Long Blue Line: Based on a True Story (12 page)

The summer after graduation was hot and miserable. I was ready to pop and desperate to have this baby. My mom had been spending a lot of time at my apartment knowing that I needed help with anything she was willing to do.

It was a normal, hot, boring Saturday, and Josh decided to ditch the family and go fishing with Donnie. I honestly didn’t care, because he was getting on my nerves anyway. My mom, Chloe and I went on a little shopping spree, and she got me my favorite combination of the pregnancy-preferred snacks that I was currently obsessing over. Once we got home and blasted the fan, I practically fell back onto the couch, ready to chug my soda and indulge in my Kit-Kat bar. It was already late afternoon, and of course, I had no update from my husband or his whereabouts. This was sadly typical behavior to be expected from him. As it started to become dark outside, I did begin to become worried and I quickly became angry knowing that he was probably just too drunk to remember to update me…again. I was extra upset because I was so pregnant and expecting to go into labor at any moment. It hurt my feelings that he just didn’t care.

“RING…RING…RING…” my phone blared. It was nine o’clock at night. I had a bad feeling. Josh typically either called me by six or just showed up the next day. Rarely did I get a peak-party-hour update. Picking up the phone, I could not believe what I heard.

“Hello, is this Elizabeth? My name is Nurse Mary and I am with the Enloe hospital emergency room in Chico. Your husband, Josh, was in a roll-over car accident and flown here because he was periodically going unconscious.” The nurse gave me this information as if it were an everyday conversation. I guess it was to her.

“Oh my gosh. Okay… is he going to be all right?” I asked with a trembling in my voice and my hands shaking as I gripped the phone. “Oh yes! He is doing well now. We are waiting on some simple test results, but other than that, he should be free to go home tomorrow.”

After getting off the phone and calling my mother to tell what had happened, I was in a panic to get to the hospital that was five hours away to be with my husband. My mother was the only one who could take me because I had no idea where this place was and was too pregnant to go that far on my own.

“Honey, it’s almost ten at night and Josh is fine. We need to wait until morning to go get him, Liz. Maybe this will teach him a lesson,” my mom affirmed. She was right, and if no one rushed to his rescue, maybe it would force him to think about it even more. I felt like I was reliving that Thanksgiving night that he went to jail, except I felt a different kind of sympathy. It was an exhausted sympathy that was running out. The one thing that these two incidents had in common was alcohol.

The next day we made the long drive to get Josh. He looked beat up and hung over. I was glad that he was at least alive. I forced an explanation out of him once we got home. Apparently a tire on Donnie’s truck just suddenly “fallen off” causing them to flip. That was total crap, and I knew it. I also knew that he would stick to this lie to protect Donnie. He wouldn’t admit that the two of them had been drunk and speeding.

The accident caused Josh to slow down on his drinking for a couple of weeks. It was good timing. I was really pregnant and really needed him to just grow the hell up.

In a desperate attempt to put my body into labor, I went on five-mile walks with Josh, gagged down castor oil and orange juice, had miserable sessions of sex, and made a pathetic attempt at jumping jacks. This baby was going to come when it was ready, and there was nothing I could do to change it. After taking a long cool shower one hot afternoon, I dried off to realize that my leg continued to stay wet. I dried it again, and it was soaked again. My water was leaking. Happy and nervous, I called my mother to come pick me up, and I called Josh at work instructing him to head over to the hospital. The nurses admitted me and ran a test to make sure I was correct, and sure enough, one of them announced “Let’s put it this way; you aren’t leaving this hospital without your baby in your arms.”

I let out a sigh of relief. Although I knew that it would never be the same, I wanted my body back. Chloe’s birth was painful, but I was confident that I could deliver Zoe without an epidural. I would be induced the next morning at 7:00. I tossed and turned the whole night in anticipation with Josh by my side. My mother spent the night so she could be with me in the morning.

Seven o’clock finally rolled around. I explained to the nurse that I just wanted to go with the flow, and if I ended up needing medication I would let her know, but I could probably do without. My mom had dropped Chloe off with Hilda, which didn’t happen often because Hilda was seldom sober. When she was sober, though, she was a good grandma.

