Chapter 2
Emily slipped a Christmas cassette into the tape player and began putting away the groceries, while Bing Crosby crooned 'White Christmas'. She smiled as she put the meat she had purchased in the freezer and watched Danny's clumsy attempt at dancing.
"These can wait", she said, "C'mon Danny. Dance with me."
She fast-forwarded to 'Rocking' Around The Christmas Tree', and she and Danny bobbed around the living room, ending the song with Danny being scooped up in a big hug. When she put him down, he immediately began his bobbing dance again.
"Mommy, Dan, Dan." he cried.
"Just for a minute more", she answered, "Mommy has groceries to put away."
Once again she began to dance with her little son, relishing this moment of complete joy. When the next song ended, Emily said, "Now, I've got to get this done. Come, Danny, I'll get you a cookie."
Once the little boy was cared for, she put the fresh vegetables and dairy products in the fridge, then put a few of the canned and packaged goods in the cupboard. Then she began to systematically stash food behind pans and canisters in the back of the cupboards. More was put behind the piles of linens in the linen closet and still more were hidden in the basement. When she had finished hiding the majority of the food, she took a few bags of candy that she had left on the counter top, checked again to make sure that Danny was occupied and ran upstairs to hide the candy in her sweater drawer.
As she shut the drawer, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. “Even with the swelling and the bruise around my eye,” Emily thought, “I look like a pretty normal woman. Who would ever guess the kind of life I lead?” The face that stared back at her from the mirror was that of a woman 34 years of age, five foot, five inches tall and only about 10 pounds overweight, with light brown hair in which the few gray hairs she had were not easily visible. It was a pretty face, not one that people would describe as being strikingly beautiful but certainly pretty by anybody’s definition. It was slightly rounded with friendly, blue eyes, a long nose and full lips that easily flashed a wide ready smile.
"What on earth did I ever do to him to cause this? Why does he hate me so much?” Emily shook her head sadly and hurried downstairs to fold up and stow away the grocery bags.
"Well young fella, naptime." she said as she scooped Danny up and took him upstairs to his crib. She changed his diaper, then tucked him into bed and sang to him for a few minutes until his eyes began to get heavy. She stroked his face and ran her fingers through his soft curls, then bent down and kissed his forehead. "You have a good sleep, baby. I've got some surprises to work on."
With Danny sleeping peacefully, she pulled some knitting from the closet and settled down in front of the T.V. to knit. She had already completed the soft brown teddy bear that she had knit for Danny and now she was putting the finishing touches on the black dog that she was knitting for Kyle. She had already made games for the older boys and had paint boxes stashed away, plus coloring books and crayons and a few small things for the stockings. No matter what, they would have Christmas.
She had learned that it was important to prepare on her own for Eric couldn’t be counted on even at Christmas. Some years, depending on his frame of mind, Eric bought great toys for the boys, and perhaps this would be one of those good years. But regardless of what he chose to do, she would be ready. If this turned out to be a Christmas that Eric decided not to buy anything, she would have something for them even though it wasn’t a lot. She had discovered a recipe for play dough in a magazine and had made a batch for them for Christmas last year and they had played for hours with it. She would wait until Christmas Eve for, by then, she would know whether or not she would need to make them some. She could make it in pink, yellow, blue and green, and pack it in baggies for the children. But for now, she needed to finish this last knitted toy before the boys got out of school for Christmas holidays. Danny slept a little longer than usual and she was able to finish the fuzzy black dog and put it away before Danny got up and the other boys returned from school.
Emily peeled the potatoes and put them and the rest of the dinner on to cook, then set the big kitchen table. While dinner cooked, she played Chinese Checkers with the children. "How nice it is to hear laughter in the house," she thought as she looked out the window and noticed that it had become quite dark. When the game ended she went to the kitchen to check on dinner. She was at the stove when she noticed Eric's car lights turn in the driveway. Suddenly she froze.
"Oh, my God. The porch light!"
With a clatter, she dropped the spoon she was holding as she ran to the laundry room, bruising her shin on one of the kitchen chairs when she bumped into it as she rushed past, and switched on the porch light before the car came to a complete stop. An uneasy silence settled over the house, broken only by the sound of joyous Christmas music coming from the cassette, which suddenly sounded like a mockery when mixed with the sudden tension in the house. As the door opened and then closed, all movement stopped and it seemed as though the whole house was in a state of suspended animation as she and the children waited to gauge the mood of the man who was entering the house. Emily nervously licked her lips and steadied herself with a hand on the back of one of the cane back kitchen chairs.
"That's awfully cold out there," Eric, handsome and tall at 6' 2", with piercing dark, blue eyes and long thin face, looked around at his family, "Makes a man appreciate home." Until that moment, Emily had not been aware that she was holding her breath. Now, she released it slowly. Was it possible that Eric had not noticed the porch light?
"Supper's ready, Eric. When do you want it?"
"In a few minutes. Hey, Sam, shut that racket off and turn on the T.V. I want to see the news."
Eric moved to the big chair in the living room and sat down. Emily busied herself picking up the coat and boots that he had dropped and putting them away.
