Being diagnosed with depression had shocked Libbie. Yes, she knew she’d felt down at times, and she did experience anxiety often, but she hadn’t thought it was so bad as to be diagnosed as a condition. Didn’t everyone experience ups and downs with their emotions? It worried her that Jack would think less of her now that she’d been labeled as depressed. She was determined to prove that she was fine. She’d take the antidepressant and Valium as directed and prove she could control her emotions.
The first thing she did when she got back to the cottage was hug Spence. She’d missed the kitten and carried him all over the little home with her nearly all day. Bev had left food in the freezer and fridge so they could heat it up for dinner over the next week. She’d left a delicious pan of frosted brownies on the table, with a note saying that she hoped Libbie would feel better soon. Libbie’s heart warmed at the thought of Bev and Jack’s entire family. They were so kind to her. She felt lucky to have them as her family, too.
For the next two weeks, Libbie felt useless in her own home. Her father had sent Sandra over to help with the cleaning and laundry so Libbie could rest. Carol came to visit often—more than she had all winter—and Bev and Jan came to visit in rotation, too. Candy and Jackie also stopped by on a regular basis—something they hadn’t done since the accident. Libbie suspected that the visitor schedule had been orchestrated by Jack so she wouldn’t feel alone while he was at work. It made her feel that he didn’t trust her to be alone during the day. But she didn’t mention it to him. Even with her new medication, she felt fragile, like she could fall to pieces at any moment. The visits actually took her mind off how she felt.
April brought warmer weather, and soon the snow melted and the lake opened up to blue water again. Jack and Libbie began taking evening walks along the lakeshore and drives to the Dairy Queen for a treat or to the A&W for a burger. Jack promised Libbie they’d have a wonderful, peaceful summer at the cottage again this year, and then if they had enough money, they’d look for a house of their own in the fall. Libbie hoped they could. She no longer loved the cottage as she had that first summer. She was looking forward to a place of their own.
The first part of May, the girls next door said good-bye. They were moving back home to Minneapolis for the summer and weren’t sure where they’d be the next winter.
“We’re thinking of finishing our next two years at a school closer to home,” Candy said. “It’ll save money for us and our parents.”
Libbie waved good-bye as they drove off. Even though they hadn’t spent much time together since last October, she was going to miss them. Since she’d graduated high school, she’d done nothing but say good-bye to friends, and it made her sad.
By now, Larry had been gone for ten weeks. He was in a training camp in South Carolina, which seemed so far away to Libbie. Occasionally, they’d receive a one-page letter from him saying he was fine and surviving boot camp, but with no details. She’d sent him a photo of her and Spence in her last letter, and he remarked on how big the kitten had grown. Libbie was surprised at how much she missed Larry. She thought about him often and hoped he was doing well.
Summer was difficult for Libbie despite the nice weather and longer days. She tried, for Jack’s sake, to enjoy rides in the canoe, walks along the lake, or going to the outdoor movies in the park, but nothing helped to lift her mood. In fact, she felt nothing at all. Dull, that was the only word she could come up with to describe it. The days Jack worked were long and boring for her, and some days she didn’t have the energy to go outside and enjoy the weather. She’d sit inside, holding Spence, watching television and taking naps. But she always made sure to have something cooking for dinner by the time Jack came home. She didn’t want him to know how terrible she felt. She watched every word she said around him and pretended to be happy, even when she just wanted to crawl off to bed and sleep. She put on a good show, but it drained her. She was afraid of how he’d react if he knew how unhappy she was. What if Jack decided he’d had enough of her and left? Her whole reason for living would be gone.
And then maybe the thought of overdosing wouldn’t be so scary after all.
Jack knew Libbie was struggling despite the medication she was taking. Her eyes no longer sparkled, and it seemed as if she cared about nothing. When he’d suggest a fun outing to cheer her up, he could tell she was just pretending to be excited. That made him sadder than if she’d just told him no.
