Weeds in the Garden of Love (9 page)

When they slid off the bed down onto the carpet, neither one of them noticed nor cared. Chrissie had more orgasms than she could count. She didn’t think the last one would stop. She felt Craig come with her.

Afterwards, as they tried to catch their breath, they laughed at the trail of discarded clothing strewn across the bedroom floor. The lust of that night would light a fire in their minds—forever.

Chrissie thought about Eric Millard the whole time.

CHAPTER NINE

Priorities

Sunday dinner at Joe and Olivia’s was something Craig and Chrissie always looked forward to. Joe and Olivia had a lust for life and were tons of fun. They loved each other, their family and their hobby farm Olivia called: “a little slice of heaven.” Joe had a huge workshop in the old stone barn where he was restoring a Stearman bi-plane. He also made replica antique wooden toys for his grandchildren. Olivia was a relaxed and gracious hostess.

The kids were treated like royalty and were secure in the knowledge Grandma Olivia and Grandpa Joe loved them to pieces. Robbie, Heather and Stella wore themselves out roaming all over the property, exploring and playing. The grandkids were always welcome to help Olivia in the kitchen or Joe in the workshop or the yard.

Craig loved his in-laws. He and Olivia had grown close over the years. Joe and Craig shared a passion for sports, especially football. They were always glued to the television watching the games on what Joe called the “high holidays” like Thanksgiving, New Years Day and, of course, Super Bowl Sunday.

Although the farm was about a forty-minute drive from home, Craig often dropped by to check on Olivia when Joe was away flying. He was a senior 747 captain with Worldwide Air, and seniority allowed him to bid for the best flights every month. Flying long haul at night paid the highest wages, so Joe usually chose the international flights. He was away about ten days a month and appreciated Craig keeping an eye on Olivia. Olivia was entirely capable of looking after herself, but it was pleasing to know the men in her life cared about her.

Craig, Chrissie and the kids pulled into the driveway. Olivia was waiting on the porch. Stella was out of the car in a flash and after giving Olivia a tail-wagging hello, was off to explore. Heather and Robbie ran to her for hugs. Joe emerged from his workshop, and the kids hurried to him for more hugs and candy. Grandpa Joe always had candy. He said it was a rule in The Grandpa’s Handbook.

Later, Craig and Joe were putting the finishing touches on a six-pack of beer while they watched the N.F.L. Neither one of them had a favorite pro team, but college football was different. Everyone in the family remembered that fateful New Year’s Day when their respective alma maters met in a bowl game. For years, Olivia would say the Army-Navy game had less tension and rivalry. Joe and Craig never admitted to anyone they didn’t honestly care who won, but it was fun pretending they did.

Olivia rang the dinner bell on the back porch to announce the coming feast. Chrissie had spent most of the afternoon on the phone with clients but helped her mother dish up the food at dinnertime. She was purposely avoiding personal conversations with her mother these days. Olivia knew too much about drinking problems. She had been down that path herself. Chrissie couldn’t fool her.
Damn my mother,
Chrissie thought.
I don’t know why she has to talk so much about alcoholism. She goes on and on about it.
And s
he’s responsible for Craig’s suspicions. She taught him all about A.A. No need. I am absolutely totally in control of my drinking.

Olivia knew if Chrissie continued to drink, her life was going to become increasingly unmanageable. She suspected Chrissie had already passed point “x” and now needed a hangover-easing belt in the morning, a few drinks at lunch, as well as cocktails after work. She would appear to be a social drinker in public while secretly consuming enough alcohol to satisfy her craving. Craig and Olivia often discussed Chrissie’s drinking. Today was no exception. Chrissie was outside with Heather and Robbie. Craig came into the kitchen to talk to Olivia. He was comfortable talking to her. As a recovering alcoholic, she understood the mentality.

“
She seems to care more about the bottle than she does about her family,” Craig said.

