Shannon's Hope

by Josi S. Kilpack

  I turned toward the garage as soon as the words hit their mark, and I closed the door behind me before resting my back against it. Was it only two months ago that John had dipped me into a kiss in the kitchen? Was it only six weeks ago that I’d watched him snuggle with his children on the couch and thought how ideal everything was? How could things have shifted so quickly? How could I have been so wrong about him? But even as I thought it, I knew I wasn’t being fair. I didn’t believe the accusations John had thrown at me, but I knew something was blocking my clarity, just as something was blocking his. I wished I knew how either of us could overcome it, but I feared it would take my abandoning Keisha to find out. I was not willing to do that. She was gone from my home, which meant I couldn’t help her the way I wanted to, and John was right about needing to protect Landon from her choices, but I could take her to meetings. I could remind her she was loved. Would that be too much for John to handle? Would he see me as the enemy?

  Tears came to my eyes. I loved John, and I loved our life together. Surely this was a hard road for us, but I couldn’t help thinking that if Keisha could do better, if she could get clean and prove herself, then it would validate everything I had done. Love was always the answer. I needed to show John that while still taking full responsibility for having lied so often in the past that he no longer trusted my actions.

  Chapter 33

  John and Landon were at his parents’ house when I came back from work on Saturday. Finding Detective Pierce’s card had made me forget to pack Keisha’s things before work, but I’d promised her I would bring them the next day. I’d picked her up a month-to-month cell phone in my name, though, so she could reach me when she needed to. Having John and Landon gone provided the perfect opportunity for me to pack her things, even if it broke my heart to clear the room of everything that belonged to her.

  I put two big suitcases full of her things into my car so that I could take them to her tomorrow; then I put her sheets in the washer and moved the furniture around so it wouldn’t look like her room anymore. It was what John wanted, but I secretly hoped he would feel something when he saw how completely she’d been removed from our home. What I hadn’t expected was that her room would become John’s room. Without saying a word about it, he got ready for bed once they got home and then fell asleep on her bed. I slept alone.

  I worked a ten-hour shift at Fountain Valley the next day. I was falling behind in my management duties and was determined to be caught up by the end of the week. Afterward, I drove to Keisha’s hotel and dropped off her things. She was shaky and irritable, but we got dinner at a café across the street. They had a Now Hiring sign in the window, and she promised me she’d apply tomorrow—she was too tired tonight. The whole time I was with her I was looking around for cops. John said there was a warrant for her arrest, and it was only a matter of time before they’d catch up with her. We parted with a hug at the door of her hotel. I paid for two more days and then headed home to my other family, wondering what would happen next.

  Not much happened over the course of the next week. John continued sleeping in Keisha’s old room, but he was polite when the two of us were together. Landon was more like his old self, but he was obviously struggling with making sense of what was happening, and while I was trying to be more involved and attentive, I could sense it wasn’t enough. Sometimes I found myself wishing John and I would fight again. The strained politeness was horrible.

  I saw Keisha every couple of days and moved her to a pay-by-the-week motel a couple blocks away from the Super 8 but that was still close to the daily NA meetings she was attending. I went with her when I could.

  John’s mother called to invite us to Easter dinner at their house on Sunday—how had I not noticed it approaching? I went shopping after work and bought all kinds of candy and goodies for the traditional hunt we would have in their backyard. I pulled out the Easter baskets, and John looked at Keisha’s pink-and-brown basket a little longer than necessary. We didn’t talk about it. I tried to talk her into coming to Easter dinner, but she wouldn’t even consider it.

  If any of John’s family noticed the tension between us, they didn’t say anything. I took Keisha her basket after work the next day. She gave me a big hug and thanked me for not forgetting her. I headed home in tears. I would never forget her. I would never give up.

  I got home at six thirty, and John left for lacrosse practice at seven o’clock, giving me an unexpected kiss on his way out the door with Landon. He seemed to be offering just enough attention to remind me he was there when I felt ready, though it was hard to imagine I would ever feel ready to do anything other than what I was doing. Things were so muggy in my head I didn’t know what to make of it. He hadn’t told the police where Keisha was, which confused me, but mostly I felt desperate to figure something out before the warrants caught up with her or John gave her up.

  At seven fifteen, the doorbell rang, and I looked up from my dinner—leftover chicken and broccoli casserole—and contemplated not answering it. I was so tired. After another bite, though, I pushed away from the table, hurrying to the door to make up for my not having answered it right away.

  I pulled the door open with a polite smile, which slipped when Aunt Ruby smiled back at me, equally polite, though her smile didn’t fall. She was dressed in peach, but the cheery color didn’t improve my mood. I had no energy for this right now, and yet, it was Aunt Ruby. I looked at her feet, trying to think of what to say. She’d called me twice over the last few weeks, but I hadn’t been able to bring myself to return the calls. I felt so bad for the situation that had put us on opposite teams, and yet looking at her on my doorstep had me questioning whether I could ever really see her as an enemy.

  “Full disclosure,” Aunt Ruby said to start. “John called and told me you were home. I didn’t ask him to do it, but, well, you chose a good man, and he doesn’t want this to continue to hang between us.”

