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Laurel knew what held her back. The specter of her failed marriage, and her husband’s descent into drug addiction. How could she tell Zack? She’d never told anyone about Stan. Not her parents, not her brothers, not a friend, not a support group, not even her minister. Of course, the poor man would probably faint if she and the kids showed up at church. She hadn’t set foot in a church since Stan left.
Intellectually, she knew Stan’s addiction was on him. Knew that she had nothing to be ashamed about. Nothing except her naiveté in not recognizing the problem until Stan had run through all their money. And then believing him when he promised he would get help. Believing that he even wanted to get help.
She resolved to put the issue out of her mind, at least until after work. Then, on her way to take the kids to daycare, they both hit her with: “Why can’t Uncle Zack stay with us always? We miss him.”
So do I. “Uncle Zack has his own apartment. He stayed with us because I was so sick, but I’m well now.”
“Why do you hafta be sick for Uncle Zack to live with us?” asked Cody. “Why can’t he live with us always?”
“Because we live in our apartment and Uncle Zack lives in his. He likes his apartment.”
“We could go live with him,” Katrina said.
“No we can’t. Now, we’ve talked about this enough. We don’t need to talk about it again.”
Of course, they kept talking about it until they got out of the car. “God give me patience,” she said aloud. She was ready to bang her head against the steering wheel. Worse, she knew she hadn’t heard the last of this. Cody and Katrina were nothing if not persistent.
