Just Breathe Again (5 page)

    She was thirty-seven years old, widowed, bankrupt, overweight, and living in a single wide trailer. She had two children, two jobs, and about two dollars in her bank account. She was lonely and missed someone in her bed. Missing her husband still hurt her soul. Jeannie still couldn’t imagine anyone taking Vince’s place and probably never would.  Even after two years, she cried every night for the man she loved more than anything. Jeannie feared her life would never be the same again. She was a living country song and her life couldn’t get much worse, she thought.

  It was two years ago, she lived the dream. Jeannie was a stay-at-home mom in a 4,000 square-foot home, with her biggest stress of the day being the car pool, and what to make for dinner. Lately, her biggest stress was being able to afford dinner and having enough gas to get to work and school. What a difference two years made, thought Jeannie, as she sped to Starbucks. 

   The last two years, Jeannie suffered a depression she feared would send her away to the looney bin. She didn’t think she could snap out of her utter despair, and neither did anyone else. Her friendship with her best friend, Marsha seemed to fizzle for a while. The distance had nothing to do with Marsha, she tried to stay close to Jeannie.  Jeannie was so consumed with grief she didn’t want anyone around her. Many times Marsha called and wanted to spend time with her and the kids only to have her calls ignored. Jeannie was not happy with ignoring Marsha and every day she told herself that she needed to call her, only to forget. On top of that, Jeannie was just too embarrassed of their current situation to let anyone from her past see how they were living, including Marsha.

   Like a car with no breaks going down a hill, everything happened at once. She couldn’t stop no matter how hard she tried. The accident, loss of her home, and the reality of living in poverty, took over every waking moment of Jeannie’s life. The idea her children could not have what they wanted or needed tore at her heart. Once a happy wife and mother, she was now a single, lonely, struggling mom, with no hope or happiness. She tried to keep her head together, but along with everything else in her life, her mental state suffered. Jeannie made it through the days by the skin of her teeth, if she kept busy. The nights terrified her and were endless. Not hearing his breathing or having his warm body next to hers, was impossible to tolerate, even after two years. The long talks and the steamy sex were not going to ever happen again. The despair of wanting him back was so strong she would cry and scream alone in her room until her whole body hurt.