On their first anniversary, he surprised her with flowers and dinner out at the Lakeshore Inn, the restaurant they’d eaten in the night he had given her his class ring. Afterward, he took her to the same park they used to love going to, where the old tree hung over the water. Laughing, they took off their shoes and climbed out onto the branch, where they sat and watched the sunset, their feet skimming the cool water. It had been such an intimate moment, and Jack kissed her as the sun touched the lake, turning everything around them a soft orange. For a few hours, he felt like he had the old Libbie back, the carefree girl from high school. But the moment they returned to the cottage, her demeanor changed, making Jack feel as if there were a wall rising between them.
They rarely made love anymore. At night when they’d go to bed, Libbie rolled over and fell asleep quickly. Jack missed holding her in his arms. But he didn’t complain. The doctor had said it might take weeks before she felt like her old self again after starting the antidepressant. It had been three months, and still she seemed unhappy. He just wanted Libbie to feel good again, like the girl she used to be, for her sake more than for his.
On a Saturday in mid-June, there was a rapping on their cottage door. Jack and Libbie had been getting ready to run errands in town and neither expected visitors. When Jack opened the door, there stood Randall, smiling, with Abigail.
“Hello, Jack,” Randall said in a booming voice. “We have a surprise for you and Libbie. Can you come with us for a little while?”
Libbie had walked up beside Jack, slipping her hand around his arm and holding on tightly. She looked nervous to see her parents. Randall came in and hugged her close, and Jack saw her relax. He realized it was Abigail who intimidated her, and he didn’t have to wonder why. Abigail intimidated everyone. She stood stiffly on the front porch, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Jack noticed that Abigail looked even thinner and paler than when he’d seen her at Easter. She seemed different, too. Not as self-assured. It made him wonder all over again about what Gwen had said in the hospital after Libbie’s overdose. She’s sensitive, just like our mother. She can’t face reality without booze and pills. Those words had stuck with him all these months, and he wondered how true they were. Was Abigail an alcoholic? Is that why she looked so sickly? He’d broached the subject with Libbie a couple of times, but she’d turned away each time and said she didn’t want to talk about it. So he’d let it be.
Now, looking at the older woman, he put on a smile and said, “Hello, Mrs. Wilkens. Please, come in.”
Abigail seemed to tighten up even more, her mouth a thin line and her hands clutched together. “I’m fine right here,” she said. “Randall, shall we go?”
“Ah, yes, let’s. I can’t wait for the kids to see our surprise.”
They all got into Randall’s Cadillac, and he drove to the north road that led away from the lake. About a mile up the road, he turned right, and then right again, into a new housing development that had sprouted up about two years ago. Each house stood on an acre of land, and most of the lots had been sold and houses built on them. They were modest houses, but nice, and the yards were kept up well, too. Children were playing in yards and riding their bikes on the sidewalks. Randall drove down to the end of the street where it formed a cul-de-sac and stopped in front of a tan ranch house with brown trim and shutters. It had a large bay window in the front, a door with gold glass inserts, and an attached double garage.
Randall parked and stepped out of the car, going around to open Abigail’s door and help her out. Jack turned to Libbie, but she shrugged, lo
oking as confused as he felt.
Soon they were all standing on the sidewalk in front of the house, staring at it.
“Well, what do you kids think?” Randall asked, smiling widely.
Jack wasn’t quite sure what to think, so he politely said, “It’s very nice.”
“Come on, let’s go inside,” Randall said. He wrapped one arm around Libbie’s shoulders and the other around Abigail’s, then walked up the sidewalk to the house. Jack followed.
Randall pulled a key out of his pants pocket and unlocked the door. He stood aside so the ladies could enter first, then waved Jack through. They all walked into the entryway.
Jack looked all around. There was a small glass chandelier hanging in the entryway and light hardwood flooring. A coat closet was on his left, and the living room ran the full length to the right. Gold shag carpeting and gold drapes decorated the large room. Randall led them through the living room, turning left into the connecting dining room, and then another left through an arched doorway into the kitchen. A bar-style pass-through between the kitchen and dining room stood to the right, with tall barstools on the dining room side. The kitchen had a light-gold tile floor, harvest-gold appliances, and dark wood cabinets. Everything was sparkling new.
