day was as fresh as it had been back then. “The other little girls had bows in their hair and cute little outfits. My hair was a tangled mess. I had dressed myself that morning in wrinkled jeans that were a size too big and a shirt that was a size too small. How about you?”
“Oh, I remember, all right, and Christmas always brings the memories to the surface, even though I don’t want to think about that time,” Kayla replied. “God could have sent a good man to marry my mama before I was born instead of my stepdad. He never let me forget that he’d done me and my mama a big favor by marrying her despite her having an ugly kid. I was supposed to be grateful that he provided a home for me and put food in my mouth. The first time he slapped me across the face was when I asked if I could have a new dress for the Christmas program at school. I was in the first grade, and the other girls were talking about what they were going to wear. He told me that I wasn’t better than his kids, and they dressed out of the free church clothes closet. Mama jumped into the battle and told me I should appreciate my daddy because he worked hard for his family.”
Teresa took a sip of her lemonade. “Mama lived with several men, and I heard the same stories. Daddy worked hard and paid the lot rent on the trailer for us that month. ‘Daddy’ was simply whoever she was sleeping with at the time. I was in maybe the third grade when I figured out that I’d had so many daddies that I couldn’t count them all on one hand. A guy came around that summer handing out invitations to Vacation Bible School and told Mama that they’d take me and bring me home in a church bus. That was my first time to go, and that’s when I decided if God really could do anything, then He must hate me a lot.”
“Ever decide that it wasn’t God’s fault?” Kayla asked.
“Workin’ on it,” Teresa answered.
“Me too, but sometimes the goin’ gets slow.” Kayla kept her eyes on what lemonade was left in her cup. “Look at us, acting like we’re in group therapy. Ever go to any of that kind of thing?”
Teresa drank down several gulps of lemonade. Did she really want to share any more? She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and said, “Yes, I did. There was a group therapy in the basement of a church that dealt with cheating and/or abusive spouses. I went a few times.”
“Did it help?” Kayla asked.
“I learned that until I got ready to admit I was an enabler for letting Luis treat me like he did, there weren’t enough sessions in the world that would help me,” Teresa answered.
“You wanted help in dealing with him, not you, right?” Kayla asked.
“Sounds like you went to a few sessions, too,” Teresa said.
Kayla shook her head. “Not me, but one of the girls I worked with did, and she told me about it. She thought if she went to therapy, she could figure out a way to change him. I kept telling her that it wouldn’t work.”
“What happened?” Teresa asked.
“He left her for another woman. Maybe he was kin to Luis,” Kayla replied. “And then she took up with another man as bad or worse than that guy. We are who we are, Teresa, and we have to want to change that a whole lot to ever get through it or around it.”
“How bad do you want to change?” Teresa asked.
“I’ll ask you the same question,” Kayla shot back at her.
“That’s complicated.”
“Damn straight it is.” Kayla did a head wiggle. “Maybe what we need to change is our choices and our circumstances. Think God will be kinder to us if we do that?”
“Well, we’ve got a chance to do both if we stick around here,” Teresa agreed. “Maybe that old saying about God helping folks who help themselves will apply.”
Kayla finished off her lemonade and pushed her chair back. “I’m willin’ to test that theory. I guess there ain’t nowhere to go but up from here.”
“Yep.” Teresa did the same and carried both their glasses to the dishwasher. “Thanks for the therapy session.”
“Thank Miss Janie.” Kayla headed out of the room and then turned around. “She’s the one who brought up the subject and got