This Time Forever (7 page)

She fought rising panic and fury. Why did she feel so helpless? “Don’t be ridiculous! I’d be going for an education.”

“Well, we don’t have the money, so there’s really no point in talking about it.”

She touched her abdomen, remembering the daughter of her dreams. “But I want to go.”

Mickelle saw his surprise. Ordinarily, she would have backed off by now. No, she wouldn’t have even brought it up. She would have deflected his first question by throwing the college brochure away.

“You don’t need to go,” he insisted. “You could work on the house or yard if you need something to do. Heck,” he smirked, “you could make a real dinner instead of corn dogs.”

She knew what he was really saying—that she wasn’t worth the added expense. That she wasn’t trustworthy, so he needed to keep track of her whereabouts. That she was a failure at being a wife and homemaker. Deep feelings of hurt began in her heart, but at the last minute Mickelle remembered that
she
had control of her emotions, and no matter what he said or did to her,
she
chose whether or not she would be happy.

She counted for a full five seconds and then forced a little chuckle. Remarkably, the hurt went away. She even felt sorry for him. “Oh, Riley. That’s funny. I would much rather play soccer with the boys than make dinner. And in case you hadn’t noticed, our yard looks great. Didn’t you see the flowers I planted today? And the peas in the garden have already grown more than a foot. I love taking care of our home and you and the boys. But please listen to what I’m saying. I want to go to school. I want to learn.”

His lips pursed as though tasting something sour. “I don’t have the money to give you.”

“Maybe I should get a job in the mornings while the boys are at school.”

“No way,” he growled.

Mickelle knew it wasn’t her suggestion that inflamed him, but the fact that she was holding her ground. She was taking control of her life instead of allowing him to control her.

Without another word, she turned and left the room. She climbed into bed and lay there without sleeping. Misery was close by, but she refused to let it settle over her in its customary place. Today had been wonderful, and already she could see that happiness was attainable. It wasn’t as easy as it had seemed this morning, but she wasn’t going to give up. She would fight for every moment of happiness—if not for herself, then for the children.

She loved Riley very much. This was a fact that she admitted freely to herself. When it was good between them, it was very good; when it wasn’t, she wanted to run away and hide. But this time she would fight to find and keep the best of what their life had to offer.

She was beginning to feel sleepy when Riley entered the room. He came to her side of the bed and sat down. “Are you awake?” he asked.

“Yes.” She sat up.

His face was barely discernible by the light coming from the streetlight outside their bedroom window. “I’m sorry,” he said in a cajoling voice. “I’ve been thinking about it, and maybe I do understand why you want to go to school.”

Mickelle waited for more. He peered at her, but it was obvious that his eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to the dim light of the room. If they had, he would see that she wasn’t hurt by his earlier comments.

“Can you forgive me?” he asked.

Still, she held her peace. She wanted him to think about what he was saying.

He added forlornly, “You don’t want a divorce, do you?”

Fury overcame her. As usual, he was using the words to evoke her pity, her sense of duty, her approval. And perhaps even as a threat. This time she wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

“Yes, I do,” she answered tightly, her heart racing at her audacity. “If you don’t start treating me better, then, yes, I want a divorce.”

She heard a swift intake of air as he gasped in surprise. She couldn’t see clearly in the dark, but she knew his square features would be turning a dark crimson. His mouth contorted, and for a moment she thought he was going to lose control and lash out physically. Fear swept through her, swift and paralyzing.

He swallowed noisily. “You really want a divorce? Am I that bad?” In the dark he looked pasty white, as though the color had suddenly fled from his face.

Mickelle shook her head. She gazed at him earnestly, willing him to hear and understand as he had never done before. “I love you, Riley. Very, very much. I want to stay with you. But I’ve realized in the past few weeks that love isn’t enough. I can’t let you emotionally abuse me anymore. I won’t let you control my life. I deserve the same respect and care I give to you.”

“I respect you.”

“No, you don’t. We need to find someone to help us. We need to see a marriage counselor.”

“Is this all because you want to go to school?”

“No!” Mickelle leaned toward him. “This is about us being partners for eternity.”