Merri was hanging around the hospital room pacing nervously. She somehow got stuck with my mother and had no way to get home. She wasn’t the type to be a part of anything that was gruesome involving humans. Pets yes, but not humans. She helped out with surgeries on animals for her senior project, but that was a different story for her. By ten o’clock the pain was nearly excruciating. The pressure, once again, was overbearingly nauseating. At that point, I couldn’t handle any more. “I need the epidural, like now!” I demanded to the nurse. “Well, you are already eight centimeters. I will call the anesthesiologist, but don’t get your hopes up because he may not arrive in time.” You have got to be absolutely kidding me, I angrily thought. I was so disappointed that it was borderline heartbreaking. The memory of the intense pain was all coming back to me full-force.       

Unlike the last time, I was in a full-blown panic and scared to death of what I knew was to come. I fought it pretty hard. I really wanted no part in this ordeal - not to mention the nurse’s lack of caring enough really fueled my fire. Merri became so scared of the screams coming out of my mouth that she had to face the wall and plug her ears. I later learned that she was actually in the corner of the hospital room having a full-blown panic attack.              

“AAAAAAAAH!! Get this thing out of me NOW!” I wailed. I was in so much pain that screaming was the only way to release it. Finally, the Dr. had to get in my face, force me to make eye contact with her, and tell me to push instead of scream. I came to my senses and understood that she was right. On the next contraction I pushed as hard as I possibly could, and that familiar and beautiful sense of relief overcame me. It was finally over. Our new baby, another girl, was a beautiful little screamer that looked just like her sister. Her face was a little swollen from the quick entrance she made into the world, but she was gorgeous, and I was immediately in love. We had decided that if we had another girl, her name would be Zoe.

After the doctor tested my patience with stitches, and who knows what else, I was finally able to sit in a normal position and hold my baby girl. Visitors came and left, and the night fell. This time, Josh was by my side the entire time. He helped me when I asked, and he said nothing about leaving to go anywhere that surely would have led to alcohol streaming down his throat.

For once, I actually felt like we might be okay, and he might have just grown up a little bit. In the middle of the night, Zoe started to cry out of hunger. I was happy to have more confidence than I had had with Chloe. I picked the sweet, little life up from her bassinette and brought her to my chest. “I love you so much little girl. I am so happy you are here and part of our family.” I whispered, as I welcomed her cuddly embrace. The most innocent creature to ever greet the planet is, without doubt, a newborn baby. A newborn is incredibly innocent and helpless. Unlike Chloe, Zoe didn’t make many creaky door noises. I noticed that she had a frown on her face, and a lightning-fast thought came and left my mind all in an instant. What if she knows something that we don’t? What if she foresees a sad future? The thought of anything sad that might happen to my precious little girls’ lives hurt my feelings. I quickly erased it and fell asleep with her on my chest.

The next morning my mother brought Chloe to the hospital just as we were getting ready to check out. The sweetest sight that I had ever witnessed and the most symbolic sight as well, was when Chloe, with assistance at only fourteen months old, held Zoe on her lap. She became so excited that she laughed out loud. Chloe was thrilled to have her baby sister. It was almost as if she knew that her best friend had finally arrived. They were meant to be in each other’s lives for more reasons than anyone will ever understand.

Bringing Zoe home was a new experience. I was lucky to have my mom’s help with Chloe when Josh was working because without my mom around, I was alone with my two babies. It became a blur, but I remember asking myself, at one point, if I could handle it. Physically, I only had so many arms! Mentally I felt okay, just unsure if I would be able to keep up with the demands. My day was diaper change after diaper change, nursing Zoe, feeding Chloe, battles over naptime, and meltdowns over competing for attention. Bedtime didn’t even provide any relief because I was too nervous to keep them in their own rooms. I was afraid of a variety of scenarios: someone might break in, the house would catch fire, or one of them might stop breathing…you name it and I worried about it. When Zoe had her first birthday, I finally started to feel like I was adjusting to having two babies in diapers. I had lost most of the baby weight and I started to feel like I had more energy and a better grip on the routine.