Jack watched as Libbie gazed around her. Her eyes were shining with excitement. “Look, Jack. A dishwasher! Wouldn’t it be nice to have one? And everything is brand new.”
Jack nodded. It did look nice. And expensive.
Randall took them on a tour of the rest of the house, which included a laundry room, a master bedroom with attached bathroom, another smaller bedroom, and a guest bathroom. After circling back to the living room, Randall clapped his hands and asked, “What do you think?”
“It’s so cute,” Libbie said. “But why are you showing us this house? Is someone we know going to buy it?”
Randall grinned. “It’s already been purchased. I hope you love it, because this is your new home.”
Jack stared at Randall in disbelief, while Libbie squealed and ran over to hug her father.
“Really, Dad? Ours? But how? Did you buy it?”
Randall hugged her, obviously pleased to see his daughter so happy. “Yes, Libbie, really. It is yours. But don’t give me all the credit. It was your mother’s idea.”
Libbie turned to her mother who’d been standing quietly beside Randall, her arms stiff at her side. “It was your idea, Mom?”
Abigail nodded and gave a small smile that looked more like a grimace. “Yes, dear. I knew how unhappy you were living in that old cottage. Now you can live in a real house, where you’ll be warm all winter and have all the luxuries you deserve.”
Libbie hugged her mother. “Thank you, Mom. I love it.”
Abigail hugged her back stiffly.
Jack stood, speechless. He’d watched as Libbie’s eyes lit up with happiness, and he didn’t want to be the one to snuff it out. It had been so long since he’d seen her this excited. But he couldn’t let her parents buy them a house. And he knew there was no way he could afford a nice new house like this one, either.
Libbie ran over to Jack, her face beaming. “Don’t you love it, Jack?”
Jack took a deep breath to steel himself. “Yes, it’s very nice. But sweetie, I’m not sure we can afford this house.” He watched as her face fell and it tore at his heart.
“But you said we could look for a house this fall. Can’t we live here?”
Her voice was so sad, so pitiful, that Jack was at a loss as to how to answer. Randall came over and wrapped his arm around Libbie and smiled at Jack. “You don’t have to worry, Jack. We made the down payment for you, and the monthly payments are low. I knew you’d be too proud to let us buy you the house, but I’m sure you can easily afford the payments.”
“I’m not sure about that, sir,” Jack said. “This must be an expensive house.”
Randall brushed aside Jack’s concern with a wave of his hand. “Don’t be silly, son. It’s not bad at all. Let us do this for our Libbie and for you.”
Libbie grabbed Jack’s hands and stared up into his eyes. “Please, Jack? It’s so nice, and we’ll have our own home. Please say yes.”
Jack wavered a moment. Libbie’s happiness was all he wanted, but he was worried about more than just the monthly payments. Now there’d be an electric bill, a heating bill, and the cost of furniture for a place this big. He wasn’t sure he earned enough to cover it all. Jack glanced around him again, and his eyes settled on Abigail’s.
“You do want our Libbie to be happy, don’t you?” Abigail said, glaring at him.
Jack stared at Abigail. She’d been the one to upset Libbie at every turn, yet she had the nerve to put him on the spot. But denying Libbie the chance to live in this lovely home wasn’t an option, either. He didn’t feel as if he had a choice.
“Sure, sweetie. Of course we can live here,” Jack said.
Libbie squealed and hugged Jack, kissing his cheek. “We’re going to be so happy here. I can’t wait to move in.” She ran around hugging her father and mother again, bringing smiles to their faces, then grabbed her mother’s hand and pulled her toward the kitchen. “Let’s see everything again,” she said cheerfully.
Abigail smiled indulgently and followed her daughter.
Randall walked over to Jack and slapped him on the back. “I knew you wouldn’t let our Libbie down,” he said.
