Midnight Caller - By Diane Burke Page 0,21
a man like this,” Erin whispered. “The forever-kind-of-love where there are no shields and I open my heart. The thought scares me to death.”
Carol squeezed her hand. “Honey, why are you tormenting yourself like this?”
“Because I don’t want to follow in my mother’s footsteps.”
“You’re nothing like your mother.”
“I know. And I’m determined to keep it that way. I remember my parents’ arguments. Smashed dishes. Thrown glasses.” Erin absently rubbed her wrist, remembering other casualties of those past disputes.
“Your mother was a mean drunk. Why do you think I hated coming over to your house?”
“My mother was a lonely woman who hated being married to a cop in a generation when divorce was a dirty word and people lived out their lives in misery. Dad never seemed to be around when she needed him. Every school recital, holiday, most dinners, my mother was alone. Even when he was home, he wasn’t. He’d bury himself in the study and work.”
“Erin, your mother was an active alcoholic who abused her husband, her child and herself. You can’t blame your dad’s job for that or your dad.”
“Can’t I?” Erin knew her voice revealed her pain, but she couldn’t help it.
Carol’s eyes misted. “Honey, you’re carrying around a whole lot of anger and bitterness. It’s time to give that burden to the Lord. He’ll help you if you let Him. You need to learn to forgive.”
Erin sighed. “Easier said than done…this forgiveness thing is the toughest part for me.”
“I know,” Carol said. “But God wants us to forgive. He asks us to love one another and leave the judging part to Him.” She patted Erin’s hand. “Trust me. My own experience has taught me you’ll feel a thousand percent better when you let all that ugly, burdensome stuff go and just turn it over to the Lord.”
“I wish I could. I remember when I was seven we were evacuated for an impending hurricane. My mother pleaded with Dad not to leave us. She was terrified. We both were. But he was a cop. It was his job to protect the public, not his family. So, he left.
“Mom and I drove in bumper-to-bumper traffic for hours. The hotels were full everywhere we went until we found a room in this dark, smelly hole-in-the-wall. Mom started drinking heavier than usual. I was scared and I kept asking for Daddy. She got so mad at me,” Erin whispered. “That was my first broken bone. I told the doctor I fell off the bed.”
“Erin, I’m so sorry.” Carol put an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “I can’t believe you never told me. I used to think you were just a giant klutz with all your bumps and bruises and casts. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Erin saw tears in her friend’s eyes and hugged her. “What could you have done? What could anybody have done? I thought it was my fault. And I was afraid if I told it would make my mother madder.” Erin carried her empty cup to the sink.
“Did your father know?” Carol asked.
“I never told him. He never asked. He accepted Mom’s explanations without question.” Memories taunted her. “Except once.” Erin turned toward Carol. “I had my wrist in a cast, again. He stood in the doorway with an odd expression on his face. Like he was bracing himself for something horrible. He asked me if I really did trip over my skates.”
“What did you tell him?” Carol asked.
“I was nine and scared of my mother’s anger. What do you think I told him?” She forced herself to smile. “Anyway, it’s all past history. A closed door I don’t often open.”
“You’re an adult now and a nurse to boot. You can’t really believe your dad’s job caused your mother’s drinking, do you?”
Erin fought tears. “I know it didn’t help. I was seventeen when drunk driving claimed her life.” Erin poured herself a glass of water and took a sip. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. But I often wondered if he had been home that day. Maybe if he had been there…”
Carol’s gaze locked with hers. “Maybe he couldn’t be. Maybe he tried for years and the booze pushed him away until he gave up.”
Erin’s temper warmed her cheeks, but she didn’t reply.
Carol’s voice softened. “If I remember correctly, your dad was there when you needed him. After Jack’s dad took off, what did you do? You crawled home to Papa. And what did he do? He welcomed you back. That’s what good fathers