Hope's Last Chance Read online

  Tonight my husband will sleep soundly. He always does after we’ve made love. He’ll hold me until it gets too hot. Sometimes we get up in the middle of the night and have a little repeat performance. I’ll wake up sore, but appreciate the reason behind it.

  It takes a little while before we speak. He holds me close with his arms around my naked back. “I’m surprised we didn’t wake Faith.”

  “She was exhausted after playing all afternoon and then the drive back. She fell asleep around seven. I’m hoping she sleeps all night, but we both know she’ll probably end up in bed with us at some point.”

  “Is this your way of telling me I need to put some clothes on?”

  I shake my head and let out an air-filled laugh. “No. I’d never ask that of you.”

  “Good,” he says with a squeeze of my ass.

  It’s quiet again. I’m suddenly overwhelmed with worry. “What are you thinking?”

  He shrugs and kisses the top of my head. “My mind is all over the place. I know I have a drinking problem, but the idea of not being able to stop on my own scares the shit out of me. I feel like I want to try it on my own, but then something happens and all I want to do is go out and grab a six pack, or a few shots at the bar.”

  “All I care about is that you’re going to do whatever it takes to kick this. I’ll be by your side every step of the way. This needs to happen, Chance. For the sake of our future, your career, and your health.”

  “I know, baby. I know.”

  “Do you want to go to a meeting tomorrow? I’ll come with you.”

  He wipes his face and seems disturbed. “People might recognize me.”

  He’s right. “You could wear a wig,” I suggest.

  “A wig? Do you expect me to pull off a Donald Trump style or dreadlocks?”

  “Either or,” I manage to say with a giggle.

  Then he gets serious again. “Look, I’ll admit my drinking has gotten out of control and I need help to be able to stop for good, but asking me to go to a meeting is like me saying I want to go on the five o’clock news to announce I’m an addict. I’m supposed to be a role model to young kids. What if one of their fathers are in the group? What if my poster hangs on their son’s bedroom wall? What kind of role model would I be then? I’ve already been demoted from the team. Please don’t force me to lose my dignity as well.”

  I trace my fingers over a small patch of hair on his chest. “I didn’t think of it that way. It’s supposed to be anonymous.”

  “Well, nothing is anonymous when you’re on television. Don’t worry though. I’m supposed to hear from the medical facility tomorrow. If I need to go away and get better I’m going to do it. I know what we just experienced doesn’t mean you’ve forgiven me. You can love and be disgusted with a person at the same time.”

  “I just want you to get better. It’s an illness. Your sister said your father was a heavy drinker. Maybe it’s not even you fault.”

  He shrugs again. “I made the choices to get myself here.”

  “Chance, you’re under a ton of pressure with what you do for a living. I don’t blame you for wanting to take the edge off every night.”

  “I do. I should have been able to handle it myself. I suppose it’s always been my way of coping. I drink to forget. It’s temporary, but it’s always seemed to work. I just never realized what it would cost me if I let it get out of hand.”

  “I hope you mean that, Chance. I want us to be together. Our marriage isn’t perfect. We’ve had to struggle and be apart a lot. It’s not fair, but we all have to make sacrifices for the people we love.”

  He hugs me tightly and kisses the top of my head. As we begin to fall asleep I pray this time will be different. I ask for guidance and patience to see him through this obstacle, and strength to be the support he’s going to need. I don’t know if this will work. I have no clue whether another move will tear us apart. I can’t promise our marriage will survive, but I promise not to go down without a fight.

  Chapter 12

  Three days after my life came crashing down, I’m standing in front of a private facility that will help me recover from being an alcoholic. Hope was right about me needing professional help. After promising her I’d never take a drink again, I ended up sneaking a beer I found in the garage refrigerator. One taste and I had to have more. We ended up having a huge falling out where she took Faith and went to stay at her father’s house. I half expected her to stay there until she knew I was gone, but was surprised when I discovered she returned the next day, without our daughter. We had another heart to heart, where she laid down the law for me one final time.

  Before I can go inside and make the change for the better, I close my eyes and recall everything that transpired between us the previous night, and the threats I know she’s going to keep if I break another promise.

  She didn’t know I’d been drinking at first. She was cleaning the house, listening to music with headphones on. I tinkered around outside, mowing the lawn and then edging the sidewalks. It wasn’t until she brought me out something cold to drink when she noticed the empty cans and proceeded to smell my breath.

  The look in her eyes is an image that I think I’ve burned into my brain. I’ve never seen her so devastated and hurt before. Immediately she began to cry, her words hard to make out. “How could you do this? You couldn’t even go a few days, Chance. You promised. You said you’d change to save our marriage. This proves to me that you’re incapable of keeping your promises. I told you I wouldn’t stand by and watch you ruin our lives. I think it’s best if I take Faith and go.”

  I follow her into the house, where she proceeds to pack a few things. Faith, unknowing that we’re fighting, asks if we can go to the park. After pretending everything is fine and convincing her to watch her favorite show for a while, I manage to corner Hope in the master bedroom closet. She’s sitting on the floor sobbing.