I was excited when I learned that Megan would be moving back. Apparently she was sick of Utah and couldn’t stand James’ mother bossing her around. I was interested to see how we would go on our joyrides with three babies in the back seat. In order to be a happy mother I needed to have a routine of getting out of the house once in a while. I was enrolled in community college courses full time, and my goal was to transfer to nursing school after two years. I was a bit nervous when college started, as I hadn’t done much socializing in what felt like forever. I managed to get the girls enrolled in daycare part-time, and I had my paperwork turned in for school and my schedule set. I was approved for financial aid as well, and I knew that would help tremendously.

On my first day of school, I was nervous and sad about dropping the girls off at daycare. I was worried that the girls might flip out and think that I was abandoning them. It was definitely more difficult for me than it was for them. Chloe wandered off infatuated with the mounds of new toys and other kids, and Zoe had no idea what was going on, but she didn’t cry and that is all that mattered at the moment.

My classes were laid back, and after going through each syllabus, I realized that I could easily get through them. The more I did my homework and aced my tests, the more confident I became. I was completely driven and motivated to get into nursing school. I knew that I loved to help people, and I had a way of putting myself into other people’s shoes. My first round of final exams had come and gone, and, eager as hell to know how I had done, I pulled up my grades online. Three As, and one B! I was so excited that I let out the most high-pitched, girly scream that was totally foreign to me. “Sorry…!” I said to Josh. He was startled and looked my way, annoyed. I had proven myself right once again and beaten the odds. I was a mother, a housewife, and a full-time student and doing all of these tasks exceptionally well. Life couldn’t be better. Except for Josh. I knew deep down that if I ever wanted to offer my babies a good life, I was going to have to do the hard work and become independently successful. Josh didn’t have the drive that it took, and his drinking problem was getting worse by the day.

Our marriage felt childish, and fake. The more he drank and the more he failed to come home at a decent hour, the more respect I lost for him. Josh was still a boy. By no means was he ready to be a man and really be around to support his family. I was not ready to leave Josh, but it was fun to daydream about other options. Maybe I let myself daydream too much. Each time Josh brought the bottle to his mouth, I fantasized even more about finding a person to be with who could genuinely take care of me and the girls. I wanted a normal family environment, and I was so sick of worrying each night whether or not Josh was going to come home, or if I would get a knock on my door from authorities stating that he was dead. If he had ended up joining the Army and dying in combat, at least it would’ve been an honorable death and his girls would grow up proud, knowing that their dad died a hero. Dying from the resulting damage of getting behind the wheel while drunk was the absolute opposite of heroic. It was shameful and selfish.

I began to realize that it was becoming more and more unfair for the girls and myself to base our lives around his drinking and the stupidity that came along with it. I called a local recovery center to inquire about treatment for Josh. “You can’t force your husband to come to treatment, and unless it is Court ordered, there is nothing we can do. He needs to come in himself and agree to stay.” I sighed and thanked the lady for the information. There was no way in hell he would agree to stay in treatment. It was so easy for me to just want to give up on him. It would be one less thing to worry about if he wasn’t in my life. Of course, I would always want him to be a part of Chloe and Zoe’s lives, but I was tired of babysitting a now twenty-two year old man. He was clearly not going to grow up any more.

The holidays came and went, I was in my second semester of college, and Megan, James, and their daughter, Kylee, had moved into the apartment complex a few buildings down from us. We were happy to be neighbors and began hanging out like the old days. It was good for Josh to have a friend that wasn’t a raging alcoholic. Megan and I managed to squeeze all three of the girls into the back seat of the car any time we wanted to go somewhere. Kylee was between Chloe and Zoe’s ages. It was adorable lining them up from biggest to smallest. We no doubt resembled a teenage version of the Desperate Housewives.