That was exactly what Jack was afraid he’d do if he couldn’t afford to keep this house.
They moved into their new house immediately, and Libbie asked Jack if she could use the money they’d been saving to buy furniture. He didn’t really have a choice—they had to have furniture—but he asked her to be careful because he worried he would need some extra money for bills. He had to admit, though, she was careful spending the money and did get everything for cost from her parents’ furniture store. But their savings dwindled regardless and Jack began to panic. He had an oil tank to fill up for their furnace before winter and other bills to pay. He knew his income wasn’t going to cover everything, and he’d have to find a way to earn extra money on the side. But he didn’t complain to Libbie. She was happier than she’d been since she’d overdosed, and he didn’t want to burst her bubble. He’d find a way to make things work out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Libbie adored her new home. She also loved every piece of her new furniture, from the oval, smoked glass dining room table to the brown suede sofa and tan swivel recliner. She’d paid Sandra, who was an excellent seamstress, to make a gold tufted pillow for the bay window seat, and Spence lay there daily, soaking up the sun. Libbie hung spider plants, Boston ferns, and ivy in the sunniest windows, and had colorful throw pillows set all around. Every room looked warm and cozy, and she felt so safe and secure in their new home.
They had a large backyard with a cement patio, where she’d placed a table and chairs, and a barbeque grill, too. It wasn’t long before the neighbors came over to introduce themselves, and Libbie was thrilled to make new friends. Many of the women were a few years older than she, and they already had two or three children, but they eagerly welcomed Libbie into the neighborhood. Most were full-time mothers, although a couple did have part-time jobs, so there was always someone home to visit with during the week. And on weekends there was always a neighborhood gathering where everyone was invited over for burgers on the grill. For the first time since graduating high school, Libbie had friends she could spend time with and she loved it.
For the rest of the summer, Libbie put all her energy into turning the house into a home, and she cleaned constantly, making sure everything was always perfect. She wanted Jack to know she appreciated his letting her buy so many nice things for the house, so she treated everything like she would a newborn infant—with tender loving care. She was so happy living in their new house and neighborhood that she stopped taking the Valium because she didn’t need it to fall asleep at night. She no longer worried or stressed over everything. She felt like her ol
d self again.
And when August slipped into September, Libbie’s biggest fear evaporated. Jack’s time for the draft was up. There was no chance of him leaving her to go to Vietnam. It was such a heavy weight off her. She felt like she could finally relax and enjoy their future together, now that she knew they had one.
As time went on and Libbie no longer felt stressed or depressed, she decided she didn’t need to take the antidepressant anymore. She hated how dull it made her feel, so when she ran out, she didn’t refill it. She was content with her life with Jack in this wonderful home and neighborhood—she didn’t need pills anymore.
Jack noticed the change in Libbie immediately. She was excited and energetic again, and that made him very happy. She kept the house spotless, cooked and baked, and spent time with the other women in the neighborhood. He knew how good it was for her to have friends, and he was glad he’d made the decision to live here after all—at least for Libbie’s sake.
For Jack, though, it took a little getting used to. He’d never lived in a brand-new home with all new furnishings, and he was afraid every time he walked through the door that he might ruin the carpet or a piece of furniture. The glass dining room table scared him to death. What if he dropped a plate on it and cracked the table? Libbie laughed at him for being so fearful and told him to relax and enjoy the place. “There’s nothing here that can’t be fixed or cleaned,” she’d told him with a warm smile. He knew it was true, but it made him uncomfortable just the same.
As summer changed into fall and their savings dwindled, Jack worried how he’d pay the bills. Everything except for heat was electric in the house, so their bill was quite high, especially with the hot water heater and the new clothes dryer running so often. He filled the oil tank so they would be ready to heat the house when winter arrived, and that cost a large chunk of money. Worse yet, the oil deliveryman told Jack that he would probably have to fill it monthly. Jack wasn’t sure if he could save enough money every month to do that.
Finding Libbie Page 20