Milk Money

by Cecelia Dowdy

  Once he got into the car, he dropped his head back on the seat, groaning. “Oh, God, I feel so bad right now.” He started his car and pulled out of the lot. Forty minutes later, he pulled into a parking space at Monkton Christian Church, feeling a desperate need to meet with the alcoholic support group. He gazed at his Bible, still sitting on the passenger side of the car. Questions about God, life, and salvation filled his mind like unwanted weeds in a garden.

  After walking into the practically deserted building, he entered the meeting room for the support group. During the meeting, he spoke of Emily’s comment the previous evening and about how it had filled him with shame.

  “Why were you ashamed?” asked one of the female attendees.

  “Even though I was sober the whole time I was doing the audit, I could see myself getting to the point where I could have been drinking during the day.” He went on to say that since he’d started drinking after his wife died, he noticed the amount of alcohol he consumed nightly had increased. “I’ve been waking up with bad headaches; sometimes I vomit.”

  Once the rest of the attendees had sprinkled in their words of wisdom and told of their weekly trials, Devon invited everybody to stand and join hands as they closed with a prayer. When the meeting was over, Frank pulled Devon aside. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” said Frank.

  Devon invited him to return to his seat. “You look upset,” Devon observed. His wise, kind eyes bored into Frank.

  “My addiction is really starting to bother me.”

  “I know it is. You’re feeling guilty right now. I can tell.” Devon’s voice softened. “You know what you need to do. You need to surrender yourself to God.”

  “But that’s so hard to do! My wife surrendered her life to God, but now she’s dead.”

  “Her body is dead, but her spirit lives on. She’s with Jesus right now, and you need to stop focusing on earthly life so much.” He looked at Frank for a few seconds. “You know, Frank, I never did tell you my testimony. There’s so much about me that I haven’t had the chance to tell you yet.” He checked his watch. “Are you in a hurry to leave?”

  Frank dreaded the return to his empty apartment where thoughts of drinking continued to consume him. “No, I’m in no hurry.”

  They sat back down, and Devon began his testimony. “I grew up in a home where alcohol flowed like water.”

  Frank frowned. “Do you mean both of your parents drank?”

  Devon nodded. “My brother and I knew how wine and beer tasted before we even started kindergarten.”

  Frank gasped, shocked. “Your parents gave you booze?”

  “No, they didn’t give it to us directly. They were just irresponsible about how they left it around the house. My brother and I could get into the alcohol and drink it. We hated the taste but discovered we could water it down and drink it. It made us feel grown up.”

  “Your parents never knew what you did?”

  “Since both of my parents drank so frequently, they didn’t realize what was happening. Steve—that’s my brother—and I grew up thinking it was okay to drink and get sloshed. Although our father was an alcoholic, he was always quoting scripture, saying Jesus died for our sins and that it was okay that he was getting drunk every night because God had already forgiven him for that. Steve and I grew up with the philosophy that we could do what we wanted as far as drinking was concerned because it was what we’d been hearing all our lives.”

  “So what changed your mind?” Frank asked.

  “Steve and I were in the car with our father, and he was very drunk. He almost fell asleep at the wheel, and the car swerved into a ditch.” He looked at the wall for a few seconds. “None of us were hurt, but at that point, I could see my dad’s philosophy about being drunk was skewed. However, I was almost sixteen, and I was used to drinking whenever I wanted.”

  “Did your father continue drinking after the accident?”

  “Not right away. He sobered up for a month or so, but before long, he was hitting the bottle as hard as ever. My mother’s drinking was just as bad, and as I got ready to graduate from high school, I found that I wasn’t happy unless I was drinking. From the type of household I was raised in, I thought the way I felt and handled things was normal. What really made me change my life was when my brother died from a drunk driving accident.” He wiped his eyes. “Losing my brother was the hardest thing I’d ever been through, and his death spurred me to look at myself emotionally and spiritually.”

  “What did you do?” asked Frank.

  “Although I’d been raised by a father who quoted scripture all the time, I realized that I’d never really studied the Bible for myself, word for word, to see what God really said we should do to live a life that was pleasing to Him. I was twenty years old at the time, and I searched around until I found a small church where I felt comfortable. I began studying the scriptures with other believers until I finally proclaimed Christ as my Savior. My father died of liver disease because of his heavy drinking when I was twenty-five, but he’d learned to control his drinking after Steve died. My mom, dad, and I all found the Lord after Steve’s death, and I make sure when I convince people to accept Christ that they hear about what I went through as I searched for the Lord.”

  Devon’s testimony sank deeply into Frank’s heart, and he still thought about Devon Crandall’s words as he drove home that night.

  ten

  The following Saturday, Frank opened his eyes, blinking and feeling lousy. He swallowed, thinking about his tormented night. Emily’s accusation still felt like a punch in the gut. He’d actually made it through the day without a drink, and he’d been on the phone with Devon last night for a whole hour. The urge for a drink consumed him, and he shuffled over to the coffee pot, making a large pot of the steaming brew. He sipped the coffee, recalling Devon’s advice. “Son, you need to accept the Lord. Fall down on your knees and accept Him. Surrender your life to Him. That’s the only way you can give up the drink.”