We were bored with the same stuff happening on a daily basis and our husbands became boring. We got out of the house and left them together as much as possible. Eventually we thought it would be entertaining to find some guys to flirt with. We didn’t intend on moving an inch past flirting. One sunny (but icy) afternoon, Megan needed to stop at the tire shop to get a flat tire repaired. Sure enough, Josh was working his usual shift. Of course, Donnie and Derrick were also working. Donnie instantly started to flirt with Megan. It was obvious that she was entertained by the attention of a thirty-two year-old. I assumed she was just playing along. And go figure, Derrick, whom I had written off as a total pervert, was attempting to get any reaction out of me that he possibly could. “So Elizabeth, how should I break up with Macy? She is just too dumb for me. I need someone smart like you.” he said. “I don’t know, just tell her she is a total idiot and you never want to see her face again.” I said, annoyed. “Daaaamn girl, ouch!”

I wanted Derrick to think that I was not a nice person, even though I was. I wanted him to not like me and to not hit on me. It backfired and made him want me even more - now I was a challenge to him, and he would be on an intense mission to make me his. “I’m married with two kids.” I pointed to the back seat as he was loitering. He smiled, then laughed and walked away. “Come see me when you’re eighteen!” he yelled. This man had no shame! With my husband directly behind us, and knowing that he wouldn’t say anything, Derrick blabbered on. I felt bad for Josh, and I knew that it really took a hit to his self-esteem. On the drive home, I said to Megan, “I don’t know… Derrick is cute and everything, but I just have a bad feeling about him that I can’t quite pinpoint.” “Really? That’s weird. I don’t think he’s that bad,” Megan said.

As the winter months dragged on, Megan and I had a bad case of cabin fever. Eventually she and Donnie exchanged numbers as friends. This led to us making secret stops at their house on a daily basis. We never got out of her truck; the guys were beyond happy to come outside and hang on the car doors and chat. Their house was a dump. It was on a dirt road that shared the same property as an abandoned trailer. I later learned that they were growing massive amounts of marijuana in the trailer. Megan and I ditched our husbands when we could get away with it and snuck to their house as much as we could. I hated Derrick hitting on me like a sick pervert, but subconsciously I liked the attention. Josh didn’t know how to make me feel that way. Josh wanted sex and dinner and that was it. He would never have a serious conversation with me.

Finally, one night, after Josh had been drinking for eight hours, I just couldn’t take it anymore. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I gave in, opened a wine cooler, and sat down at the kitchen table to play cards with his friends. I was willing to go to whatever extent it took to either give Josh the wake-up call that he needed or just get it over with. I caught a buzz and became flirty. I figured this would result in one of two things - Josh would man up and ask his friends to leave so we could have a serious talk, or he would feel sorry for himself because of the drunken mess that he had become and do nothing to help the dilemma. Josh noticed my harmless flirting and embarrassed us both. He sat in the corner and dropped his head, slurring profanities at me, and then caved in to a drunken sob. He couldn’t possibly have been aware of what he was doing or saying with how intoxicated he was. Chloe and Zoe were in bed asleep, and I knew that if I bolted out of the house before he could catch me, Josh would have no choice but to stay home until I returned. Slightly drunk, I did just that. Because it was 1:00 in the morning, I was really unsure of exactly where I was going. I suddenly wanted to go to Derrick’s house to see what would happen if I showed maybe a tiny bit of interest, but I didn’t think he would be awake.

I slowly drove past his house, and I saw the reflection of the glaring TV - someone was awake! Thrilled, I pulled in and drove down the bumpy dirt driveway. I assumed that it would be Donnie that was awake as well as wasted, which was his usual routine. After knocking on the sliding glass door, Derrick opened the curtains, and with his eyes wide in shock, he smiled and told me to come in. Looking me over, he said, “Look at you, hottie, what are you doing awake right now? Isn’t it past your bed time?” I shrugged. “Josh is a total idiot, and I just can’t stand it anymore. It’s just not going to work. He is a full-blown alcoholic, he never helps with the girls when I need to do homework, and it is like having a third child. He just won’t grow up!” I ranted. “I knew this all along,” he gloated. “I knew that one day you wouldn’t be able to handle it and you would show up at my house and knock on the door in the middle of the night!” I socked him playfully on the arm. As much of a pervert as he was, I was impressed with his ability to hold a serious conversation. He actually had some knowledge and insight. He was starting to grow on me with each passing minute.

