That Was Then...

by Melody Carlson

  “Thanks,” she said as if she really meant it. “I really do appreciate you, Kim.”

  And, okay, that just broke my heart. I mean, I was thinking about poor Natalie living in that horrible little apartment, going to the pregnant girl school, putting up with Ben’s anger and drinking binges—and was it possible that he was abusing her too? It just made me feel really sick.

  I’d be tempted to go over there right now, but it’s Ben’s day off, and I can’t stand the thought of seeing him face to face. I’m getting really mad at this guy. I’m thinking, grow up! I mean, sure, Ben never wanted this, but he made all the choices that landed him here. No one forced him to have sex with Nat. No one held a gun to his head to marry her. And I’m sorry, but if he’s feeling trapped right now, well, it’s a trap of his own making. Get over it, Benjamin O’Conner!

  Dear Jamie,

  Everyone in my family is fat. Both my parents and my sisters and even my little brother are all obese. I mean, really fat. Like together we might be a ton overweight, but I can’t remember how big that is. The thing is, I don’t want to be fat. But I feel trapped. I feel like no matter what I do, as long as I live in this house, I will continue to be fat. I really want to leave home. But I’m only fifteen, and I know I can’t live on my own. What should I do?

  Finished with Fat

  Dear Finished,

  The good news is that you want things to change. The bad news is that it’s probably not likely that you can move out. But you can still take control of your life—and your weight. It’s not that hard to lose weight, if you really want to, that is. Mostly it takes eating a sensible diet with things like fresh vegetables, fruits, whole grains, low fat proteins, combined with a lot of exercise—which can be as simple as just walking. I suggest you see your family doctor and get some professional advice about these things, and then stick to a program. Then let your family know you’re serious about losing weight, and maybe they’ll decide it’s time for them to change their lifestyle as well.

  Just Jamie

  Eight

  Saturday, December 2

  I didn’t have much success talking to Nat this week. It felt like she was trying to shut me out, acting like everything between her and Ben was perfectly fine and good and brushing off any questions that got too close.

  And when I talked to her yesterday, she actually sounded pretty good. She told me how she and Ben had gone to his parents for Thanksgiving and how great it had been and how cool it was to be part of their family. “Josh and Caitlin were there too,” she gushed. “And everyone is getting so excited about the baby. And it sounds like Caitlin is going to give me a baby shower.”

  Well, I must admit that’s a relief.

  So what was to prepare me for what happens today? On second thought, it might be better not to expect these kinds of things. Anyway, it starts off with a frantic phone call, early in the morning. My dad sleepily brings the phone to my room, telling me it’s Natalie.

  “Kim,” she says in a frantic voice. “I need help!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Can you come over?”

  “I—uh—I guess.”

  “Right now?”

  “I’m not even dressed.”

  “Please, Kim. I need you right now.”

  “What’s wrong?” I ask again. “Is it the baby?”

  “I’ll tell you when you get here.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Just hurry.”

  So I’m feeling a little freaked as I pull on some clothes and rush through the house.

  “Anything wrong?” my dad asks as he measures out the coffee.

  “I don’t know. Natalie sounds pretty upset.”

  “Is she having the baby?”

  “I don’t think so,” I say as I dig in my bag for my keys. “She wouldn’t say what was wrong. She just wanted me to come.”

  He frowns. “Hopefully she’s just being dramatic.”

  “Hopefully,” I say as I leave.

  But as I drive downtown I feel fairly sure that she’s not just being dramatic. And when I go into her apartment, it’s obvious that something is wrong. Really wrong. Although there’s no vomit on the floor this time, the place is a wreck, and I see what appear to be broken dishes swept into a pile in a comer and a broken chair that’s sitting in a heap.

  “What happened?” I ask in a voice that’s much calmer than I feel.