  The ringing telephone interrupted his musings, and he jumped. Groaning, he picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Frank? It’s Emily.” Her smooth, sweet voice reminded him of silk. He relished the pleasure of hearing her speak.

  “Emily? I’m surprised you called.”

  “I wanted to apologize for what happened the other day. I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”

  He tried to think of the right words to say. The hurt from her accusation had pierced through him like a lightning bolt; still, he knew she was justified in her assumption, even though it was wrong. Finally, he spoke. “I … can I see you sometime today? I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “You haven’t had anything to drink today, have you? I don’t want you to drive over here if you’ve been drinking. I know you’re trying to quit …”

  “It’s hard to stop completely.”

  She sighed. “That’s what I’ve heard. That’s why I want to make sure you’re okay. I just don’t want you driving over here if you’re drinking. I worry about you, Frank.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me. Remember I told you that I only drink at night after I get home,” he reminded her.

  They agreed to meet for dinner, and Emily offered to meet Frank in Baltimore, but he refused, telling her that he would pick her up.

  Darren showed up for work that evening, so after they milked the cows and fed them, she strolled toward the house as the conversation she’d had with Frank that morning still played in her mind. After removing her barn boots, she entered her home and went upstairs to take a long, hot shower, still contemplating the fate of her farm. After showering, she sprayed perfume over her skin before pulling her hair back into a ponytail. Sporting faded jeans and a large red T-shirt, she was more than ready to meet with Frank to discuss her farm.

  The crunch of gravel signaled the approach of Frank’s car. Emily bounded down the stairs and exited the house into the humid night. The sun was just beginning to set, and the
sky was pink and bright orange. Her heart skipped a beat when he touched her arm.

  “It’s nice to see you again,” he said.

  She nodded. “It’s good to see you, too.”

  They were soon in his Lexus, taking the forty-minute drive toward downtown Baltimore. While driving, he told her about his recent conversations with Mark and how Trish still worried about the boy’s erratic behavior. “I just wish his father would take a more active role in his life,” he said. Emily was touched that Frank was so worried about his nephew. He spoke about it so frequently that he almost seemed like a father instead of an uncle.

  “Do you mind if we go to the M & S Grill?” he asked when they arrived in Baltimore.

  “I don’t mind.”

  They entered the spacious restaurant, and she wondered why Frank had brought his briefcase with him. Their server approached. “We’d like an outside table,” Frank informed her.

  They ordered sodas when they were seated, and before the server could leave, Frank asked Emily a question. “Do you mind if I order for both of us?”

  Food was the last thing on her mind. “I don’t mind.”

  He ordered the flounder stuffed with crab imperial for both of them. “I’ve been doing a lot of eating out since I’ve been here. They make the best stuffed flounder.”

  His leg jiggled, and she touched his hand. “Are you okay?”

  He sighed, looking toward the water. Boats bobbed in the hot breeze, and if there weren’t so many issues between them, Emily could imagine having a pleasant time with Frank this evening.

  His dark, mesmerizing eyes looked tortured. “No, I’m not okay. I need a drink.”

  She took a deep breath before voicing her next question. “Have you stopped drinking?”

  “Sort of.”

  She frowned, still touching his hand. “What do you mean?” He told her how he’d stopped but then gotten intoxicated a few nights ago.

  “Have you had a drink since?”

  “No.”

  “Well, that’s good then. You’re on the right track.” She tried to remain positive. Groups of teenagers strolled down the sidewalk, laughing as they passed on the busy pavement. “Has Devon Crandall been helping you?”

  “Yes, I’ve been speaking to Devon over the last few weeks. He’s a nice guy. He’s caring.”

  “Yes, Devon’s been through a lot. Did he share his testimony with you?”

  “Yes, but he says I need to accept Christ if I want to find the strength to quit drinking completely.”

  “He’s right. You’ve got to give God a chance.” He ran his fingers over his short hair. “I know what your problem is.” He remained silent. “You just like having complete control over your life.”

  Shock etched his face. “Yeah, so what?”

  She shook her head. “But you’re not controlling your life. The alcohol is.” He winced, looking away. She squeezed his hand. “Frank, you can’t control your life. You’ve got to let God help you.”

  They silently sipped their drinks for a few seconds before she gestured toward his briefcase. “Why did you bring that?”

  Sighing, he removed a thick stack of cream-colored paper. “Emily, here’s what I wanted to discuss with you.”

  He went through former tax returns and worksheets, explaining things to Emily. “Bottom line, you owe the IRS this amount of money.” He pointed to a large figure on the paper.

  Emily gasped. Their flounder arrived, but she had lost her appetite. The server left their food at the side of the table since they were still looking through Frank’s papers. “Does this mean that if Laura and I don’t pay this back, we’ll lose the farm?”

