it is. I need to go.”

  She dashed out before Misty could press her further. She didn’t slow until she reached her car. Her stomach knotted, making her ill.

  Might as well get this over with.

  She phoned Beth.

  “Alice, I’ve been meaning to call you. How are you?”

  “I need a favor.” She frowned, realizing she only called when she needed something.

  “Is it your van again?”

  “No.” Alice scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. “I need to buy something online but I don’t have a credit card.”

  Beth hesitated. “Sure. No problem. Come on over. You can use my computer.”

  Thirty minutes later Alice sat in Beth’s living room, fighting a headache.

  Beth crossed her arms. “I’m not helping you get a divorce.”

  “It’s not a divorce, Beth. It’s a separation.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “The difference is that Trent and I will still be married, but he won’t be able to drag my credit through the mud anymore. He owes a boatload of money! And as his wife, I am responsible for every penny. If we get separated, I’ll only be responsible for half. And I won’t have to pay a dime on any debt he racks up from that point on.”

  Beth stood and paced. She turned back to Alice. “I don’t know. I understand how you feel—”

  “Do you? How could you possibly understand how I feel?” Her voice quivered. “I need you to do this for me. Please.”

  Beth studied Alice, her eyes softening, and then threw her hands up. “All right. I don’t agree with what you’re doing, but I’ll do it.”

  Alice leapt forward and wrapped her arms around her. “Thank you. I owe you one.”

  Beth pulled away. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret this.” She sighed. “Come on.”

  Alice followed her down the hall, up the stairs, and to an office two doors down. She handed Beth the slip of paper Mr. Cojan gave her. Beth took it and plopped down in front of the computer and followed Alice’s directions to the downloadable forms.

  Beth swiveled her chair. “Do you even know where Trent’s living?�
�

  “He left an address on my voice mail.”

  Beth’s eyes widened. “He called you?”

  “Like a hundred times. Although not as much lately as he used to.”

  Beth wrinkled her brow, holding Alice’s gaze, then turned her attention back to the screen. Five minutes later, she grabbed the forms from the printer and handed them over. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

  “You’re a life saver.” Alice gave her a sideways hug. “I need one more favor.”

  Beth pulled back with a guarded expression.

  “I need someone to serve them.”

  “No way, Alice Goddard. Absolutely not.”

  Alice sighed. Now what? Melba, maybe?

  CHAPTER 45

  A few days later, Alice sat on the wicker chair tucked beneath a weeping willow and watched as a hummingbird flitted from one rosebush to the next. The morning sun sifted through the branches, warming her shoulders and neck. She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup and inhaled the pine-scented, late summer air. Gertrude would be out soon, and the two of them would get to work, Gertrude supervising while Alice performed the manual labor of turning her quaint patio garden into the lush paradise it once was.

  But for now, Alice relaxed, alone with the birds, her thoughts, and her Bible. She set her cup down and ran a hand along the smooth leather cover. A quickening pricked her soul, a longing.

  She closed her eyes and let the words spill, unhindered, from her heart to her Heavenly Father. She had so much to be thankful for—her job, this apartment with its fragrant patio garden, for Beth and Ed, and Gertrude. If only Danny and Tim were here to share it all with her.

  Footsteps crunched on the adjacent path. She turned, her breath catching. Danny!

  A large duffel bag dangled from his shoulder. Gertrude shuffled along beside him, her face brightened by a wrinkled smile.

  Alice sprang to her feet, her hand at her neck. He melted against her.

  She pulled away to look him in the eye, cupping his face in her hands. “Oh, Danny. It’s so good to see you.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll leave you two to yourselves.” Gertrude’s eyes sparkled. With a wave, she hobbled off.

  Danny clutched a lopsided duffel bag. Was he staying? She was too afraid to ask.

  “I got your card.” Danny observed the garden, glanced at the door leading to Alice’s rental, then back to Alice. He raised his bag. “Where should I put this?”

  She smiled. “Follow me.”

  She led Danny to her apartment, through the tiny living room, to a back bedroom filled with unopened boxes. “I know it’s not much, but we can make it work, right?”

  He grinned. “It’s fine. Better than sleeping on Alex’s floor.” He reached over and picked up a football that had fallen out of a container and tossed it in the air.

  “Want to go for a walk?”

  “Sure.” He dropped the ball back in the box.

  The sun seemed even brighter as they made their way out of the apartment and along the gravel path leading to the front of the house. Daffodils and daisies danced in the gentle morning breeze, their cheery faces angled toward the rising sun. Gertrude sat on the porch nursing a glass of lemonade. She waved as Alice and Danny passed, her eyes nearly disappearing in a full-faced smile.

  Alice glanced at her son from the corner of her eye, her heart overflowing with praise. Thank You, Jesus. Thank You.

  They walked in silence for a while, the soft breeze blowing through Alice’s hair and filling her nose with the scent of freshly cut grass and cedar mulch. Across the street, a couple sat on a porch swing. A brown haired little boy played with blocks at their feet. She remembered when her boys were that age, back when they clamored to be with her, even going so far as to toddle after her into the bathroom. But now . . .

  Danny had come back. Hopefully in time, Timmy would as well.

  Alice chuckled to herself as she watched the blocks tumble across the deck. She looped an arm through Danny’s. “How’ve you been? Did you play soccer this summer?”