  “Ben flipped out.” She’s pacing back and forth in the tiny living room now, wringing her hands as tears pour down her face. “He was drunk—and—and he was being mean—and—and he told me he hated me and that he didn’t want to be married and that he’d—he’d rather be dead.”

  “Oh, Nat.” I go over and put my arms around her, and I’m amazed at how big her stomach has gotten. But she is shaking, and it feels like she’s about to fall completely apart.

  “I—I don’t know what to do, Kim.”

  “Sit down,” I tell her as I lead her to the futon, which is still in one piece. “Just sit here and try to breathe.” Then I go to the kitchen, where the cupboard doors are hanging open, some by only one hinge, and I find a glass and fill it with water. Who knows why I do this? But I take it back and tell her to drink it slowly. And she does.

  I glance toward the closed bedroom door. “Is Ben in there?”

  She shakes her head and hands me back the glass. “He left.”

  “In his car?”

  She shrugs.

  “He was driving his car, Nat? Drunk?”

  “I guess…”

  This is not good. Nat is still shaking, and I’m afraid I’m not helping much. “Have you had anything to eat, Nat?”

  She just gives me this blank look.

  So I go back in the kitchen and pour her a glass of orange juice and bring it back. “Drink this. Remember it’s not just you…it’s the baby too.”

  So she drinks it, and I think maybe she’s not shaking so much. But as I sit there, I do not know what to do. It’s like I can’t wrap my mind around this whole situation—a situation that I’ve felt was wrong from the get-go. Not that I’m glad to have been right about this. I would’ve much rather been wrong.

  “I don’t know what to do, Kim,” she says again. “I’ve just been walking around the apartment for hours, trying to figure out what to do.”

  “And you didn’t call your mom or anything?”

  “How can I?”

  I consider this. How can she not? I mean, it’s not like she can hide this thing forever. “Why don’t you go lie down, Nat. You and the baby could probably use some rest.”

  She starts to resist, but I take her by the hand, tugging her to her feet and finally walking her to the bedroom. It’s not quite so messy in here. The bed is made, but I can tell someone has slept on top of it. I pull back the covers and help her to ease herself down then tuck her in. “Just rest. I’ll start cleaning stuff up.”

  “Thanks, Kim…”

  I close the door and go back out and look around. But instead of cleaning up, I step out the front door and turn on my cell phone. I call information and get Josh and Caitlin’s number.

  “Hello?” says Caitlin.

  “Caitlin,” I say in a shaky voice. “This is Kim Peterson and I’m with Natalie right now and—”

  “Is she going into labor?”

  “No, no…” I try to think how to put this. “It’s not that…but there’s a problem, a pretty big problem—with, uh, Ben and Nat. Do you think that you and Josh could come over to the apartment?”

  “Of course. We’ll be right there.”

  “Thanks.”

  I go back into the apartment and consider cleaning up the mess, but then I decide to wait. I want them to see this for what it is. Including the empty Jack Daniel’s bottle still on the floor.

  Josh and Caitlin get there about twenty minutes later, and I open the door and let them in. “Nat’s asleep,” I say in a quiet voice.

  “What happened?” Josh asks as he sees the mess.
>
  “Where’s Ben?” asks Caitlin.

  And so I try to tell them the story. I try not to make Ben sound too much like the devil.

  “Oh my gosh!” Caitlin says as she sits down on the futon. “This is unbelievable.”

  “So you guys had no idea?”

  “Cesar told me that Ben was dealing with something,” admits Josh. “I met him for coffee one night, and it seemed like it was just regular newlywed stuff. Ben acted like things were okay, just a little rocky. I figured it was natural that he was struggling some. Getting married and becoming a parent…”

  “And being only seventeen,” adds Caitlin.

  “I had no idea he’s been drinking.”

  “Or abusive,” says Caitlin. While pouring out my story, I had told them about Nat’s black eye.

  “I don’t know that for sure,” I say quickly. “It’s just an assumption.”

