This Time Forever (5 page)

The elderly librarian smiled at her. “We just received this book yesterday,” she said, tapping the book Oprah had recommended.

Mickelle’s heart quickened with embarrassment, but she willed her face not to flush. “How lucky for me,” she said, pulling it toward her and stacking the novels on top.

The librarian’s white head bobbed with pleasure. “We have plenty more on that subject if you’d like me to show you . . .”

“Not today, thanks. I’m in a hurry.” Mickelle flashed her a stiff smile and headed quickly for the door. Safely outside, she paused and took a breath of the fresh spring air. She shut her eyes, willing her heart to slow to normal. Why did it bother her so much to admit—even to herself—that she and Riley had serious problems?

She got into the Snail and dumped the books onto the passenger seat. The abuse book fell on top. She again covered it with the novels.
If Riley sees this . .
.

When she arrived home, the boys were still playing soccer and the phone was ringing. She answered it.

“Where have you been?” a gruff voice demanded. It was Riley, calling from work.

“The library.”

“Why?”

“I had some books that were due, that’s all.”

“I’ve been calling for a long time.”

“The boys are outside playing, or they would have picked up. I was only gone for half an hour.”

“I think it was longer.”

Mickelle knew better than to argue. Riley hated for her to go anywhere without telling him about it beforehand. Was that why she had stopped visiting her sisters? Her parents? Her friends? Her heart started beating oddly again, and she had to force herself to focus on what her husband was saying.

“. . . dumb jerk gave it to Greg, can you believe it? When I think of all the favors and all the bootlicking . . . and then he gives the promotion to Greg. I’m so angry I could—I could kill him! Maybe I should quit! Then they’d all see how much they need me!”

Panic rose in Mickelle’s heart. Money was tight enough without him thinking about such a drastic move. “There’ll be another promotion,” she soothed. “Probably a better one.”

“I wanted to go to the new store in California. It would have been fun. No more snow and cold. Warm beaches. Ooh, I wish I dared do something . . . Now I’m going to be shoveling snow for another winter.”

Mickelle felt a sudden absurd desire to laugh. Riley almost never shoveled snow; that task usually fell to her and the boys. Occasionally he’d do the front walk, but mostly he was at work, trying to make ends meet.

“Maybe I’ll take a second job. Stop working overtime here.”

Mickelle breathed easier. “You’ll think of something. Everything’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be home in an hour,” Riley said. “I’m not staying late tonight. What are you going to do now?”

“Make dinner.”

“Good. Well, I’ve got to go.”

“I love you.”

“You, too.” He hung up.

As Mickelle replaced the receiver, her eyes fell on the books she’d spread across the small bar where they normally ate their meals. She quickly gathered the books and carried them to her room, where she added them to the small stack beneath her dilapidated bed. For the millionth time, she couldn’t help wishing they could afford better furniture—or, failing that, at least a nightstand.

She thought of her parents’ house, of the elegant and tasteful furniture that was the result of a lifetime of good planning and thrift. She wondered if she and Riley would ever reach that point. At least she had her curio cabinet. Besides, material possessions weren’t among her primary goals in life.

She left the books and returned to the kitchen, stopping for a moment to check on the boys in the backyard. They were wrestling now, but Bryan was obviously not using his full strength. Mickelle smiled, and a lump formed in her throat. How lucky she was to have them! She’d wanted more children, especially a daughter, but after Jeremy arrived, Riley had wanted her to “do something permanent about it.” A tear escaped her eye as she remembered.

“No, I can’t,” she’d said, fighting the panic inside her heart. She’d been raised to believe that the ability to procreate was a gift from the Lord, and she wasn’t ready to terminate it so quickly. That was a decision to be made only after much prayer and discussion.

“Why not?” he demanded, the telltale red rising into his square face.

“Because I want more children. I want a daughter.”

“I don’t. Children are too expensive.”

“Then you do the surgery, because I won’t.” Mickelle had stood her ground, but even now felt queasy when she remembered his anger. She’d thought he would hit her, even wished he would. At least then she might fight back. Instead, he’d not spoken to her for a week, except to make comments meant to hurt her feelings.