  “No. Alex and I kick the ball around a bit, but that’s about all.”

  “What about your brother?”

  Danny frowned.

  “Is he still staying at the Luttrells’?”

  “For now, but he’s talking about moving in with a friend from work.”

  “He got a job?”

  “At Wendy’s. He hates it, though. Says all the grease is making him break out.”

  Alice laughed, humored but saddened at the same time. She was glad to know Timmy was doing well, but oh, how she missed him. She needed to stop by, keep reaching out, for as long as it took.

  A thousand questions surged to her tongue, but now wasn’t the time. Instead, she turned her attention back to the pale blue sky in front of her and gave Danny’s arm a squeeze.

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Childlike eyes met her own. “Me, too.”

  They continued in comfortable silence, the early autumn breeze fresh and crisp. A few cars passed by, along with an older man walking what appeared to be a labrador-poodle mix.

  Alice stopped at the corner of North Bagely and 77th. “What do you say we head back now, see if my friend Gertrude has any fresh baked cookies to share?”

  Danny grinned. “Sounds great.”

  On the way home, Danny talked about his classes, his favorite teachers, and those that drove him crazy. But from the sounds of it, he was doing well. Working hard and staying focused.

  “Will I have to change schools?”

  Alice gave him a sideways glance. “Living with me, you mean?”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t think so. Not with you already being enrolled.” As for next year, they’d deal with that when the time came.

  “I made varsity football.”

  “Yeah? That’s awesome!” She didn’t have to ask about Tim. That boy lived and breathed the sport, and it showed. Most likely he was their starting quarterback. A nice way to end his high school career.

  “We have our first game in two weeks.”

  “Nice. Where?”

  “Bellevue.” He scratched at his neck. “Want to come?”

  She slung an arm over his shoulder and pulled him close, his elbow poking into her side. “Of course I do.”

  He went on to tell her about some of his most memorable practices, including one where linebacker Fritz Odenton had been so busy trying to look good for some freshman girls on the track team, he’d walked smack into a bunch of hurdles.

  “He got all tangled up in them, just like in those cartoons.”

  Alice laughed, envisioning the deep red on the normally cocky teenager’s face. “I guess that teaches him to keep his eyes on path, huh?”

  “And off the girls.”

  Nearing Gertrude’s, she stopped, her gaze zeroing in on a green pickup parked in the shade three houses down. That was Austin’s vehicle. A shiver ran through her.

  What was he doing here? And how long had he been there? She hugged her torso, watching, feeling him watch her.

  “Mom?”

  She turned to find Danny looking first at her then at Austin, then at her again. A crevice had formed between his drawn brows. Forcing a smile, she gave his arm a squeeze, not sure what to do or say.

  Before she could decide, Austin stepped out of his vehicle and began walking toward them. The sun was to his back, causing an elongated shadow to extend in front of him. His stride long and quick, his boots made a clomping-scraping noise on the asphalt.

  Reaching Alice, he shoved his hands in his pockets, and though he’d maintained his smile, the skin around his eyes remained taut. “Hello.”

  “Hey.” She swallowed, feeling vulnerable. Exposed. Which was crazy. He’d probably stopped by to . . . to . . . what, exactly? Ask her out? He could do that at the diner. In fact, he’d done so twice since their previous . . . encounter, and she’d turned him down after each one. Based on the scowl he’d given her after the l
ast time, she thought for sure he’d taken the hint.

  “This must be your son.” He turned to Danny and extended a hand. “I’m Austin. A friend of your mother’s.”

  Alice didn’t like the way he stressed the word friend. “Can I help you with something?”

  His eyes narrowed before smoothing back into his stiff-smile expression. “I stopped by to see if I could take you out to lunch.”

  “I already ate.”

  “Dinner then. Both of you.”

  To Danny she said, “Give us a minute?”

  His face hardened as he eyed Austin, appearing reluctant to leave.

  “It’s all right.” She shooed him off. “I won’t be long.”

  With another hard stare at Austin, Danny stepped away, lingering near the curb on the other side of the street.

  Alice crossed her arms, feigning courage. How could she say this in a way that would leave absolutely no ambiguity? “I’m not interested, Austin. I need you to leave me alone.”

  His eyes flashed, and she held her breath, glad Danny remained close. Her thoughts zinged back to their conversation about Austin’s wife, followed by remembered clips from reality crime shows. Was she being paranoid? No. The chill that ran up her spine and set the hairs on the back of her neck on edge said otherwise.

  Sliding her hand behind her back, she reached for her phone in her back pocket, held it. Her heart drummed against her rib cage.

  She stepped back, pulling her phone out so he could see it. “You need to leave, now.”

  “Want me to call the cops?” Danny called from across the street.

  She swallowed, watched as Austin looked from her to Danny then back to her again. Then, with a smirk, he raised his hands, palms out, and backed away.

  “Talk about overreacting.” He shook his head and ambled back to his truck.

  Breathing shallow, Alice held her ground, phone still in hand, until he got back into his vehicle, started the engine, and drove away.

  Danny came to her side immediately. “You know that guy?”

  She faced him with a forced smile. “He’s just someone from work. One of the diners.”

  “I’ve seen him before. Hanging around.”