    Praying didn’t help her, and she even quit going to mass. She and Vince attended St. Bernard’s Catholic Church and Father Dave tried to get her involved again in church activities, but Jeannie didn’t care much anymore. Everything reminded her of Vince and the life they shared. Vince loved to cook out on the grill no matter what the weather. The smell of someone cooking on a grill would send her into hysterics. The sound of a motorcycle would have her on the floor begging God to make her understand why this had to happen to them. She didn’t get an answer, so she quit asking.

~~~~~~

      Arriving at work and snapping out of her daydream, the reality of her present life hit her like a ton of bricks. Jeannie had to stop the rushing around every morning. Until recently she made her way to work on time. But, this couldn’t go on. She needed to talk to Lydia about her slow moving. Jeannie didn’t understand what the holdup was every day. Lydia was not dressing up, and looked like she didn’t care anymore. She had to call the doctor on her lunch hour, and see if they could see her.

  Her boss, Darlene Strewn, addressed her being late twice last week and would be pissed she was late again. She had to go to her office every morning to get her work assignments, and Jeannie hated to go in there.  Her dreary office reeked of Old Spice cologne and garlic.

 Darlene stuffed a cream stick in her mouth while she talked. “I’m punctual and I expect my workers to be as well. Do you see what time it is right now, Miss Franklin? I see you had time to stop and grab a coffee before strolling in here.”  Darlene was a hefty woman, and she dressed like one of the guys. She wore khaki pants, a golf shirt, and clunky men’s shoes every day. Her short crew cut hairstyle told everyone she was no one to bully or try to pull a fast one over. A lot of the guys called her the Beast Master behind her back and she had no idea.

  “I’m sorry, Darlene, I’m trying to get used to this work life and my children are snails in the morning. We are trying to adjust,” said Jeannie.

  “I understand. I expect you to make a better effort after today. We all have had deaths in the family and shit we have to deal with. My mother died last year and I didn’t miss a day. It’s something you’re going to have to fix. I mean, my God, didn’t you say he died two years ago? Get free counseling through the temp agency or go on a date, something. Would you like a donut to go with your coffee?” she asked, gesturing to a box that originally held six and was now holding one.

  “No, thank you,” Jeannie said. Darlene took her refusal as an open invitation to eat the last one and once again, in two bites as the cream seeped out her thin lips.

  Jeannie grabbed her work and began walking towards the door. “I will have a talk with my children tonight, Darlene. I will have to lay the law down on them.”

 Darlene took a swig of her coffee. “Get here on time Monday, Jeannie.” Jeannie nodded, wondering what she could do to get Lydia moving faster. She couldn’t afford to lose that job.

  Since Jeannie had no experience, she had to go to a temp agency and get skills before they placed her. She took a basic Microsoft class and brushed up on her Windows knowledge. The trucking company was the only one to hire her without experience. The place was depressing, and everyone worked there for years and looked like zombies. Each one of them looked as miserable as the next, counting the days down till Friday. Her current work situation only added to her depression and miserable life. 

   After almost ten hours of working, she ventured to the local grocery store and used her coupons to buy what little food she could afford. Every Friday, when Vince was still alive, she and Lydia liked to go out to eat for a mother and daughter weekly bonding. The electric and gas had to be paid first and there was never money left over for dinner out. It hurt her heart to think about the fact that she had no extra time for her children. She headed home in the busy rush hour traffic hoping Lydia felt better. She called and spoke to Lydia’s doctor on her lunch hour. There wasn’t an opening for a week and they advised her if things got worse to take her to the hospital.

   Slowly pulling in the driveway with food and a little money for the week, she saw Steven was there. She liked seeing his car in the driveway, knowing he was in there with Lydia.

  Walking in the stifling hot trailer, Steven was in the kitchen, cooking. He had on Jeanie’s apron and was singing something in French. Michael was sitting at the counter, watching him and laughing. 

  “Hey, Jeannie. You’re in time for hot dogs and chicken noodle soup. This meal, requested by Sir Michael Franklin. What a dinner. My, don’t you still look ravishing from this morning.” He walked over and kissed her on both cheeks. Steven took her grocery bags and put them on the counter. 

  Jeannie looked around concerned. “Thank you, Steven. Where’s Lydia?”

 “She’s asleep, Jeannie Queenie. Lydia has been sleeping since she came home. She barely made in the door before she was comatose. She’s pretty sick and needs to see a doctor. She doesn’t want to tell you,” said Steven, stirring Michael’s soup.

    Jeannie walked over and kissed Michael on the head. “Hey, Michael. How was your day?” His hair was a mess and he smelled like erasers and bubblegum.

  Michael was spinning around on the old bar stools Jeannie bought at a garage sale. “It sucked. I lost my lunch money somewhere and couldn’t eat.”

  “Why didn’t you go to the office and have them call me?” asked Jeannie.

  “I don’t know, Mom. You had enough problems this morning, being late again. I’m okay. Steven is cooking for me.” Jeannie kissed him again and gave him a squeeze.

 “You eat everything, okay?” said Jeannie. Michael nodded his head, stuffing a hotdog in his mouth. It looked like everyone’s day sucked, thought Jeannie.

