Hot, heavy tears zigzagged down Irene's cheeks. She cried so hard her
chest heaved as though she were gasping for air. She couldn't stop the
horrible memories flooding through her mind one at a time; the pain
suffocated her.
Amy Madison was quickly at her side with a box of tissues. She put both arms around Irene and held her close as a mother would her suffering child. "It'll be all right," she whispered as she stroked Irene's hair. She sat for twenty minutes comforting Irene until Irene's tears finally subsided.
"I'm sorry," Irene sniffed.
"Don't apologize, dear," Amy replied in a soft voice. "Whatever is inside of you must be terribly painful. I'm not prying, Irene, but I just want you to know if you ever need a friend to talk to, I'm a good listener."
Irene took a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. "I don't usually break down like this." She took a long, shuddering breath. "I've just been under so much stress lately."
"Irene, I won't lie to you," she began slowly, "but these walls are very thin in this building. I, as well as several others, have heard what goes on in your apartment," she said frankly.
Irene's face flushed. "I . . . I don't know what to say." She had to say something. Amy had just admitted that their fights were known throughout the building. If she kept her silence, then Amy might think that Irene was the cause of her and Alexander's problems. "Amy, things aren't always as they seem."
Amy could see the pain in Irene's eyes. She silently prayed that Irene would trust her. For two long years she had watched the pretty, young woman struggle with loneliness. She saw it in Irene's eyes every time they happened to pass one another. And she saw it in the shy smile Irene would offer. She had told her husband, Bill, so many times that if someone didn't intervene, something horrible would happen in the Copeland apartment. The arguments were growing more frequent and more intense. She was surprised no one had ever called the police, but like Bill said, why bring more trouble on the Copelands. Amy patted Irene's arm. "You don't have to say anything. Just know that I am always here if you need me."
Irene sighed tiredly. "I can't take it anymore," she blurted out. "My husband and I are having problems. We went to a marriage counselor and I was hoping it would work, but I was set up." Her words came out in a rush and she knew she probably made no sense.
"Irene, every marriage has its own problems. It takes a lot of time and effort to make a marriage work especially in these times," she said.
"No, this is different. I can't do anything to please Alexander. He finds fault with everything." Her eyes brimmed with tears again.
"Does he forbid you to have friends?" Amy asked.
Her eyes narrowed. "He doesn't like me to get close to anyone. He says that people will just cause problems between us."
"But, Irene, everybody needs someone to lean on. You can't isolate yourself," Amy reasoned.
"That's the point," Irene explained. "Every time I try to get close to anyone, Alexander ruins the friendship." A tear slid down her cheek. "I'm so lonely, Amy. And I'm scared."
Amy patted Irene's arm. "I'll be your friend, Irene."
"But Alexander will be furious if he finds out I'm talking to you."
Amy sensed Irene's fear and loneliness. "We won't let him find out," she said.
"I shouldn't have to sneak around to have a friend. No one else has to. For years I've watched friends doing things together and I've felt so left out." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "When we moved here I thought that finally he would let me have a friend since this building holds so many apartments. But he warned me not to get involved. You don't know how hard it is for me day after day to come outside and work on my garden and watch everyone pull up chairs and visit." She was sobbing now. "And when you invited me in for coffee," she was gulping now, "I wanted so desperately to visit you, but I was too afraid of what Alexander would do."
Amy's heart ached for Irene. She looked into Irene's red-swollen eyes, then at the cast on her arm and the faint bruises on her cheek and other arm. "Irene, can I ask you a very personal question? You don't have to answer me if you don't want to."
"What is it?" Irene whispered.
"Your bruises . . . did Alexander cause them? Remember the first time we talked and you told me you bumped into the kitchen cupboard? And then when you broke your arm you said that you slipped on the kitchen floor."
Irene lowered her eyes.
"Did your husband do that to you?"
She let out a moan as though she had been wounded. "Please don't tell anyone. You don't know Alexander's temper."
"I won't say anything," she quickly reassured her. "I only want to help you." She patted her arm. "What about your family, Irene? Have you told them anything? Can't they offer you some emotional support?"
She took a deep breath. "My mother passed away some time ago. I have several brothers and sisters, but we are not a close family. They have their own lives and problems. And Alexander made it known after our marriage that they were not welcome in our home." She frowned. "Alexander is very possessive. He can do whatever he wants when he wants, but if I want to do something, he accuses me of not caring for him. Over a period of time, I gave up my friends and everything I liked to do. Then he became jealous that I was spending too much time with my mother. But the ironic thing is that he spends as much time with his family as he wants to and I'm supposed to keep quiet and not interfere in his life."