The muscles in his cheek rippled as his jaw clenched. “You’re trying to make me let you go to school.”

Mickelle nearly laughed at his observation. “Make you let me go? Oh, no, Riley; I’m going to school, period. I would like your approval, but I don’t need to ask your permission. I’m not a child. If you don’t like it, you can . . .” She didn’t know exactly how to finish the sentence. All she wanted was to attend one little class, to get out of the house for a while. She might not even want to continue, but she needed a chance to find out. She needed a chance to grow without Riley constantly looking over her shoulder, threatening her.

Emitting a feral growl from the back of his throat, Riley whirled on his heel and left the room. In a moment, Mickelle heard the door to the house slam shut behind him, and seconds later the motor of his truck roared to life.

A long time passed as she lay in bed, contemplating what she would do the next day. According to the brochure, new classes began tomorrow, so she might still have time to register. But where would she come up with the tuition? Maybe it would be better to wait until June, when another session would begin. That way Riley would have time to adjust to the idea, and she would have a chance to find the money.

Mickelle fell asleep, her dilemma unresolved. She awoke once in the night when Riley returned, but he didn’t come into the bedroom. Normally she would have gone to him and tried to get him to talk about it, but this time she let him alone.

He’ll have to work it out himself,
she thought.
As for me, I’m going to begin celebrating life.

* * * * *

The next morning, Riley was sullen and wouldn’t speak to her. She purposely talked to him as though nothing had happened, but she didn’t try to draw him out of his shell or ask him to talk about his feelings as she normally did. As she made pancakes and helped the boys gather their school books, she whistled or sang. After a while, she didn’t have to force her enthusiasm; she really was happy. She was in control of her own emotions. What a wonderful feeling!

After Riley and the children left, she changed Jeremy’s wet sheets and finished cleaning the kitchen. Looking around with satisfaction, she thought fleetingly of the novels under her bed but decided to read them later. Right now she still had a lot to do. She made a few calls to the university and found she could register, but there was still the problem of money. Of course, she could just show up and sit in on a class, but that really wouldn’t be the same thing. She wanted to prove to herself that she could go back and earn good grades.

Only a little deflated, she decided to drive to her mother’s home in Provo. In the car, she sang the Primary songs she had been teaching the children in the nursery. The joy of the gospel swelled in her heart.
What a beautiful day,
she thought.

When she arrived at her parents’ home, her mother wasn’t there, so she used her spare key. The house was spotless, and everything looked so elegant that for a moment, she couldn’t help comparing it to her own shabby existence.

Then she spied the piano in the living room. She’d taken lessons for three years as a child, but the only one in their family who played well was Zack. Growing up, everyone had always considered the piano to be his. She still did, although he had a new one in his home in France.

Mickelle did a few scales, and then, almost of their own volition, her hands began to play “The Entertainer.” It had been the most difficult piece she had ever learned, and the only one she could remember completely. Her fingers were stiff, but gradually they loosened and played fewer wrong notes. At last, she played it once through without making one error.

There was clapping behind her. Mickelle arose, startled. “Mom!”

Irene smiled and walked over to the piano, giving her daughter a hug. Mickelle breathed in the perfumed scent of her short, carefully styled hair that was as white as a cloud against a deep blue sky. “That was wonderful, Mickelle. This poor old piano hasn’t had anyone playing it in a long time.” She sighed. “I remember when you and Zack used to play.”

Mickelle laughed. “Zack played. I banged.”

“No, you played. You were just impatient. Zack was more content to let a few wrong notes go by. You wanted it perfect.”

“Yeah, I was a regular little Mozart,” she returned dryly, and was rewarded by Irene’s laugh.

“Always my funny girl.” She squeezed Mickelle’s waist. “So, what brings you here this morning?” With a final embrace, Irene began walking toward the kitchen. Mickelle followed.

“Oh, I just dropped by.”

“You’re just in time to help me unload the groceries.”

They went to the garage, where Irene’s car was crammed with plastic sacks. Mickelle groaned. “Don’t tell me you’ve already been shopping for Brionney’s homecoming.”