In the end, neither of them had undergone surgery, and since Riley refused to take other precautions, Mickelle had hoped she would have another child. Riley would have been furious, of course, but he would have been forced to live with it.

But another child had never come. Mickelle had nearly given up hope.

She put a dinner of rice and meat on the stove to cook before going to change into something nice for her church meeting. The air in the small room was stifling, so she opened the window before pulling on a pair of newer jeans and a short-sleeved sweater. Then she applied makeup and brushed her blond hair that seemed to grow darker with each passing year. She smiled at herself in the mirror, her spirits revived.
Amazing what a little blush and lipstick can do.

She checked on dinner and the boys again before returning to the room to pick up a book without looking at the title.
Just for a few moments,
she told herself. The book in her hand was the one about abuse. She put it down.
I don’t need this. It was silly to get it. I’ll take it back.
She read a chapter of a novel instead, losing herself in other people’s problems that kept her own at bay.

When Riley arrived, Mickelle greeted him with a hug and kiss and called the boys in for dinner. They sat around the small bar on stools instead of using the square table by the stairs to the basement. Mickelle found it easier to clean up this way, and they’d fallen into the habit of only using the table for birthdays and holidays.

Riley was in a sullen mood, and he said little as the boys chattered about their day. As usual, Bryan and Jeremy finished eating quickly. They didn’t seem to notice their father’s silence.

“I only have two Pokémon left to catch, Mom,” Bryan told her, his face lighting with enthusiasm. Pokémon was the latest game cartridge their grandparents had given them, one version for each boy. “Then I’ll have them all. Have you seen my DS?”

“On the couch,” Mickelle said. “You might want to think about keeping it in your room. I accidentally sat on it today. After spending so much money for your birthday, Grandma and Grandpa wouldn’t be happy if something happened to it.” Bryan headed for the living room. Jeremy followed, but returned shortly with a piece of blank drawing paper. “I’m going to draw Pikachu,” he announced.

“Is he your favorite Pokémon?” Mickelle asked him indulgently. She glanced at Riley, who continued to eat without looking up.

Jeremy nodded. “He’s the cutest, but I like Charmander, too. I wish I had them both. A kid at school says you can get them for three bucks at Shopko. They come with a poké ball and everything. You can carry them at your waist, just like in the cartoons.”

“What’s a poké ball?”

Jeremy looked at her incredulously. “That’s what you put the Pokémon in. Didn’t I tell you?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe,” Mickelle laughed.

Riley continued to eat in silence. Mickelle knew he was brooding about the lost promotion, but there was nothing either of them could do about it. Secretly, she was relieved that they wouldn’t have to move, sandy beaches or no.

Jeremy moved to the drawer in the bar where they kept the markers. He tried to pull it open, but Riley’s body blocked part of the way. Jeremy tried again.

All at once, Riley exploded. He slammed the drawer shut, barely missing Jeremy’s fingers. “Can’t you see I’m eating? Just because you’re finished doesn’t mean the rest of us are! Darned kids are so selfish. All they ever think about is themselves!”

The light in Jeremy’s blue eyes disappeared. For a moment he stood completely still, and then his chin quivered and he looked as if he was going to cry. “I just wanted to draw,” he said in a barely audible whisper.

“You can wait!” Riley thundered, not looking up from his plate. He loaded another forkful of rice into his mouth.

Jeremy blinked hard and stared at Riley. Mickelle could bear it no longer. She jumped to her feet and hustled Jeremy from the room. “Why don’t you watch your brother play for a while? You can draw later.”

Jeremy glanced toward the kitchen. “Why is he so mean?”

She put her arms around him. “He’s had a hard day, that’s all. He wanted a new job at work, and someone else got it.”

“He could have said it nicely.”

Mickelle’s heart wanted to break at the pain in her little boy’s voice. “Yes, he could have. But even dads make mistakes. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love you.”

“I know, but he’s still mean.” Jeremy turned from her and went to the couch, where Bryan was engrossed in his game. Mickelle was relieved that neither child had homework and she didn’t have to make them do it. She returned to the kitchen where Riley was finishing his food.

“Riley, I . . .” Most things Mickelle could let slide, but Jeremy was too important.