"Hey, Mom, want some help?" asked Sam.
The boys were all in the kitchen now. Even Danny had toddled out of the room, which had been taken over by his father.
"Why don't you all wash up for supper," she answered, "Sam, you can help Danny. And please don't splash any water on the floor."
When Eric came to the kitchen and took his place at the table, everyone was seated and waiting for him. Dinner was in bowls on the table, ready to be served and Emily had taken a minute to check the bathroom and straighten the towels before taking her seat at the table. The children were sitting quietly with hands folded, waiting for Eric to ask the blessing on the food. He took the opportunity to not only give thanks for the food, but also to expound on the virtues of submissive wives and obedient children and to point out how displeased the Lord is when total obedience is not forthcoming to the husband and father in the home who has been give charge over his family. He pointed out that the wrath of God would be called down upon those who don’t demonstrate complete obedience to the ten commandments, especially ‘Honor they father and they mother’. He finally pronounced the ‘Amen’, and reached for the platter of pork chops.
The meal was eaten in silence, with the boys eating quickly, hardly looking up from their plates. As soon as they could get away, the four boys went upstairs, Sam and Scott to do their homework and Kyle and Danny to play. Eric moved to the living room with a coffee while Emily cleaned up the kitchen. Despite the tension in the house that hung so heavily in the air, it turned out to be a peaceful evening.
Later that night, as Emily picked up the clothes that Eric had tossed on the floor as he undressed for bed, he snarled, "Get the boys hair cut tomorrow. I’m off so you can take the car in the morning and get it done. They look like a bunch of shaggy dogs. I can’t take them to church looking like that. I don’t know why you let things go like this. I don’t know of any other mother who would let their children go around looking like a pack of orphans." His voice was beginning to rise in pitch as his anger began to burn.
"I’m sorry, Eric. I’ll take them first thing tomorrow."
"And for Pete’s sake, do something with that mop of yours."
Emily ran her hand through her hair and wondered what was wrong with it. She had always thought that it was a style that complimented her, feathered back from her face on the sides, with soft waves spilling onto her forehead. Perhaps it didn’t really suit her after all.
"And while you are at it, get another hairdresser. Maybe somebody out there can make it look decent, though I’m sure I don’t know what anybody can do with it. Maybe it’s time you got it dyed. It's so darn dull. Do you ever stop to think what people must think of me when they see my wife going around looking so blasted old and drab? I wish that you had a little pride in yourself. The Bible says that a woman’s hair is her crowning glory. At least it is with other women. But you...well...I don’t know."
He pulled her down beside him and his voice softened. "I do love you, you know, even if you do look like crap." He patted her shoulder and released her. "Now go to bed. I'm tired."
Emily rolled away from him, a dull ache in her stomach. "He can’t even say ‘I love you’ without making it an insult." she thought, "Even when he’s not hitting he makes me feel awful. Why does he have to be so blasted mean?"
Next evening, after dinner, Eric got up from the table and took his coat from the closet. "I've got to go into Edmonton. Call John Vickers and tell him that I can't help him with his car tonight. The pastors asked me to fill in for him and visit old Tom Wilson at the hospital and I told him that I would." Emily agreed and made the call before she cleaned up the kitchen.
She was relaxing with a book a couple of hours later when the phone rang. She picked it up on the third ring. "Hello."
"Hi, Emily. It's Dorothy."
"Oh, hi Dorothy.”
"I - uh - I was just thinking about you and thought I’d call and see how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure everything is all right?”
“Yes, why?”
“Oh, just curious, I guess. What are you doing tonight?”
“I’m reading. I stopped at the library a couple of days ago and picked up a few books. What are you up to?”
“I'm making shortbread and sugar cookies. John loves them. I thought I’d make him a treat for when he and Eric finish working on the car.”
“Wha.........what did you say?”
“Emily, Eric is here, helping John, just like he said he would. Why did you think that he wasn’t coming?”
“He told me that he was going to Edmonton.”
There was silence on the line followed by a worried tone in Dorothy’s voice, "Emily, I hope you know that if you ever need anyone to talk to you can call me."
Emily wasn’t convinced that she would ever feel comfortable enough with Dorothy to confide in her but she was sure that the offer was sincere and she answered, "Well, sure I know that. But I know what he said. He said that he had to go to Edmonton to visit someone at the hospital. I’m not crazy. I know what he said."
"Hon, I was just talking to him about you. He's pretty worried."
"Worried! Why?"
"He thinks that your nerves are bad. He said that he thinks you’ve been imagining things lately. Honestly, he’s really worried about you."
"I know what he said.”
“But why would he say that, Em. Just think about it.”
“Why would I say that he told me he was going to Edmonton if he didn’t say it?"
"Em, hon, it’s no shame to have problems once in a while. We all have bad times. Let Eric help you through this. All he wants is what’s best for you and the boys. Why don’t you go see a doctor and get some help?”
Emily's mouth went dry and she could think of nothing to say. Why had Eric done this again? Was it a head game, or was he trying to make her look crazy for some sinister reason? What on earth could he gain by doing this?
"Emily. Emily, are you still there?"
