Cracks in the Sidewalk (7 page)

She looked at her father. “Can’t you just give JT the loan he needs?”

“I’ve already given him several loans, Liz. If he needs more, why doesn’t he ask his parents?”

“He already asked them, but they said no. They spent most of their savings to buy that place in Florida.”

“Did JT put you up to this?” Charlie asked. “I know him; he’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants. JT told you to ask me, didn’t he?”

“Not specifically,” Elizabeth replied. “But I know he’s behind on our mortgage payments and worried about all the bills.”

“When he finished complaining about his problems,” Charlie said sarcastically, “did he have anything else to say?”

“Not much; you know JT.” Elizabeth shrugged with her right shoulder.

Charlie shook his head in disgust. “It’s high time he started remembering what’s important.”

“His store
is
important,” Elizabeth said defensively. 

“Nothing is as important as a man’s family!” Charlie’s words had an unusually sharp tone. “I have no respect for someone who values money more than his wife. Jeffrey’s a poor excuse for a man!”

“Daddy, that’s an awful thing to say.”

“No, it’s not. I know he’s your husband, but he’s using you to get to me. I’ll bet he said if I give him the loan, you can come home. Right? That’s what he said, wasn’t it?”

A tear fell from Elizabeth’s right eye.

“I knew it. That’s the kind of man he is.” Charlie’s voice suddenly got louder and angrier. “Well, no more. I wouldn’t give him a dime if he were standing on the corner with a tin cup. He’s a bum, a good-for-nothing bum!”

“Charlie,” Claire interrupted, “stop yelling at Elizabeth.”

“I’m not yelling!” Charlie shouted. “But I’m not going to allow that bum to mistreat my daughter! I will see him bankrupt before I give him one cent of financing for that travesty he calls a business.”

After that, no one talked about JT or the reason for Elizabeth not returning to her own house.

Charlie eventually left for the office, and Claire once again began plumping the pillows and straightening blankets.

“I know you’re disappointed,” she said. “But try not to let it get to you. Sooner or later JT will figure this out by himself.”

“I hope so,” Elizabeth said. “I surely hope so.”

“He will. In the meantime Daddy and I will take care of you, and you won’t have to contend with his grouchiness.”

Elizabeth only could manage a fragile smile

A week later, on the same day Elizabeth left St. Barnabas to return to her parents’ house, Christian was also released from the hospital. JT carried him home and handed him to Maria Ramirez, along with David and Kimberly. From that point on, he stopped calling Elizabeth altogether. She telephoned him countless number of times to ask if he’d bring the children but his answer stayed the same.

“Too busy,” he’d say. “I’m taking care of three kids and trying to run a business.”

“If you can’t come, let the kids come,” Elizabeth begged. “Mom will pick them up and bring them home.”

“No way.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

Elizabeth noticed that each time they spoke his voice sounded sharper, his resentment more pronounced. Claire knew when those conversations took place because for the remainder of the day and sometimes for days following, Elizabeth was red-eyed and locked within herself. To cheer her, Claire would ask, “Would you like a cup of tea? We can watch
How the World Turns.
”

“No, thanks,” Elizabeth would answer gloomily. “I already know how the world turns.”

Claire, who at times could become emotional over a broken teacup, stood firm as a rock. Never once did she reveal the agony inside her. Instead, she forced herself to be cheerful. To pull happy thoughts from the air and hand them to Elizabeth. In return, she got a fractured smile, halfhearted at best. Claire knew nothing could restore the magical laugh Elizabeth once had, but still she tried.

Without her children and Jeffrey’s arms to hold her, Elizabeth’s pain increased. She woke thinking of them. Fell asleep with them on her mind. Maybe constantly asking that he come for a visit drove him away. But how could she not? For the past eight years they stood side-by-side, weathered storms, endured hardships, shared joys. How could she give up trying to resurrect such a relationship? True, JT had moods. He could be difficult, even impossible at times, but without him she felt like half of her old self.