  I looked up at her and said in all truthfulness, “I didn’t know what to say.”

  Aunt Ruby nodded, her dangly earrings bobbing as she did so. “I don’t know what to say either, except that I don’t want this to ruin our relationship. You’re the closest family I have, geographically and friendship-wise, and I don’t want to lose that.”

  “I don’t either,” I said, wondering if maybe we could just talk about us and not say anything about Keisha. No such luck.

  “Then you’re going to need to forgive me for filing that report,” she said, diving straight to the heart of things.

  I hadn’t thought about needing to forgive her because that seemed ridiculous, and yet if I were truly honest with myself, I was angry with her. I felt betrayed.

  Aunt Ruby continued before I could defend myself; she was rather aggressive tonight. “And I need to forgive you for not telling me the truth. It should have been you, not John, who talked to me about it.”

  “I know,” I said with a nod. “And I’m sorry about that, but—”

  “You can’t amend an apology,” Aunt Ruby cut in. “As soon as you say ‘but,’ you’re not really sorry.” She paused, smiled again, and when she spoke her voice was softer. “Can we just talk about this? Lay it on the table so that we can put it away?”

  “Yes,” I said, wanting things to be okay between us even though I knew it would be hard to get to that place. I backed up and held the door open. “Will you come in?”

  Aunt Ruby let out a sigh. “I thought you’d never ask.” She swished past me and into the living room, where she sat on the couch while I took the love seat.

  “I am sorry,” I said once we were settled. “It wasn’t that I wasn’t going to tell you; I was just trying to figure out the right way.”

  “And I can understand that,” Aunt Ruby said, smiling again. “But we’re family, Shannon, and I love you. You could have told me any way it came out; I wouldn’t have been angry.”

  “You pressed charges,” I said before thinking it through all the way; it sounded snappy.

 
“John asked me to.” She stopped herself and put up her hand. “But I’m not blaming him for it. I agree it was the right thing to do. Keisha’s troubles run deeper than I thought. I hope this will help her get better.”

  Familiar anger zinged through me. “Going to jail isn’t going to help her,” I said, that snap still attached to my words. I took a breath and tried to even out my tone. “She’ll be locked up with the very worst people out there, and she’ll have a criminal record for the rest of her life. John’s wrong to think this is the right solution.”

  “Are you sure about that, dear?” Aunt Ruby asked, cocking her head to the side. “She did steal from me. That’s a crime I hope she never repeats. Getting away with it would only make it more likely that she’ll do it again.”

  I was shaking my head before she finished and went on to give her the same argument I had given John, about how Keisha needed to get help for her depression and that what she needed from the people who loved her was understanding and support, not criticism, condemnation, and prejudice that, if she were arrested, would follow her forever. “I’m frustrated that no one seems to see the effort I’m putting into helping her. Maybe if I’d had some support, things would have turned out differently, but it feels like everyone’s against her now, like she can just be written off.”

  “Shannon, honey, I’m sorry you feel that I’m working against you. That wasn’t my intent. But I’m also just recently coming to terms with some hard truths in my life and realizing that pretending things are different doesn’t change them. It’s admirable that you want so much good for Keisha, but pretending she isn’t responsible for her choices doesn’t change the fact that she is. I don’t hate her, and I don’t love you less for what’s happened and that you didn’t tell me sooner, but I think John is right—you aren’t seeing this correctly, and sparing Keisha from the consequences will help no one.”

  Aunt Ruby’s allusion to Uncle Phillip poked holes in my defensiveness, and I looked up at her in surprise, trying to think of how I could ask where she was with all of that. It was a different topic entirely, but the correlation she’d made between Uncle Phillip and Keisha was uncomfortably reasonable. Pretending Uncle Phillip wasn’t unfaithful hadn’t changed the fact that he was, and the illusion Ruby had tried to create about her life being just right hadn’t worked either. I wanted to bring up Keisha’s mental health concerns again and my continued belief that the drugs were a form of self-medication and that if we could fix the disease behind her using, she could be better. But regardless of the cause, she was making horrible and devastating choices. And she wasn’t getting better. No matter what I did.

  Aunt Ruby must have seen the growing understanding in my eyes. She smiled again, but there was sadness there. “I’ve done so much soul searching these last weeks that my soul feels in need of new stitching around the edges, but the other night I had a thought that’s made me very uncomfortable ever since.” She paused, and I waited expectantly as she looked at her purse in her lap and straightened the strap between her fingers. “I wonder what would have happened if I’d confronted Phillip when I found out about the first affair.” She looked up at me. “Instead I waited until after number two—Lisa—when I was beyond reconciliation in my heart. I’d held so much anger and hurt inside all through his first affair. And because I waited to confront him, waited until he’d gone even deeper down the path, I think it made our relationship impossible to reconcile. A woman might be able to forgive her husband one indiscretion, but two? I have to wonder what would have happened if, right after discovering those long distance phone bills, I’d served him his dinner, looked him right in the eye, and said, ‘Are you being unfaithful to me?’”

  She paused and took a deep breath. “Perhaps he’d have lied to me, I’d have believed it, and we’d have carried on like we did. But maybe he would have realized it hurt me and stopped. And there wouldn’t have been all those women who followed.