"That's not a normal relationship, Irene," Amy said, as her mind tried to comprehend the hell Irene must be enduring each day with no relief in sight. This woman needed help badly if she were to survive much longer. "How does his family treat you?" Amy asked.
"Not well. His mother is jealous of me." She watched Amy's eyebrows rise. "I know it sounds strange," she explained, "but it's the truth. It's almost as though she wants him just for herself. She caused problems for us, but Alexander will not admit it. He will defend his mother with his life." She sighed. "I tried so hard to form a relationship with her, but she is so cold to me and my daughters. She showers Stephan with gifts in front of the girls and lets them know in subtle ways that she will never accept them as her step-grandchildren. It makes my blood run cold. She will not allow the girls to call her grandmother, but my own mother always referred to Stephan as her grandson. She never slighted him. Mrs. Copeland started some vicious rumors about me and Alexander, of course, believed her. I swore to him none of it was true, but he refused to believe that his mother would lie even though she couldn't prove her allegations against me. It was about that time he started abusing me. He told our pastor and our church family his mother's lies. People started turning away from me. He got his way. He always does. He made me totally dependent on him."
Amy shook her head in wonder. "You said earlier that you and your husband went to a marriage counselor. How did that go?"
"It didn't. It was a waste of time. Alexander lied to me again. He set me up and the counselor accused me of things I never did." She wrung her hands. "Oh, Amy, this must sound crazy to you. You must be thinking that I'm some sort of nut."
"On the contrary," Amy Madison answered. "There are more women than you think, Irene, in your situation. Like you, they too are victimized. Some of them stay in marriages that are abusive for their entire lives . . . virtual prisoners in their own homes."
"I probably shouldn't have told you as much as I did," she said nervously.
"I'm glad you did, Irene. It's not healthy to keep it all bottled up inside." She patted Irene's hand. "You still haven't answered my question . . . did Alexander cause your injuries?"
"Yes." She began to cry again.
Irene hurried into the apartment and over to the ringing telephone. "Hello," she breathlessly said.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Copeland. I'm Mrs. Moseman. I'm a counselor at the high school. I've had a talk with your daughters, Serena and Lita, and I would like to speak to you." Her voice was friendly.
"They aren't in any trouble, are they?" she asked nervously.
"No . . . no, we had a nice visit and they mentioned a couple of things I'd like to discuss with you. Would it be possible for you to come down to the school this afternoon?"
"Sure. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Amy Madison was quickly at her side with a box of tissues. She put both arms around Irene and held her close as a mother would her suffering child. "It'll be all right," she whispered as she stroked Irene's hair. She sat for twenty minutes comforting Irene until Irene's tears finally subsided.
"I'm sorry," Irene sniffed.
"Don't apologize, dear," Amy replied in a soft voice. "Whatever is inside of you must be terribly painful. I'm not prying, Irene, but I just want you to know if you ever need a friend to talk to, I'm a good listener."
Irene took a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. "I don't usually break down like this." She took a long, shuddering breath. "I've just been under so much stress lately."
"Irene, I won't lie to you," she began slowly, "but these walls are very thin in this building. I, as well as several others, have heard what goes on in your apartment," she said frankly.
Irene's face flushed. "I . . . I don't know what to say." She had to say something. Amy had just admitted that their fights were known throughout the building. If she kept her silence, then Amy might think that Irene was the cause of her and Alexander's problems. "Amy, things aren't always as they seem."
Amy could see the pain in Irene's eyes. She silently prayed that Irene would trust her. For two long years she had watched the pretty, young woman struggle with loneliness. She saw it in Irene's eyes every time they happened to pass one another. And she saw it in the shy smile Irene would offer. She had told her husband, Bill, so many times that if someone didn't intervene, something horrible would happen in the Copeland apartment. The arguments were growing more frequent and more intense. She was surprised no one had ever called the police, but like Bill said, why bring more trouble on the Copelands. Amy patted Irene's arm. "You don't have to say anything. Just know that I am always here if you need me."
Irene sighed tiredly. "I can't take it anymore," she blurted out. "My husband and I are having problems. We went to a marriage counselor and I was hoping it would work, but I was set up." Her words came out in a rush and she knew she probably made no sense.
"Irene, every marriage has its own problems. It takes a lot of time and effort to make a marriage work especially in these times," she said.
"No, this is different. I can't do anything to please Alexander. He finds fault with everything." Her eyes brimmed with tears again.
"Does he forbid you to have friends?" Amy asked.
Her eyes narrowed. "He doesn't like me to get close to anyone. He says that people will just cause problems between us."
"But, Irene, everybody needs someone to lean on. You can't isolate yourself," Amy reasoned.