  Walking down the hall and taking off her shoes, she yelled to Stephen. “I’m going to check on Lydia.” If she was going to get to her other job on time, she would have to rush to get her uniform ironed and ready.

  “You want me to make you something to eat, babe?” asked Steven.

  “No, I will get something later. Thank you though.”

  The dingy hallway was lined with pictures from happier times of their family. As she did every day, she kissed her finger and touched her favorite picture of Vince. Her husband was gorgeous with his smiling face, hair in his eyes, sitting on a tree stump. It was a picture she took right before the accident.

   Jeannie knocked on the door of the bedroom. Lydia didn’t answer. She opened the door and the familiar scent of Lydia’s raspberry body spray hit her. The bedroom windows were shut, making it hard to catch her breath in the stifling hot room.  

  “Sweetheart, it’s hot in here. Do you want me to open a window?” She walked into her room and was overcome with sadness. In Lydia’s old room she had a canopy bed, two huge dressers, a floor length mirror, and a walk in closet. The nice bedroom furniture she had at their house had to be sold, so she only had mismatched thrift store pieces. Jeannie’s bed was up against the other wall, though she slept on the couch most nights. They both shared the room with a cracked mirror hanging on a dirty wall and worn out, stained carpet. 

  Lydia didn’t flinch when her mom spoke to her. She was a light sleeper and the slightest noise usually woke her up. Jeannie walked over to her bed, stepping on various pieces of clothes on the way. 

  Trying to wake her up, she shook her shoulder. “Lydia, it’s mom.”  

   “Hey.” A muffled voice was heard.     

 “What’s wrong?” Jeannie was glad her daughter couldn’t see the concern in her face since she was facing the wall.

  “The migraines are back. I’m dizzy and I’m sick.”

   Fear that her daughter may be very ill, sent a panic in her stomach. “You haven’t had a migraine with such dizziness. We need to get you to the hospital.”

  Lydia turned over and put the covers over her head. “I don’t want to, Mom. I’ll be fine. You have to go to work.”

  Jeannie rubbed her back. “I would be relieved if we checked you out to be safe. Steven is here and he can watch Michael while I take you up there. It shouldn’t take long.”

  “Mom, you can’t afford another hospital bill, and we have no insurance,” she said. 

  Jeannie walked over and turned on the lights to get her daughter moving. “Let’s go. I’m not listening to this. When you or your brother are sick, nothing else matters. We add it to the other bills.”

  Hearing her daughter say that sent a shot of pain in her stomach. A sixteen year old should not worry about her mom’s bills, or whether she could go to the doctor or not.

  Steven walked in with Michael and they both jumped on Lydia’s bed. Steven hugged her half sleeping form, still covered up with her blankets.

  “Steven is funny, Lydia. He wore mom’s apron,” said Michael, laughing and chewing gum.

  “I’m sure he did, Buddy. Give him a dress and he will put it on too,” she said. Lydia kept her eyes shut and her voice was different.

 Michael laughed and ran out of the room yelling “Steven wears a dress.” At least Steven was there to keep him entertained.

  “Steven, please tell Lydia I should take her to the ER. Could you stay with Michael while we’re gone?” asked Jeannie.

 Steven rubbed Lydia’s back, rolling his eyes.  “God, in this hovel, I suppose, if you hurry. But seriously Lydia, let your mom take you. This is getting out of control, and I hate seeing you feeling this bad. I have nothing I would rather do than hang out with Michael tonight.” There was a hesitation and Jeannie knew she had to take matters into her own hands if Lydia refused.

  “Okay, I’ll go. If we have to wait too long, we leave.”

  Jeannie blew Steven a kiss and helped Lydia up and in the car. They kept her wrapped in a blanket and put her in the back seat. She was too weak to walk by herself and unable to sit up straight. Each bump Jeannie drove over, caused Lydia to moan and beg her mom to slow down.

  “Just hang on, Lydia. I want to get you there.” Thankfully, they lived five miles from the hospital.  A feeling of utter horror and sadness hit her as she approached the parking lot. The Emergency sign reminded her of the time she rushed to the hospital to see Vince, the day of his accident. As they pulled in to the hospital parking lot, Lydia began throwing up again. This time Lydia’s health was terrifying Jeannie. Even when Lydia became sick last year, it wasn’t this bad. 

   Jeannie said a silent prayer to her patron saint, St. Jude on a whim he might be listening. “We’re here and I will help you get in the hospital. You’re going to be okay.” As they pulled in, Lydia threw up again.

Chapter 3

T
here was vomit all over her daughter, and the car. 

  Jeannie parked out front and turned to look at her daughter. Lydia looked up at her mom with tears in her eyes. “Mom, I need help. I’m too weak to walk.”

  Jeannie turned off the car, as the engine chugged to silence. “It’s okay, baby. I will help you.”

  Stepping out of the car and putting her purse strap around her shoulder and neck, she reached in the car and picked up her daughter. It shocked her how light Lydia was as she lifted her out. Why was this the first time she noticed how much weight she had lost? Was she this detached from life?

 Jeannie swallowed back the tears so that Lydia wouldn’t hear how upset she was.  “I love you, Lydia. You’re going to be okay.” She tried to convince herself the same thing. Until walking into the hospital, she had not realized how sick her daughter might be. It had been a rough year, everything but survival took a back seat. Without her husband, she checked out of everything, including her daughter’s well-being. What had she done? She was a horrible mother to let this go on and not even realize it.