“
She does,” Olivia said. “I mean look at it from her point of view. Her family disapproves of her drinking. The bottle, on the other hand, is her friend. Alcohol makes her feel good, relieves her stress and doesn’t criticize her. Sounds like a good friend to me.”

“
Well, her friend is starting to make her look old.”

Olivia agreed. “She has been looking a little haggard lately. It’s a warning sign. Alcoholism ages everyone, but it’s especially hard on women.”

Robbie came into the kitchen looking for his dad. He was carrying two baseball gloves. Craig went outside to play catch with him.

Olivia was thankful she had a son-in-law like Craig. He cared so much about her daughter and was such a good dad. She wished she could convince Chrissie to go to A.A. but knew it wouldn’t work.
She has to ask for help,
Olivia thought.
I
f I were to say anything
, s
he would deny it.
Craig’s our ace in the hole—he’ll do whatever it takes to get her sober.
Olivia had already enlisted Joe’s help to encourage Craig to go to Alanon.

At dinnertime, they all stuffed themselves with Olivia’s famous roast beef dinner complete with Yorkshire pudding. Everyone vowed they would never eat this much again. They all pitched in to clear and stack dishes until Olivia shooed them away.

The kids went outside to play, and Chrissie went along to keep an eye on them. The men, excused from further duty, went back to football. Craig sensed Joe had something on his mind. It wasn’t long before he knew what it was.

“
Tell me what’s going on, Craig? I hear you two are having problems.” Joe was a man of few words. Craig admired that about him.

“
Not any more than most married couples these days. We’re busy raising kids and working long hours at Towercrest. We don’t seem to have a lot of time for each other.” Craig hoped that would satisfy Joe, and they could go back to watching football. Apparently, football could wait. Joe asked him, point-blank, about Chrissie’s drinking.

“
I guess Olivia told you she and I’ve been talking,” Craig said.

“
Absolutely. You know Liv and I share everything.”

“
Actually, our nanny told me she has seen Chrissie pouring vodka into an orange juice bottle before she drives Robbie to playschool. And she often has both kids in the car with her.”

“
Well,” Joe said, “has she?”

“
I don’t know. I haven’t been able to catch her. I’ve searched our house from top to bottom. If she’s hidden any booze, I can’t find it.”

Joe smiled. “Alkies are crafty devils. You’d be amazed at their ingenuity. The lengths they’ll go to in order to hide booze would boggle your mind.”

He told Craig that Olivia had been sober for a few years when she had a strange dream. She dreamt she hung a bottle of whiskey from a string attached beneath the base of their old milk delivery compartment beside the back door. Years before, when home milk delivery became a thing of the past, Joe replaced the outside door with plywood and plastered over it. He secured the inside compartment door, planning to remove it one day.

“
Would you believe it, Craig? After Olivia told me about her dream, I pried open that inside door and lifted the plywood base. Underneath, I found a cup hook with a string attached and a long-forgotten, dusty, full bottle of whiskey hanging from it. I could have dry walled over that milk door, and no one, including me, would have ever known the bottle was there.”

Craig had totally underestimated the twisted imagination of an alcoholic. “That’s unbelievable. I wonder if Chrissie would ever do something like that?”

“
Sure she sure would. Her mother did.”

“
I never considered that. You’re absolutely right, Joe. Chrissie has probably hidden liquor somewhere in that house and I just can’t find it. At least now I know why. The most frustrating part of this whole thing is I can’t do anything about her drinking. I can’t talk to her about it. I have trouble trying to talk to Chrissie about anything she doesn’t want to hear. And God help me if I disagree with her. She flies off the handle and we end up in a shouting match. It’s like I’m not allowed to have my own opinion on anything.”

Joe agreed. “That’s Chrissie, all right. She’s a bear if anyone disagrees with her. It’s not worth the hassle.”

“
Don’t I know it! She always blames everybody else for her problems. It’s never her fault.”

“
Typical alcoholic personality trait, kid,” Joe said. “And by the way, you can do something about it.”

“
What’s that?”