The worst happened when the discussion turned to blame. In those conversations the realization that JT no longer loved her hit Elizabeth head on. Regardless of how much she had given, regardless of how much she still had to give, he no longer loved her.

“Please come over,” she said, “even if it’s only for a little while. I really miss you and the kids.”

“Let’s not go through this again.”

“Don’t talk like that. I don’t like this situation either. I know it’s hard on you. It’s hard on me too.”

“I doubt that!”

“Well, it is. At least you’ve got your health and the kids—”

“And you’ve got Daddy-Big-Bucks,” he snapped. “This whole situation is his fault—”

“Stop it!” she said. “Stop acting like Daddy is to blame for your financial problems. He’s not. He’s no more to blame for your problems than I’m to blame for getting sick. It happened, that’s all there is to it! Let’s stop arguing about who’s to blame and get back to loving each other.”

“Screw you!” Jeffrey said and slammed the receiver down so hard it left a ringing in her ear.

That afternoon, for the first time, Elizabeth shared her pain with her mother.

“I don’t understand how it can end this way,” she sobbed. “How he can stop loving me just because I’m sick. What about our kids? What about all the things—” She fell into her mother’s arms and wept like a child. “It’s unfair, so unfair…”

“Yes, it is,” Claire said. “But Jeffrey’s the one to be pitied. He’s got a cancer far worse than yours. His eats the soul and lets the body walk around more dead than alive.”

She put her hand beneath Elizabeth’s chin and tilted her face upward. “Try to understand, Jeffrey’s not mad at you. He’s mad at himself. He looks in the mirror and sees a man who’s failed at life. He can’t do anything about those failures, so he gets angry and smashes the mirror.”

“But,” Elizabeth sobbed, “I still love him.”

O
n the second Tuesday in September Claire took Elizabeth to Sloan Kettering for a consultation. That same afternoon JT visited Charlie at his office, asking again for a loan and upping the ante to twenty-five thousand.

“No,” Charlie said flatly without apologies or explanation.

“No?” JT repeated with a slit-eyed expression. “No?”

“That’s right, no.”

“Didn’t Liz talk to you? Didn’t she explain? I gotta have that money to keep going. How am I supposed to support my family if the store goes bankrupt?”

“That’s not my problem,” Charlie answered. “I imagine you’ll have to get a job like most other men.”

“A job doing what? I’m a retailer. Women’s clothing, that’s what I know. I’m no good at anything else.”

Without lifting his eyes from the ledger sheet in front of him, Charlie said, “Well, since your store is about to go under, you’re probably not very good at retailing either. Maybe it’s time to consider a change.”

JT slammed his hand on the desk. “I need that money! It’s not just the store, I’ve got bills! I can’t pay the mortgage, how am I supposed to pay for food, gas, electricity, and a babysitter for those three kids? You got any idea how much babysitters cost?”

“Liz has been begging to see her kids. Bring them to our house, and Claire will watch them for free.”

“If Liz gets the kids during the day, will I get the loan?”

“No.”

“I’ve got more than babysitting bills! What about all the other things, food, gas, electricity? What am I supposed to do about those?”

Charlie’s sympathy was long gone. Although he never mentioned it, he knew of the telephone conversations that left Elizabeth in tears.

“As I suggested,” he said icily, “get a job.” He handed the classified section of the
Newark Star Ledger
to Jeffrey. “This should help.”

JT whacked the paper aside. “Don’t push me.”

“Or what?” Charlie said. “What can you do?”

JT didn’t answer. He whirled on his heel and stormed out of Charlie’s office, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. As he crossed through the outer lobby of the bank he muttered loudly, “You’ll find out what, old man! I’ll fix you and your whole damned family! Just wait!”

