The Christmas Hope(11)

In the last several days Mark had gone through his closet and begun to pack his things into boxes and suitcases. I know Mom had seen the boxes and I know she wondered why I hadn’t tried to stop Mark but I couldn’t. I didn’t know how. In four years I hadn’t given him any reason to stay. I was surprised he stayed as long as he did. But what Mom and Dad didn’t know is that I had asked Mark about the bags a few days earlier when I saw him cleaning out his closet. “Are you leaving, Mark?”

He put his hands in his pockets and stared at the floor. “I can’t live like this, Patricia.” He was leaving. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

I walked out of the room. It was a hopeless solution but Mark and I had both known for the last year that it was the only thing left to do. Soon there wouldn’t be anything left of this family.

“But you’re acting like it’s over,” Mom said. “There’s always hope, Patti. All you—”

I put up my hand. “Stop it, Mom. Just stop.” I saw the look in her eyes as I closed the door behind me and I knew I’d hurt her. I got in the car and felt myself shaking. How had I become so cold? I should have stayed and talked with them but I was tired in every way so I drove home, went to bed, and prayed for just one day of peace in my life.





THREE




We have to go into the despair and go beyond it, by working and doing for somebody else, by using it for something else.

—Elie Wiesel



I was dreaming. I don’t know how many times the phone rang before I realized what was happening. It was almost midnight. “Patricia, this is Karen Delphy. I’m sorry to call you so late but I have an emergency.”

“What is it?”

“We just received word from Eric’s mother that his father has taken a turn for the worse.” I knew Eric’s father had battled emphysema for the last several years. “Doctors have said that if family wants to see him one last time that they need to come now.”

“I understand. I’ll come get Emily right away.” Five-year-old Emily Weist had been in Karen and Eric’s home for the past five months. I’d try to call another foster family on my way to pick up Emily.

I had first met Emily five months earlier in July. I was able to piece together her story from what she and her neighbor, Greta Larson, told me. On that July day Emily sat on the bathroom counter and watched her mother get ready for work. “I’m going to call Mrs. Larson to see if she can watch you tonight,” her mother said. Sixty-one-year-old Greta lived down the street from the tiny duplex Tracy and Emily rented and had always been kind to them. She would often bring meals for them to eat, drop off a winter coat or pair of shoes for Emily, or watch Emily when Tracy was unexpectedly called in to work a shift for someone at the restaurant.





The doorbell rang and Emily jumped off the counter.

“I’ll get it.” She opened the door and found Greta holding a bowl covered with aluminum foil. “Miss Greta,” Emily said, throwing herself into Greta’s legs.

“Have you eaten?” Greta asked.

“Nope.”

“How does chicken pot pie sound?”

“Yum-mee,” the little girl said, taking the bowl from her. She set it down on the red, white, and blue plastic tablecloth covered with fireworks.

“It’s left over from yesterday but it’s still good. I had it for lunch.”

Tracy walked out of the bathroom brushing her hair. “Hi, Greta, I was just going to call you.” She stopped when she saw that Greta was wearing nice slacks and a blouse. “Wow. You look so nice.”

“It’s our anniversary and Hal is taking me out for dinner tonight.”

Emily snapped her head to look at Greta. “So you won’t be able to watch …” Tracy moved toward Emily to quiet her.

Greta looked at Emily’s face and realized something was wrong. “Are you working tonight, Tracy? Do you need me to watch Emily?”

“No. You and Hal go out and have a great anniversary.”

“We can do it another night. It’s no big deal. We’ve had forty-one other anniversaries.”

“No. I can find someone else.”

Greta didn’t believe her. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

For as long as Greta had known Tracy she’d never seen anyone else take care of Emily. “Why don’t Hal and I just bring Emily with us?”

“Yeah!” Emily shrieked.

“No,” Tracy said, leading Greta out. “Have a great time and thanks for the food. I’m calling someone right now to come be with Emily.”

“Call me if you can’t find anyone,” Greta said, walking down the driveway. Tracy picked up the phone and started to dial a number. No one was home. She dialed another number and it had been disconnected. Twenty minutes later she was out of phone numbers and at risk of being late for work. She threw on her uniform and sat down at the kitchen table as Emily finished her meal. She put her head down to think.