We sat on the couch as he finished watching his movie. It was some sort of a boring action movie. Testing the waters, he decided to get complacent as he laid his head on my lap. I put my hand on his head as a green light. Before we knew it, we were making out with him on top of me on the old, beat up couch. I just wanted to feel like an adult, being loved by an adult. Now THIS was a man, I thought - physically and mentally.

One thing led to another, and it happened. I officially cheated on my husband whom I vowed in front of God, family, and Chloe, to always be true to. The sign that it was really over for me was that I didn’t feel bad. I was more excited that I had the chance to see what else was out there, and in my mind, at that moment, Derrick was much more than I thought him to be. I instantly fell in love with him.

By now it was around four in the morning. We were hungry and decided to take a drive and get breakfast at the casino. Now eighteen and in my pajamas with pigtails, I fearlessly sat down at the Wheel of Fortune game and tried my luck with a twenty dollar bill that Derrick gave me. I thought that it was so cool that he could just spare an extra twenty dollars. To me, in my world, that was a lot of money that could go pretty far. Lucky me; I won $220. I thought this was an awesome sign and offered to buy breakfast. After dropping Derrick off at home so he could get ready for work, I headed over to my mother’s house where Josh had dropped the girls off. I was very tired and feeling hung over. As I was lifelessly lying on my mother’s living room floor, Josh knocked on the door. I had nothing to say to him. I began to feel guilty, and it was too much to handle. I just ignored him. “Elizabeth, I know what you did last night,” he accused. “This is your last chance to talk to me because I have someone else who wants me and will treat me better.” I still did not respond though adrenaline was pumping through my veins. I had a feeling that I knew who he was referring to. It was a fifteen-year-old girl named Alena whom Megan had been hanging around with.

As soon as Josh left, I called Megan and demanded to know what was going on. To my surprise, Alena answered the phone. “What do you want, you stupid whore? Oh, and by the way, your kids are ugly. My baby is way prettier!” she childishly sang. “Oh please, little girl. Where is Megan?” I heard Megan scolding Alena for answering the phone. “Megan, what is going on?” “They were flirting earlier today, but nothing serious,” she said, Why would you care anyway - aren’t you with Derrick now?” she accused. “I don’t know what is going on, but regardless, you are supposed to be my friend! I guess I really have no idea who you are!” I screamed, hanging up the phone with tears streaming down my face. I had a million emotions going on all at once, and I didn’t know how to process them. I went outside and lit up a cigarette. I had not smoked up until then. The nicotine made me happy, and I went down the street and bought a carton.

Later that evening, while battling with Josh over the phone, I was tormented by sex noises coming from the background. I assumed it was to give me unmanageable grief. I was at a loss, and there was no bargaining. There was no way to make it better with Josh. We had both done each other wrong, and the damage was too severe. I had reached the point of just wanting to go home and work it out for the girls’ sake. Josh was not being reasonable and could not even bite his tongue for one second to let me talk. I could hear Alena and Megan egging him on. I was sad that my best friend had suddenly turned on me and I really didn’t know why. She was the one constantly wanting to go flirt with the brothers, and now she was stabbing me in the back.

I was close to a meltdown when Derrick called me at the end of the day. “What’s up? Are you okay?” He genuinely asked. “Not really… just a bunch of drama.” I said. “Well, hey, let me buy you dinner tonight. Do you want to go down to Route 395 Grill in Carson?” “Hell, yeah!” I replied. Getting off the hill and away from all of the mixed emotions sounded like heaven. I packed up Chloe and Zoe and picked up Derrick. He was clearly already comfortable around me and talked about work and life at home with his brother. We arrived at the restaurant, and without hesitation, Derrick got out of his seat and opened the back door where Chloe was sitting. He helped her out and held her hand to cross the street. As I was carrying Zoe, who was about thirteen months old, my heart melted and this made me want Derrick even more. It seemed like he naturally knew what to do, and that would be necessary if I were to have another relationship.