  I take the spot across from her and just watch as she falls apart. Once again I’ve destroyed the person that’s supposed to mean everything to me. I’m a prick. I’m a loser. I’m nothing she needs or wants anymore. I’m worthless. I’m a drunk.

  With nothing but irrefutable evidence of my addiction, I watch as she gets up and exits the space. Maybe I should have followed her, but it wouldn’t have done much good. Her trust was gone. Just like that, I’d ruined my marriage.

  It’s easy to feel sorry for one’s self when no one else is around, but it’s only a matter of time before excuses come with little positive result. I’m alone now. My wife can’t be around me. She’s never going to let me see Faith in my condition. I’m about to be transferred to the minors and probably raped of any chance of returning to the majors because of my current condition.

  That night I drowned my sorrows in an entire bottle of Jack Daniels. I drank until I couldn’t feel my limbs. I drank until my marriage didn’t exist. I drank until I didn’t know my own name.

  Much to my dismay I woke to find Hope sitting on the bed next to me. I was still face down, drool all over the top of the bedding where I’d apparently passed out. She refused to look at me when she spoke, but I recall watching the ring being pulled from her finger, and the way it felt when she reached over and sat it on the pillow beside me. “Faith and I won’t be going with you when you’re transferred.”

  That’s all she said before getting up and walking out of the room.

  I thought I’d already hit rock bottom. I assumed it couldn’t get any worse. We’d made love. She’s let me hold her. We’d talked. Then I’d made promises and broken them. She’d given up so much for me, while I’d done nothing to thank her. I’ve made my wife miserable. She’s lost and alone. She feels like she failed me, when I’m the one who failed her.

  I’m not an emotional man, but the thought of losing my girls broke me. I’ve never cried like the night when she gave me back her ring. I know it’s just a material piece of jewelry, but it symbolizes our commitment; the one she’s adamant to let go of.

&nb
sp; I deserve this. I most certainly don’t deserve her.

  For the next twenty four hours I didn’t move from the bed. I had moments where I broke down and could barely breathe. I’d weep until my eyes burned and my body forced me to sleep it off. Then I’ll wake and repeat the process over and over.

  I tried to call Hope, my sister, and even Mark, but none of them would take my calls.

  Then I remembered what it was like before Hope came into my life. I recalled what it felt like to be alone each and every day, to not have someone to come home to, or share my life with. I can’t go through that again. I won’t.

  So here I am, prepared to enter this facility and remain there until they can fix what I’ve fucked up. I’ve tried to reach Hope and ended up leaving her a message telling her this is where I’d be, but she never returned the call. I need to learn how to live my life without booze. It seems easy to those who have never been addicted to something, but I’m telling you it’s a tough habit to kick. It’s funny, I always said I’d never do drugs, but alcohol has become just as bad for me.

  I’m here because I need someone to validate my problem. I’m here because I have nowhere left to go, and absolutely nothing left to lose.

  I’m walking up the steps before I hear her voice, like a ray of sunshine on a rainy day. I spin around and see her standing there against our vehicle at the far end of the parking lot. My throat tightens as I become overwhelmed by emotions. She’s here, standing nearly fifty yards away. My eyes begin to sting as the realization hits me. “You came.”

  She smiles and shrugs. “I had to see it with my own eyes.”

  I’m walking toward her, determined to feel her arms around me one last time before I take this journey. “Don’t act so shocked.”

  “Sorry. I can’t help it.”

  We’re face to face now, my hands in my pockets, juggling around change. I peer down at her hand and notice it’s still naked. It’s like a kick to the gut, a knife driving through my heart.

  Before I break down in front of her, I find the courage to take out my hands and grab both of her arms, in order to keep her from walking away. “I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust. I know I’ve said it before. I’ve failed us. I just want you to know this. I love you more than the booze. I’m going to prove it you. Don’t you dare give up me, Hope.” When I say it I start losing my composure. “I’m going to need a ride home when this is over.”

  Now she’s crying, tears pouring down her face, her makeup running. “I hate that you’re going through this alone.”

  I cup her face and smile as my forehead leans on hers. “I’m not. I have my two girls counting on me. This time I won’t screw it up.”

  “Okay.” It’s all she says.

  “I guess I need to get in there.”

  I want her to refuse to let go, but she doesn’t. While still crying, Hope turns and heads back to her vehicle. She’s too distraught to drive, and knowing her she’ll stay parked until she can calm down. For me it’s different. My future depends on me rushing toward those doors. It’s time to get the party going.

  Chapter 13

  One week ago Chance checked himself into a private facility where he would receive help with addiction. Due to regulations, we’ve been unable to speak or have any communication. I knew this would be difficult for my husband, but never imagined I’d have such a hard time with it.

  We’ve been apart before, but never where we couldn’t call each other. Faith keeps asking where her daddy is, and I find it funny because when he calls her out on the road she never seems to want to talk to him.