“
It’s about time you went to Alanon. Those folks will help you.”

“
Olivia said the same thing. But how do I deal with Chrissie in the meantime?”

“
Go to Alanon,” Joe said. “It’s the best thing for both of you.” Craig wished Joe could help him deal with Chrissie’s attitude. He knew in his heart no one could.

Craig and Joe heard Heather screaming. They scrambled out of their chairs and ran outside. Olivia was standing with Robbie. Chrissie was carrying Heather to the car.

Craig could see blood on Heather’s head. “Is she okay, Chrissie?”

“
She cut her head!” Chrissie put Heather into the back seat then quickly climbed behind the wheel. “She’s bleeding and needs stitches!” Chrissie slammed the door, and her tires threw gravel as she sped out of the yard.

“
Be careful, Chrissie,” Craig said. She was already out the front gate onto the main road.

Craig went over to Robbie to make sure he was okay. Olivia gave Craig a reassuring wink. Craig asked what happened. Robbie said he climbed his favorite big tree, and Heather followed him up. He told Heather to climb down, but she was too scared and couldn’t go back. Robbie was climbing down to help her, but she fell. She bounced off a big branch near the bottom before hitting the ground.

“
I thought your mother was with you,” Craig said.

“
She wasn’t around when it happened, Dad. She went to the car to get a drink of orange juice.”

Craig looked at Joe and Olivia. The look on their faces told the story. Their family was in crisis. But the most serious crisis had yet to be revealed.

Even to Olivia.

CHAPTER TEN

Prognosis

Heather whispered from the hallway. “Robbie? You awake?”

“
Yeah.”

“
I’m scared. Can I come and sleep with you?”

“
Sure, Headie. C’mon.”

This was happening more and more often. Their parents were arguing. Robbie and Heather used to sneak to the top of the stairs to watch, until the night they got caught. Now, they hide in their rooms waiting for the fighting to stop. It usually did after the front door slammed. But tonight was different. Tonight, their father was yelling as loudly as their mother.

Chrissie and Craig were in a full-scale war. What initiated the disagreement was forgotten and lost in the screaming. They were both saying horrible things they didn’t mean; each trying to out hurt the other. Afterward, they would regret using such nasty language. Right now, in the heat of battle, all that mattered was winning. Craig’s parting shot was followed by a definitive door slam. Chrissie stormed into the living room and collapsed into a fetal sobbing mass on the couch.

Heather fell asleep beside Robbie, her arm thrown across his chest. Robbie stared at the ceiling. He knew something was very wrong. He was worried about what might happen to him and his little sister.

Craig drove around, trying to cool off. He drove out of Botsford Downs to a scenic lookout with a panoramic view of the city. Craig enjoyed this spot and did some of his best thinking here. Tonight, he looked out over the houses and wondered how many couples were going through the same troublesome times as he and Chrissie. How many would make it—and how many would end in divorce?

* * *

The months since Heather’s accident at Joe and Olivia’s had been tough.
I had to confront Chrissie about her drinking,
Craig thought.
I mean she was
endangering her own children.

Throughout that winter, Craig and Chrissie drifted further apart. They argued more than they laughed—more war than peace. Craig had finally stood up to her. He had to make a stand, or Chrissie would crush him. He regretted tolerating her browbeating for so many years.
I should have stood up to her a long time ago, but I didn’t have the guts. It wasn’t worth the hassle. Now, I can’t take it anymore. I have to either fight back or shrink into oblivion.

Spring turned to summer and now, in the fall, their relationship was in tatters. Chrissie refused to accept any blame, insisting she was right. She accused Craig of ruining their relationship and even accused him of having an affair. Nothing remained even remotely resembling a marriage.

* * *

The headlights of a passing car jolted Craig from his thoughts. He headed for home. Chrissie would be in bed, asleep. He would, once again, sleep in the den.
I’ll apologize in the morning,
he thought.
A
nd
I’ll never lose control again, no matter what she says to provoke me.