  “It doesn’t really matter,” says Josh. “It’s obvious that they’re in trouble.”

  “I hope Ben’s okay,” says Caitlin.

  “Why don’t you try his cell?” suggests Josh.

  So Caitlin goes into the kitchen and uses the phone.

  “I didn’t know who to call,” I say lamely. “And it didn’t seem right not to tell anyone. Although Nat’s going to be really mad.”

  “You did the right thing, Kim.”

  “His phone’s turned off,” says Caitlin. I can see the worry in her eyes.

  “He’s probably sleeping it off somewhere,” says Josh.

  “Should we clean this up?” Caitlin looks around the apartment.

  Josh nods. “That’s probably a good place to start.”

  So we all start cleaning stuff up, and it actually doesn’t take too long. We’re just finishing up when Natalie comes out of the bedroom. I can tell by the way she looks at me that she’s angry. But then Josh and Caitlin both hug her and tell her that they’re here to help, and I think I can see relief in her eyes.

  “I had to call someone,” I say. “And I knew you didn’t want your mom to see this.”

  “It’s okay,” she says sadly.

  “You’re going to have to make some decisions,” Caitlin tells Nat. “But you don’t have to make them right now.”

  “That’s right,” agrees Josh.

  “I want you to pack some things,” continues Caitlin. “And then we’re taking you home with us.”

  Natalie looks around the apartment. “But this is my home.”

  “No, it’s not,” I tell her. “This is not a home, Nat. This is a prison.”

  And then she starts to cry.

  “I’m sorry, but it’s the truth, Nat. This whole thing is like a prison.”

  “Come on,” Caitlin urges her. “We’ll help you to pack some things.”

  So the three of us go into the bedroom and gather up some of Nat’s clothes and personal items, putting them into a duffle bag, and finally we’re ready to go.

  “Shouldn’t I leave a note for Ben?” Nat says, holding on to the front doorknob.

  “No,” says Josh. “Might be a good way to make Ben think about some things. Besides, I’ll be in touch with him. I’ll let him know what’s up.”

  I feel kind of at a loss as I watch the three of them drive away, like I’m no longer needed. And yet I’m relieved. Nat’s in good hands now. Josh and Caitlin will help her to figure out what to do.

  And yet when I get home and sit at my computer to work on some homework and end up writing in my diary instead, I’m still really worried about Nat. What’s going to happen now?

  Since I can’t answer that, I decide to answer a letter for my column.

  Dear Jamie,

  I know your letters are for teenagers and I’m only ten, but I decided to write you anyway. My problem is that I really, really, really want a dog!!! But my mom won’t let me have one. What can I do to make her see that I gotta get a dog?

  Dogless Dog Lover

  Dear DDL,

  First you need to ask your mom what her reasons are for not letting you have a dog. And you need to respect those reasons, especially if she says your house is too small or someone in your family has allergies or owning a pet is too expensive. In that case, you might offer to walk neighborhood dogs or see if you can volunteer at the local animal shelter—and that way you can still spend time with dogs. But if your mom’s reasons don’t seem reasonable, you might try writing out a contract where you agree to take care of the dog all by yourself. And list all the things that are involved in owning a dog. You may even have to consider working to earn money to help with expenses. If she sees that you’re willing to do all that, maybe she’ll decide that you’re old enough and responsible enough to own a dog.

  Just Jamie

  Nine

  Friday, December 8

  So much has happened this week…where do I begin? For starters, Nat and Ben appear to be history. Serious history. Oh, Nat still has her moments when she thinks they could get back together, but I keep reminding her of the facts and giving her small doses of reality—not to depress her, but just to keep her head in the present.

  Caitlin and Josh and Mr. and Mrs. O’Conner confronted Ben in the apartment later that same day we moved Nat out. I guess Ben had a pretty bad hangover, which made it even easier for them to make their point. Kind of an intervention, really. And it sounds like they did it in love, which was better than I probably would’ve done. I seriously wanted to lay into that boy. But as Nat keeps reminding me, I need to forgive him. I’m amazed at how easily she can forgive him. What’s up with that?