Irene met her gaze sheepishly. “Well, yes.” Her laughter tinkled like bells reverberating from the sides of the garage. “She’ll be here before we know it. I want to be prepared.”

“All of this could feed an army.” Mickelle hefted two plastic bags full of frozen meat. “Of course, in retrospect, we’re getting to be rather an army.”

Irene picked up several more bags, her willowy figure stooping with the weight. “Let’s see. With Talia’s five, Lauren’s six, your two, and Brionney’s five, that makes eighteen grandchildren. Not bad at all. Of course, it would be more if Zack and his family were here.”

Mickelle grimaced with exertion as she set her bags on the counter. Zack’s wife was expecting baby number five—probably another boy. They seemed to run in the family. Only Brionney had more than one daughter. Mickelle stared at the meat in the sacks, remembering her own secret hope. She wished she had the money to splurge on a pregnancy test, but she’d already purchased too many over the years, only to be disappointed. This time she would wait a few weeks.

“Uh, Mom, I’ve been thinking about going back to school.”

Irene paused in the doorway. “Really? What made you decide to do that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m bored. I’m looking for something more. If we had more children, maybe it’d be—” Mickelle stopped. Suddenly she was crying.

Irene rushed to her side. “What happened? Are you all right?”

“Yes. No. Actually, Riley and I are having some trouble. His attitude since the surgery has been . . . well, he says things to me that he shouldn’t.”

“Riley?” Irene looked puzzled. “But you always tell me how great you’re doing.”

Mickelle began to sob loudly. Words tumbled out over each other as she told her mother the truth.

Irene kept shaking her head in disbelief, unshed tears glimmering in her eyes. “Why didn’t I see? How could I not know?”

“I didn’t even realize it myself,” Mickelle sniffled. “I—I’d forgotten what it’s like to be myself.” She looked at her mother pleadingly. “It’s one of the reasons I’ve got to go to school. I have to learn who I am. I’ve been Riley’s wife for so long that sometimes I don’t know how I used to feel. I don’t know what it is to be
me
.”

Irene held Mickelle, stroking her hair as she had often done when she had been very young. “I think it’s a good idea. And I’ll support you. Whether it’s money you need, or watching the kids, I’m here for you.” The tears spilled out and over her cheeks. “Oh, Mickelle, I feel so stupid. How could I not have noticed how unhappy you were?”

“Don’t blame yourself. I’m the one who let things get out of hand. I’m the one who chose to make excuses for him instead of standing up for what I believed.” After years of not understanding, it seemed so clear to Mickelle now.

Irene dabbed at her face. “I wish you had told me before.”

Mickelle laid her cheek against her mother’s. “I couldn’t. Now I can.”

“You’ll get through this,” Irene whispered. “And I want to help.”

“Thank you.”

A little self-consciously, they dried their tears and brought in the rest of the groceries. As they did, they discussed Mickelle’s options. “I want to see if the university offers financial aid or scholarships or something,” Mickelle said. “Riley . . . well, he doesn’t really want me to go, and we don’t have the money for it.”

Irene grabbed her hand. “I meant what I said about helping.”

“I know, Mom, and you don’t know what it means to me to have that option. But I want to try it my way first. If I need to, I’ll ask for help. Maybe I could even work part time at Dad’s office. You know, like Brionney did before she married Jesse.”

“The most important thing is to get Riley to counseling.”

“I know. That’s why I don’t want to rush everything else.” Mickelle looked at her mother earnestly. “I believe Riley’s a good man. He just has his own issues to deal with. It might take a while, but we’re going to be all right.”

“That’s the spirit.” Irene smiled with pride, but the sorrow in her expression was still evident. Mickelle wondered how she would feel if their positions were reversed, if Irene had been living with a man like Riley. Mickelle found she didn’t relish the idea. Her mother deserved to be cherished as she had been all these years by her father.

So do I,
she thought.

Mickelle left her mother’s home feeling decidedly happier. How good it was to have things in the open, and a confidante to share both the good and the bad. She had broken the vicious cycle of secrecy. Things would work out—somehow.