  Frank slowly nodded. “You could lose your farm.” He quickly squeezed her hand. “But, there are ways to get around this that might work.”

  Emily blinked, still trying to drink in all the information. “Like what?”

  He opened his napkin, avoiding her intense gaze. “I’ve already contacted the IRS—”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You already reported my father?”

  Grabbing her hand, he rubbed her palm, and her anger disappeared like a calm sea after a raging storm. “You know I wouldn’t report your father to the IRS without clearing it with you or Laura first.” He sighed, still holding her hand. “I just contacted them, without giving any personal information, and asked how I could advise a client about their situation. I didn’t give the name of you or your family.” He looked at her directly. “You could possibly get a bank loan, but I doubt it since your father already has that farm mortgaged to the brim.”

  Emily continued to stare at Frank. “Do you have any other suggestions?”

  Frank released her hand. Without answering her question, he pulled their plates from the side of the table, placing one in front of Emily and one in front of himself. He took a large bite of his flounder. She wondered how he could eat at a time like this and why he wouldn’t answer her question.

  She looked at her plate. The delicate white fish made her stomach churn. Taking her fork, she took a small bite.

  Frank sipped his Coke. “Emily, I don’t know how you feel about this.”

  “About what?” She put her fork aside, giving him her full attention.

  “Well, I could give you the resources so your farm won’t be confiscated.”

  She gasped. “I can’t accept that kind of money from you.”

  He took another sip of Coke. “It could be a loan.”

  Gritting her teeth, she gazed toward the Chesapeake Bay. “I don’t know if we could pay you back.”

  “Don’t worry about that yet. I just want to do what I can so that you won’t lose your farm.” She stared at his bent head as he ate.

  “Why would you do this for me?”

  He didn’t respond, and she wondered why he refused to look at her.

  “Frank?” She placed her hand over his arm, forcing him to stop eating his meal.

  “I … I just want to do this.”

  She looked at the patrons at the surrounding tables eating their evening meals, still trying to comprehend. “But I still don’t understand …”

  “I just want to help out a friend. What’s wrong with that?”

  She gazed at him, still trying to decipher his actions. She was unsure of what to say. Her deep feelings for Frank rushed through her, but she knew that if she was indebted to him, it would make their situation sticky. She pushed the papers toward him. “I can’t talk about this anymore.”

  Once Frank dropped her off, Emily’s mind was spinning. She’d called Laura, but she was in the midst of serving dinner to Becky’s family, and there was chaos in the background. “Mom, call me back later tonight when you get a chance. It’s okay if you wake me up.” Since there was a three-hour time difference, Emily didn’t want Laura to hesitate about calling her if she thought she was going to wake her.

  She sat on the couch in the dark living room and didn’t realize she’d fallen asleep until the phone awakened her. She lifted the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Hey, Emily. It’s Kelly.”

  “And Christine. Kelly has us on three-way.”

  “Hi, guys.” Emily cleared her throat, still trying to clear her sleep-clogged brain.

  “You sound like you’re asleep,” said Christine.

  “Why are you all calling me on three-way?”

  Christine responded, “Kelly wanted to tell us about her date.”

  “Emily, Antoine is the greatest!” said Kelly. “He is?” asked Emily.

  “Yeah, and you know I only met him a few weeks ago.”

  Emily nodded. “I remember you mentioning that. You said he’s a new member of the choir.”

  “Well, he picked me up and gave me flowers!” She giggled. “And he took me to that fancy restaurant downtown!” She continued to gush about her date, not giving them a chance to respond. “He’s so cute! He’s got those light brown eyes and full lips that were made for kissing! We talked constantly through the meal, and when he dro
pped me off, he kissed my cheek, and he wanted to know when we could see each other again!”

  Emily smiled. “I can tell you want to see him again.”

  Christine interjected. “You know she does. That’s why she’s calling us on three-way—so she can tell both of us about this wonderful man!”

  “You guys, of course I want to see him again! Emily, it’s been such a long time since I’ve dated anybody! I don’t count Martin as dating since I only saw him twice.”

  “What happened with Martin, anyway? You never did tell us,” said Emily.

  Kelly groaned. “Well, I don’t want to spoil a good evening talking about Martin.”

  Christine spoke. “Well, you should at least tell us what happened. You used to talk about him all the time, and then when you stopped seeing him, you wouldn’t tell us why.”

  Kelly was silent for a few seconds before she spoke. “Well, when I was talking to Martin, we were talking about Christianity and faith. He blatantly asked me about, well, you know, having sex with him even though I was a Christian. He said that he was a Christian and his belief in God didn’t stop him from doing what he wanted. That’s when I decided I couldn’t see him again. He said that I wasn’t open-minded enough to date him, so that was the end of that.”

  All three women were silent for a few seconds before Emily spoke. “Well, you did the right thing, Kelly.”

  Christine sighed. “I’m beginning to wonder if any eligible men exist around here.”

  Kelly stated her opinion. “You never know. I guess we should just trust God and not worry about this so much.”