“They have to learn,” Riley said. “And we have to teach them.”

“I know, but if you said it in a different way . . .”

“I’m tired. I’ve had a bad day.”

“Jeremy doesn’t know that. He shouldn’t have to pay for your bad days. He deserves to be treated nicely.” Mickelle left the kitchen quickly, before Riley could say something hurtful. If she gave him time to think, sometimes the whole cycle of hurt and honeymoon could be avoided.

In her room, she read another chapter of her novel before realizing she was late for her meeting. She flew to the living room, wanting to make sure the boys were all right before she left. She stopped suddenly in her tracks at the scene before her.

Riley sat between the boys on the couch, Bryan’s DS console in his hands. “No, Dad,” Bryan was saying. “You can’t fight with Charmander again until you go to the Pokémon Center and heal him. He’s fainted.”

“Where is that?” Riley said.

“Go up. Keep going. Now over. No, the other way.” Both boys giggled. Jeremy’s head lay on Riley’s shoulder.

Mickelle found her spirits restored. “Okay, gang, I’m off.”

They looked up. “Where are you going?” Riley asked.

“Church. Relief Society meeting.”

“It’s tonight?”

“Yeah.”

Riley frowned. “Why don’t you stay home? We’ll miss you, right guys?”

“Mom doesn’t like to play Pokémon,” Jeremy said matter-of-factly.

“That’s right,” Mickelle said. Riley still looked reluctant to let her go, but Bryan was urging him to heal his Pokémon. She made her escape the second Riley looked back at the game. Why was he always so possessive of her time? The truth was, Mickelle needed a break from all of them—especially Riley. Sometimes it was relaxing to hang out with the sisters at church.

When she arrived home a few hours later, the dinner dishes had been washed and were drying in their rack. The counters weren’t very clean and the floor wasn’t swept, but Mickelle was grateful for the effort Riley and the boys had made.

She found Riley in the living room watching TV. “Have fun?” he asked.

“It was all right.” She was careful not to respond too enthusiastically, because he might take it wrong. “I needed a break from the kids.”

“I just sent them to bed.”

“Thanks.” Mickelle went to their rooms to kiss them good night. Jeremy put his arms around her neck as she bent to kiss his forehead. “Did you have fun with dad?” she asked.

“Yeah, a lot.”

“Good. Did he say anything about changing his mind and taking you and Bryan fishing?”

“No. But that’s okay. Sometimes he’s mean, but I love him.”

“He hasn’t had an easy life, you know. And he loves you very much.”

“I know. Don’t tell him, but I kinda feel sorry for him.”

“He’ll be all right. Things are getting better every day.” Mickelle meant it. “I love you, honey. Have a good sleep.”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

Mickelle was on her way back to the living room when the phone rang in the kitchen. It was for Riley, and she brought the portable to him.

He talked for a few moments and then hung up the phone. “Oh, brother,” he said. “Someone from church calling to remind me about that long, boring teacher development meeting tomorrow night. I wouldn’t go if I hadn’t missed the last two. Those meetings are stupid. Like I don’t know how to teach already. I hate them telling me how to do my job. If I’m not doing well enough, they should get rid of me. Heaven knows I’ve been teaching those kids in Primary long enough—two years. Humph! And they think they can teach
me
how to teach. I wish I didn’t have to teach at all. It takes so long to prepare, and it’s about time I got to go to Sunday School with the adults.”

Mickelle knew that, and suspected everyone else did as well. Outside the home, Riley wasn’t overly loud, but since the surgery, he did manage to make his opinions known. As for teaching, she suspected that he’d get more out of it if he didn’t prepare the lessons during the first meeting when he should be listening to the speakers.

The rest of the week went well for Mickelle. She felt happier than she had in a long time. The new washer ran like a charm and lightened her work load considerably. Buying it had certainly been the right thing to do, whatever Riley’s reaction.

On Friday, Riley came home with the announcement that he’d been given a raise. Mickelle hoped this would alleviate his anger and hurt at not receiving the promotion.

“Maybe we should celebrate,” he told the boys. “Let’s go out for dinner.”

“We could go fishing with you tomorrow instead,” Jeremy suggested eagerly.