"Yes." How could she explain that this was not her imagination, but that Eric had lied to her for some reason? There was no way that they would believe her, especially with Eric there, telling them a totally different story and them being Eric's friends. There was simply no possibility that Dorothy would believe her against Eric. Knowing Eric, he would have been very convincing as he confided his worries to Dorothy.
"Em, talk to me, please. Eric is so worried about you. Why won't you agree to see a doctor? That's all he's asking of you. Bad nerves are nothing to be ashamed of. Gosh, lot’s of people need help once in a while.”
"I'm sorry, Dorothy. I've got to go."
"Please, Emily. Don't hang up. We've been friends for a long time and to tell you the truth, I'm worried too. I promise I’ll be there for you. If you'll call your doctor tomorrow and get a referral to someone who can help, I'll go with you if Eric can't. You have to look after yourself."
"I don't need a doctor.” Emily suddenly sounded very tired, “Eric told me to call you because he was going to visit Mr. Wilson at the hospital tonight. Dorothy, I'm not crazy."
"I know that you aren't crazy. We all forget things and get things mixed up now and again. But you have to think about Eric and the boys."
"He asked me to call."
"O.K., if you say so. But think about what I said."
"I really have to go now."
"I'll call you tomorrow."
Emily slowly replaced the receiver. "What is he doing?” she thought, “I know he told me to phone. I'm not crazy."
She was waiting in the living room that night when Eric arrived home. He appeared completely unconcerned as he came into the room and threw his coat on a chair in the corner.
"I didn't think you would still be up." he said.
Emily swallowed nervously. "I need to talk to you."
"Well, make it snappy. I've got a busy day tomorrow."
"Eric, why did you ask me to phone John tonight?"
"What are you talking about? Why would I ask you to phone John? I just left his place."
"Before you left you told me to phone John and tell him that you couldn't go over there tonight."
"Jeez, Emily, you really are totally nuts. Why would I do that?"
"You said that you had to go to Edmonton tonight."
"Right. Edmonton. If you say so, Emily." He turned away and muttered, "There’s nothing between those ears but the blooming wind."
"You said you were going to Edmonton."
"You know," he turned back toward her, "You are really losing it. This kind of crap is happening too often. You've got to get a grip, or else see a shrink. I've got problems enough without having to deal with a psycho wife. I'm going to bed. I have to get up and go to work tomorrow. Somebody in this family has to work you know."
"But, Eric-"
"Look, it's too late to tip-toe around your fantasyland tonight. I'm going to bed."
"But-"
"I said don't do this tonight, I'm tired. If you can't figure out what's real and what's not, get some help. Don't expect me to explain it away."
Emily sat for sometime in the darkened room after Eric had gone upstairs to bed, trying to make some sense of the jumble of thoughts that churned around in her mind. Things like this were happening too often lately and she was beginning to wonder what was real and what was just in her mind. Could it be possible that she was losing her grip on reality? Had she just imagined the conversation earlier that evening? She went over it, carefully, word by word. "I'm sure he told me to call. I couldn't have imagined that, could I?"
Chapter 3
Emily watched the school bus pull away and turned to the sink. She quickly washed the dishes and headed for the stairs. It was a beautiful, breezy day, warm for mid December; a perfect day to wash the sheets and dry them outside, and how she loved the fresh smell of sheets that had been dried on the clothesline. Danny was playing contentedly on the floor, so she thought that her timing was perfect.
Quickly, she stripped the bed in Eric's and her room and tossed the sheets down the stairs, before m
oving to Sam and Scott's room, where she repeated the process. She was almost finished in Kyle and Danny's room when she heard a car drive in.
"I wonder who that is?" she murmured, peering out the window. When she saw the car parked in front of the house, she froze momentarily. "Oh no, Eric."
She hurried to the stairs to get the sheets picked up but was only part way down when Eric stepped into the doorway at the bottom. The frown on his face made her heart sink. "Oh, God, no. Here we go," she thought, "I'm in trouble."
"Hi honey," she said aloud, trying to sound cheerful in an attempt to deflect any irritation or anger that might face her. "This is a nice surprise. I didn't expect you home for hours yet. Is everything all right?"
Eric snarled, "Obviously you didn't expect me home. What is this mess?"
Emily hurried down the remaining steps and began to gather up the sheets. "I thought it would be a good day to do laundry."
"Oh, I see. This is the laundry!!!” The icy sarcasm in his voice was terrifying. “Now, let me get this straight, you are doing the laundry on the stairs, instead of in the laundry room. That’s why we have this mess. Right!”
“I'm sorry, Eric, I thought it would be easier to toss them down."
"You thought! No! You didn’t think. This is just another example of your laziness. You’re too lazy to carry them to the laundry room. Why can’t you use that empty head of yours to think with for a minute? ‘Cleanliness is next to Godliness’, you know. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard that." He stepped towards her, grabbed her by the arm and thrust his face close to hers, “Say it - ‘Cleanliness is next to Godliness’.”
Nervously, she licked her lips and stepped back, “I'll take them right now.”
“Repeat it!” he bellowed.
Leaving Sharpstone Page 2