"That's the point," Irene explained. "Every time I try to get close to anyone, Alexander ruins the friendship." A tear slid down her cheek. "I'm so lonely, Amy. And I'm scared."
Amy patted Irene's arm. "I'll be your friend, Irene."
"But Alexander will be furious if he finds out I'm talking to you."
Amy sensed Irene's fear and loneliness. "We won't let him find out," she said.
"I shouldn't have to sneak around to have a friend. No one else has to. For years I've watched friends doing things together and I've felt so left out." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "When we moved here I thought that finally he would let me have a friend since this building holds so many apartments. But he warned me not to get involved. You don't know how hard it is for me day after day to come outside and work on my garden and watch everyone pull up chairs and visit." She was sobbing now. "And when you invited me in for coffee," she was gulping now, "I wanted so desperately to visit you, but I was too afraid of what Alexander would do."
Amy's heart ached for Irene. She looked into Irene's red-swollen eyes, then at the cast on her arm and the faint bruises on her cheek and other arm. "Irene, can I ask you a very personal question? You don't have to answer me if you don't want to."
"What is it?" Irene whispered.
"Your bruises . . . did Alexander cause them? Remember the first time we talked and you told me you bumped into the kitchen cupboard? And then when you broke your arm you said that you slipped on the kitchen floor."
Irene lowered her eyes.
"Did your husband do that to you?"
She let out a moan as though she had been wounded. "Please don't tell anyone. You don't know Alexander's temper."
"I won't say anything," she quickly reassured her. "I only want to help you." She patted her arm. "What about your family, Irene? Have you told them anything? Can't they offer you some emotional support?"
She took a deep breath. "My mother passed away some time ago. I have several brothers and sisters, but we are not a close family. They have their own lives and problems. And Alexander made it known after our marriage that they were not welcome in our home." She frowned. "Alexander is very possessive. He can do whatever he wants when he wants, but if I want to do something, he accuses me of not caring for him. Over a period of time, I gave up my friends and everything I liked to do. Then he became jealous that I was spending too much time with my mother. But the ironic thing is that he spends as much time with his family as he wants to and I'm supposed to keep quiet and not interfere in his life."
"That's not a normal relationship, Irene," Amy said, as her mind tried to comprehend the hell Irene must be enduring each day with no relief in sight. This woman needed help badly if she were to survive much longer. "How does his family treat you?" Amy asked.
"Not well. His mother is jealous of me." She watched Amy's eyebrows rise. "I know it sounds strange," she explained, "but it's the truth. It's almost as though she wants him just for herself. She caused problems for us, but Alexander will not admit it. He will defend his mother with his life." She sighed. "I tried so hard to form a relationship with her, but she is so cold to me and my daughters. She showers Stephan with gifts in front of the girls and lets them know in subtle ways that she will never accept them as her step-grandchildren. It makes my blood run cold. She will not allow the girls to call her grandmother, but my own mother always referred to Stephan as her grandson. She never slighted him. Mrs. Copeland started some vicious rumors about me and Alexander, of course, believed her. I swore to him none of it was true, but he refused to believe that his mother would lie even though she couldn't prove her allegations against me. It was about that time he started abusing me. He told our pastor and our church family his mother's lies. People started turning away from me. He got his way. He always does. He made me totally dependent on him."
Amy shook her head in wonder. "You said earlier that you and your husband went to a marriage counselor. How did that go?"
"It didn't. It was a waste of time. Alexander lied to me again. He set me up and the counselor accused me of things I never did." She wrung her hands. "Oh, Amy, this must sound crazy to you. You must be thinking that I'm some sort of nut."
"On the contrary," Amy Madison answered. "There are more women than you think, Irene, in your situation. Like you, they too are victimized. Some of them stay in marriages that are abusive for their entire lives . . . virtual prisoners in their own homes."
"I probably shouldn't have told you as much as I did," she said nervously.
"I'm glad you did, Irene. It's not healthy to keep it all bottled up inside." She patted Irene's hand. "You still haven't answered my question . . . did Alexander cause your injuries?"
"Yes." She began to cry again.
Irene hurried into the apartment and over to the ringing telephone. "Hello," she breathlessly said.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Copeland. I'm Mrs. Moseman. I'm a counselor at the high school. I've had a talk with your daughters, Serena and Lita, and I would like to speak to you." Her voice was friendly.
"They aren't in any trouble, are they?" she asked nervously.
"No . . . no, we had a nice visit and they mentioned a couple of things I'd like to discuss with you. Would it be possible for you to come down to the school this afternoon?"
"Sure. I'll be there as soon as I can."