Elizabeth Caruthers

S
ome days I hate Jeffrey. Other days I realize I’m still in love with him; then I hate myself. I want to stop thinking about him, but I can’t. Forgetful as I’ve become, why can’t I forget him for even a minute? In the darkest part of the night, when everyone else is sleeping, I lie here remembering his warm breath in my ear, the weight of his body circling me like a protective shell. I can picture mornings when the kids climbed in bed with us and wriggled around until we looked like a spaghetti bowl of arms and legs. Memories like that are so painful, I almost convince myself that it would be a blessing to drift into that black hole and remain there. In the light of day I can think more rationally and then I accept that those memories are what I have to hold on to, if I’m to keep my sanity and make it through this.

Jeffrey wasn’t always this way. At one time our life together was absolutely wonderful. Things began to change about a year after he bought the store. At first he’d come home bubbling with enthusiasm. All through dinner he’d talk about how great business was, how he was gonna upgrade his merchandise and expand the store, how he’d change the look of Westfield.

Failure, that’s what changed Jeffrey. He’s always expected everything to be storybook perfect, even people, and especially himself. After all that pursuit of perfection, look where we are now. Both of us are broken—his spirit, my body.

Mom’s right when she says JT hates himself. He hates himself and me too, because neither of us are what we once were. I understand his anger, but that doesn’t make it any less painful.

The problem is Jeffrey can never settle; he always wants more. He wanted a store that would make him the envy of all the merchants in Westfield. Instead of trying to have more than everybody else, I wish he could’ve seen we already had everything that mattered. Try telling that to JT, and he’d think you were ninety-nine cents short of a dollar.

He’s not one to take suggestions from anybody. Daddy tried to tell him he was getting in over his head, but he said Daddy had a negative attitude. JT developed this nasty streak when the business didn’t pan out.

There’s only one thing JT hates more than being wrong, and that’s Daddy being right. One time I suggested maybe he should have listened to Daddy’s warning, and JT nearly went ballistic. At that point I backed off and started giving him some space. I figured he’d calm down once the expansion was finished and business picked up again. Besides, with two kids I had more than enough to keep me busy.

Before we were married Jeffrey said he felt just as I did about having a large family, so I thought he’d be glad we were expecting a third child. I thought maybe it would take his mind off of his business problems, but it was just the opposite. He said we had trouble enough and didn’t need any more babies. I’ve always felt children were a blessing. Until you hold your baby in your arms, you can’t begin to imagine the size of the love inside of you. 

When I was ten, maybe eleven, I had two best friends, Jeanne and Emily. Jeanne wanted to be an actress, Emily a model. “How about you, Liz?” they’d ask. “What do you want to be?”

“A mother.” That’s what I’d say, every single time. While Jeanne and Emily were busy reading movie magazines, I’d be down the block watching Missus Tillinger’s babies for free. 

Of course nothing ever turns out the way you think it will. Jeanne went to Hollywood, but last I heard she was a secretary. Emily married a forest ranger and moved to Canada. And me? I’m back at my parents’ house allowing some stranger to care for my three babies.

Maria Ramirez is nice enough but she’s still a total stranger, and it kills me to think she’s the one mothering my children. It ought to be me. Me or Mom—at least she’s their grandma. Of course that’s not likely to happen; Jeffrey has made it obvious he doesn’t want Mom around. Before I came home from the hospital, she’d help out with the kids whenever she could. Then JT told her to stay away. It’s a shame, because David and Kimmie both adore her. Christian, well, he’s still an infant. The first few months of a baby’s life is when they come to know the touch and smell of people. If Jeffrey continues to keep the kids from us, how can Christian ever get to know Mom? Worse yet, how can he get to know me? 

Jeffrey’s trying to force Daddy to give him the money he wants, and he’s using our kids as leverage. Unfortunately, the one who suffers most is me. Me and Mom. I haven’t seen David and Kimberly since the week after Christian was born, and I haven’t seen Christian since we left the hospital. As much as I miss Jeffrey, I miss the kids a whole lot more.