  “Or maybe he’d have made a choice between her and me. It would have been difficult for me if he chose her, but maybe I’d have found a different partner. If he’d stayed with me, then maybe we would have been better. Maybe I’d have ended up with a happy marriage, or at least a comfortable life as a divorcee.” She shrugged and straightened the strap again.

  “As it was, when I did blow up at him after affair number two, we were both too far down the path. I chose to suffer in silence and slowly grew to hate him because he was getting away with something horrible, and I was essentially allowing it so that I could keep the family together and both parents in the home for Tony. I was so afraid of Tony having to live in a broken home, being shuttled between parents, seeing his dad date other women . . . Despite everything I had to put up with, staying with Phillip was security. I was afraid of what our friends would say, what our neighbors would think, what my life would be like as a single mother. I didn’t want to lose the security that Phillip provided.”

  She looked at me again and her gaze was intent. “Keisha isn’t Phillip, and I know the situation is very different, but I hope you’re not doing all this protecting because you’re simply afraid of losing whatever security she gives to you. Fear is no way to live.”

  Any argument I may have had shriveled up and died in the glimmer of Aunt Ruby’s enlightenment. I don’t even remember the rest of the conversation, only that I promised to start reading the next book for book group. I didn’t even try to get information about Gabriel from her. After a good-bye hug on the doorstep, she told me she loved me, and I said I loved her too.

  I busied myself with household chores until the boys came home, then took over bedtime, working extra hard to tune into Landon, who seemed to bask in my attention. After he was in bed, I found John in the garage, regluing one of the rungs on a bar stool from the kitchen. He looked up in surprise when I leaned against the workbench.

  “So, Aunt Ruby came over,” I said, watching the guilt jump into his eyes. It was there only a moment, though, before conviction took its place. He knew I knew he’d told Aunt Ruby to come. And he didn’t regret having called her.

  “How did things go?”

  “Do you think I’m helping Keisha because I’m afraid?”

  “Afraid of what?” John asked, wiggling the rung a little before attaching the clamp to hold it in place.

  “Afraid of losing her.”

  “Yes.”

  His answer was so fast it startled me. If that were true, then I wasn’t helping because it helped her, I was helping because it helped me. I hated looking at it like that. Hated it.

  John put a hand on my arm—it was the first time he’d touched me in more than a week—and when I looked up, he held my eyes for a few seconds. “You love Keisha,” he said quietly. Tears sprang to my eyes. I did love her, so much. “From day one, you have wanted to include her and have a relationship with her and love her like a daughter. It’s been a beautiful thing to watch. As her life has fallen apart, you’ve wanted to be that rock she can hang on to in the storms, and you have been that person. I have no doubt that the intentions of your heart are good and pure and based on love.”

  Tears overflowed, and I wiped at them quickly, as though John hadn’t already noticed.

  “But, Shan,” he continued, and I braced myself, “your love can’t fix her. My love can’t fix her. Dani and Landon and Ruby’s love can’t fix her. You’re afraid of losing her, and that’s a valid fear. It terrifies me too, but she’s using that fear against you, against all of us. She is so tightly connected to the drugs right now that she can’t help but be manipulative, and she is squeezing every drop out of how much you care about her. She wants you to think that if you draw a line, you’ll lose her because if you believe that, you won’t draw a line, and she will be able to continue as she is right now.”

  “But . . .” I had to pause and take a breath, for courage as much as for oxygen. “Her depression,” I said, begged really. “If she could just—”

  “I know,” he said, sounding compassionate but al
so tired. “If she could just get well. And if the economy hadn’t crashed and made things hard for us you wouldn’t have so much pressure on you, and if Landon weren’t growing up so fast you wouldn’t be worried about an empty nest. But there has to be a point where Keisha is responsible for Keisha and we aren’t all dragged through the mud she keeps churning up. I want her to be well too, but she doesn’t, and we can’t force her to be different. If love were enough, she’d be well. If good intentions were enough, we could fix her. But that isn’t reality. It’s not giving up on her to say you won’t suffer with her anymore.”

  “Oh, John,” I said, dropping my chin to my chest and shaking my head as, for the first time, I allowed myself to consider letting go of Keisha. “It feels so wrong. What if I let her go and she never comes back? What if she only gets worse? What if she overdoses and dies alone somewhere?”

  “It would be excruciating,” he whispered after waiting for me to look up and meet his eyes that were misty with unshed tears. “I can’t imagine it, but if we’re not helping her get well, we’re not really helping her at all. Somehow we have to come to a place of peace with the good we’ve done. But it’s not okay that I’m not talking to her at all, or that you’re putting her ahead of Landon and me. It’s not right. Her choices are changing all our lives, and not for the better.”

  “I don’t know how to do that,” I whispered. I tried to imagine not talking to her every day. Those four days when I couldn’t communicate with her after she left our house were horrendous. The idea of not knowing where she was or who she was with made me dizzy.

  “I don’t know how to do it either,” John said. “Maybe we can find someone to help us figure out how to do it.”

  I rolled that around in my brain for a few seconds before looking up at him. “Counseling?”