  “It’s partly my fault,” she told me on Monday. It was the first night she came to stay at our house. Nat’s mom is too angry to allow Nat to go home just yet—if ever. And maybe it’s for the best. We’ve got plenty of room here, and Nat seems to appreciate it. I was surprised at how easily my dad handled it. He was like “no problem.” I think he was actually relieved to have Nat come here since it turns out he’s been as worried about her as anyone. And the funny thing is, Nat listens to him. He was even talking to her about how adoption was really a wonderful thing, and she didn’t argue. Go figure!

  Anyway, back to Nat and how she thinks the big blowup with Ben is partially her fault.

  “I can see now that it was the marriage, the pregnancy, the responsibility that was making Ben crazy,” she told me that night. “It’s just too much for a guy his age to deal with.”

  I nodded, thinking, Yeah, duh, I tried to tell you that about a billion times. But I don’t say this.

  “Ben never would’ve started drinking if we hadn’t gotten married,” she said sadly. “Josh helped me understand that.”

  “It did seem pretty out of character for Ben,” I admitted. “I could hardly believe it at first.”

  “Me too. And then I told myself it was just a one-time thing. But it happened again, and again, and again…”

  “Do you think Ben’s an alcoholic?” I asked.

  “He’s agreed to an outpatient rehab treatment program. He’ll get some counseling and report to a mentor and attend AA meetings for six months.”

  “Wow, Nat, that’s a pretty big commitment.”

  “Yeah, his parents told him that was the only way they’d let him come back home.”

  “So he’s back home?”

  She nodded with a glum expression.

  “I know this is really hard on you,” I told her in my most compassionate voice. “But, in the long run, I think you’ll see it’s for the best.”

  She shrugs. “Maybe…”

  “Caitlin told me that she thinks it might be a good thing you guys got married.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. She said that it might’ve been the only way for you both to figure out that it wouldn’t work. I mean, if you hadn’t gone through all of that, you might still be thinking there was hope.”

  “I suppose…”

  “I know that God can still bring something good out of this, Nat.”

  She sighed. “May
be, but sometimes I feel like I’m sitting in the bottom of a great big hole, a hole that just keeps getting deeper.”

  And I can understand how she might feel that way, but I happen to think she’s slowly climbing out of the hole. I mean, she’s been functioning pretty well this week. She uses my mom’s old car to drive herself to the pregnant school every morning. And then she comes home and helps out around the house.

  She even watches Krissy and Micah for a couple of hours after school, which you’d think would please her mom, although Mrs. McCabe is still treating Nat like she’s a good-for-nothing degenerate. It’s like she hates her own daughter. And, okay, Nat’s blown it, but shouldn’t she be forgiven? Especially by her own mother? Her mother who claims to be a Christian? I just don’t get that.

  Wednesday, December 13

  I think my dad is making some real headway with Nat. It’s amazing how she will listen to him. I suppose it has to do with her “absent” father. I know she’s been hungry for male attention. That’s probably one of the reasons she glommed onto Ben last year. I think he was sort of a “daddy replacement” for her. Oh, I’d never say that to her. Or anyone for that matter. But it’s safe in my diary. Anyway, tonight at dinner, which Nat made on her own, my dad surprises both of us by asking Nat what her plans are.

  “Plans?” she says as she passes me the butter.

  “For your future?” he persists. “And for your baby?”

  “Oh…”

  “Not that you’re not welcome to stay here,” he says. “At least until the baby is born. I can’t really say what will happen after that. But what are you thinking?”

  “I, uh, I don’t really know.” She frowns. “I thought I’d have my diploma before Christmas break, but that doesn’t look like it’s going to happen now. All the stuff with Ben and everything, well, I missed quite a few classes this fall.”