  While I can only hope Chance is making progress and learning how to live his life without the need for alcohol, I’m getting my annual pap, and then headed back home where I’ve started packing up some things we rarely use. It will make it easier when the time comes to move, wherever we’re headed I don’t know.

  Just like every year, I undress and sit on the paper covered examination table waiting to be violated in the name of health. The nurse comes in first asking me all sorts of questions, including the usual. “Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

  I shrug. I suppose there is always a chance, but we’ve been careful, me being on the pill, and almost always remembering to take it at the same time every night. There have been a few times I missed it. Things happen. When it’s late and we’ve been at my father’s house sometimes we spend the night. “I don’t think so, but…”

  “We’ll test the urine you provided us with. Anything you’d like me to pass along to the doctor before she comes in to talk to you?”

  I shake my head. This place is uncomfortable. Like I said before, I’m only trying to maintain my health and prolong my life. I don’t enjoy coming here and I certainly don’t want to stay for long periods of time.

  While I wait for the doctor, for what I swear is nearly an hour, I play on my phone, searching properties and even schools for Faith. She’ll need to go to preschool next year and I want to make sure the registration hasn’t passed in either possible town we could be transferred to.

  Finally, the doctor surfaces. She’s wearing her normal white coat with a few pens sticking out from the pocket. Her stethoscope wraps around her neck even on both sides. I peer down at the prepared forceps and lubrication. In a few seconds I’ll be asked to spread my legs and relax. It’s ridiculous for a doctor to ask that, especially when the patient knows exactly what’s coming.

  Except she doesn’t say it. She goes right to my abdomen and begins feeling around. “How have you been, Hope? Any morning sickness?”

  I sit straight up. “What?”

  “I assumed you knew. Your pregnancy test came up positive. When was your last period?”

  I should know this answer. “Last month maybe. It’s possible I might have missed it. Things are stressful at home.”

  “Well, I’m afraid to tell you that you just added another responsibility to that filled plate of yours. I’m going to estimate that you’re around five weeks, but we’ll be able to determine it further with an ultrasound. I’ll give you a referral to have one done in the next week or so.”

  My stomach knots up and I immediately feel queasy. This can’t be happening. Chance is going through hell. We’re about to be uprooted. We’re having marriage problems. This is the worst time to bring a child into this world, yet it’s happening and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’d never have an abortion or consider someone else raising my child because times get tough. God only gives us what we can handle. I have to believe that. I didn’t always have faith in my heart. For a while I thought God failed me, especially when he took my mother away. With the help and guidance of my husband, I’ve learned to forgive and accept what can’t be changed. This new hurdle is a gift, and I’ll treasure it to the best of my ability.

  My exam is easier than I expected. In no time at all I’m out of there and on the way home, with news I’m not sure I’m ready to share with anyone.

  I make a call to Buffy to ask if she’s able to keep Faith a little longer. Of course she offers to keep her overnight, and as much as I’d love to take advantage of the break, I know being alone right now will only make life suck a little more.

  Since Chance has his first visitation in one more day I’m more anxious than ever. I’m not sure if it’s the right time to tell him the news. Keeping a secret from the man I love is difficult, but necessary. It’s important he stays focused on learning to control and live life to the fullest.

  I spend the next several hours contemplating how this will all work out. Our life is about to change, and now I’ve added even more to our pile of struggles. The last thing I want is for Chance to get out and find another reason to pick up drinking again. Fearing that makes me wish I could keep the pregnancy a secret until the day I deliver, but I know that’s impossible.

  I consider living life separately. Maybe if I didn’t go with him when he’s transferred he’d have a better shot at seeing if he can abstain. I feel like a test i
s necessary before I slam him with another obstacle.

  When it comes time to pick up Faith my conscience is getting in the way of being able to make a smart decision, so I know I have no other choice but to confide in Buffy.

  We’re sitting outside enjoying the cool evening when I bring up the matter. “So I went to the doctor today for a checkup and found out I’m pregnant again.”

  “What?” She chippers right up. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in months.”

  “I wish it was. Don’t you think it will stress Chance out more? I can’t seem to feel like this couldn’t have happened at a more worse time. We aren’t prepared for this. Too much is going on.”

  “You can’t think like that. I wish I could have a baby, Hope.”

  “I didn’t say I wanted to do something drastic, I’m just wondering if I should keep the news of the pregnancy from Chance for a little while.” I hold my finger up when she tries to cut in. “Hold on. Before you get all protective over your brother I need you to put yourself in my shoes. Chance can’t relapse. He needs positivity when he gets out of the facility, not another mouth to worry about feeding. I’m considering letting him make the move without us, at least at first. I want him to prove he can handle it before I add more.”

  “He’d be devastated if you didn’t go.”

  “I would too, but I’d be doing this for us, for our kids. I need to know he can change, Buffy. He needs a purpose.”

  “You are his purpose. You always have been.”

  I shake my head. “I haven’t been for a while. That’s why we’re in this situation. Look, I’m not going to beg you to keep my secret, but I want you to understand that if I decide to stay back, it’s not because I want to hurt your brother. I need to think about the children. As much as I love Chance, the kids always have to come first.”