Brigit's Flame Entry December Week 2: CHAOS
I'm not really happy with this, but it's getting close to the deadline, so I'm submitting it anyway.
It had been remarkably easy to get a job, even after 17 years of being a stay-at-home mom. Marissa was in second grade, and the situation at home had disintegrated into a war zone.
The major reason was the chronic arguing, which had often, even since the early years of the marriage, carried violent overtones. She had never told that to anyone, not even her sister Esther, to whom she talked several times a week. In a strange sort of role reversal, the younger Esther talked Sarah through her life's challenges, imparting wisdom and advice merged with affectionate acceptance. Esther's life wasn't problem free; however, she didn't have the constant array of emotional crises that invaded Sarah's existence. Esther knew how to manage. She had common sense and a natural ability to see things clearly and know how to react to them. And she had a solid marriage to David. Esther claimed that a good marriage had a lot to do with luck, as she and David had only known each other for 6 months before the wedding. Sarah knew better. Esther just had what it took to lead a rewarding life. Sarah mired herself in trauma, usually self-induced in some fashion. Like marrying a man she didn't really love and expecting it to bring her happiness.
The battle typically began when she and the kids heard the garage door rise close to 6:00 PM, indicating Rodger was home. Sarah made sure she was in the kitchen making something for dinner. Cameron, at fifteen the most moody and sensitive of the five, would begin quickly clearing as many toys, coats, and random dishes from the family room floras he could manage in a few minutes. Simon, Maria, and Jeremy simply took to the stairs to get out of the way of any impending verbal onslaught. And Marissa flew to the door with her engaging manner calling, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Sarah termed the entire procedure “Operation Battlestations.”
Tonight Sarah was simmering with surprised excitement. She had had a job interview that afternoon, after a rapid response to her hastily-thrown-together resume which contained, she thought, a lot of padding. As she had left her last real job 17 years earlier, recent experience consisted of volunteer work at school, and her two year tenure as the Director of the parish's Vacation Bible School. Sarah had nominally been the director, but had received so much help she felt guilty taking credit for it. But she had listed it anyway, hoping it would add some substance to what she considered a rather pathetic list. She had apparently pulled it off, however. The interview for the part time job at the television station had gone very well, with the interviewer telling her that she had a remarkable resume and that her type of experience was just what they were looking for in the position. Sarah left the interview with the assurance she had the job.
Now she only had to tell Rodger.
As she was cutting the potatoes for the stew, Rodger opened the door from the garage to the kitchen, nearly tripping over Marissa who was standing there waiting for him to enter, poised for a hug. He stiffly patted her shoulder, shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the kitchen chair, a habit which Sarah detested.
"Hi," she said. "Dinner will be ready pretty soon."
"What is it?" Rodger asked as he opened the refrigerator door for a beer.
"Beef stew."
Rodger grimaced and sighed. His sighs were often mimicked by the kids, they were so exaggerated. He had raised sighing to the level of an art form. "Damn it!' he added.
"I made stew because it's one of the meals you like," Sarah offered in an attempt to placate.
"You made it on the wrong fucking night." Rodger answered, his voice tight and threatening.
Sarah was pretty sure the only reason the stew wasn't dumped into the sink was because he was afraid to touch the rattling pressure cooker. She decided this was not the moment to tell him about her job. Rodger didn't like changes. She wouldn't be getting off work until 6:00, which meant she wouldn't be able to start dinner until late, unless one of the older kids would do it. Maybe she could talk Cameron into it. Of course, since Rodger rarely liked anything she made, maybe her late hours wouldn't pose that much of a difficulty. She could hope.
Then again, getting a job was really her first step towards getting out of this marriage. She needed to concentrate on that, and not worry about Rodger's reaction. Several weeks earlier, before Christmas, Simon and Maria had called her into Simon's room. It had been one of Rodger's ranting nights when he had verbally attacked one child, then another. Simon and Jeremy usually took the brunt of it, yelling back and him and risking the possibility of physical retaliation. The kids had taken to the stairs quickly after dinner, leaving Sarah to face the verbal onslaught alone. She had tried almost every tactic she could think of, from ignoring him to screaming back, but nothing worked. Instead, she'd had plates of food thrown at her, her top ripped, a book she was trying to read instead of responding to him torn apart. On this particular evening, Sarah bolted upstairs after the children, saying she had to run a bath for Marissa. She found all of them huddled in Simon's room, and when she entered 17 year old Simon spoke up.
"Mom, we can't take this anymore."
Sarah looked around. Maria was curled up on Simon's bed, crying. She had lately been complaining of constant stomach aches. "You need to get us out of here," Maria added.
Sarah sat down on the bed and pulled Maria close. She looked around at her battle weary children. "I'll talk to a lawyer," she had said.
After that evening, the plan went relatively smoothly. She had talked to a lawyer, and decided to find a job. Steps one and two were accomplished. Step three was actually filing the papers. That would be the scariest step, the one that would take her to the brink of the unknown.
It had been remarkably easy to get a job, even after 17 years of being a stay-at-home mom. Marissa was in second grade, and the situation at home had disintegrated into a war zone.
The major reason was the chronic arguing, which had often, even since the early years of the marriage, carried violent overtones. She had never told that to anyone, not even her sister Esther, to whom she talked several times a week. In a strange sort of role reversal, the younger Esther talked Sarah through her life's challenges, imparting wisdom and advice merged with affectionate acceptance. Esther's life wasn't problem free; however, she didn't have the constant array of emotional crises that invaded Sarah's existence. Esther knew how to manage. She had common sense and a natural ability to see things clearly and know how to react to them. And she had a solid marriage to David. Esther claimed that a good marriage had a lot to do with luck, as she and David had only known each other for 6 months before the wedding. Sarah knew better. Esther just had what it took to lead a rewarding life. Sarah mired herself in trauma, usually self-induced in some fashion. Like marrying a man she didn't really love and expecting it to bring her happiness.
The battle typically began when she and the kids heard the garage door rise close to 6:00 PM, indicating Rodger was home. Sarah made sure she was in the kitchen making something for dinner. Cameron, at fifteen the most moody and sensitive of the five, would begin quickly clearing as many toys, coats, and random dishes from the family room floras he could manage in a few minutes. Simon, Maria, and Jeremy simply took to the stairs to get out of the way of any impending verbal onslaught. And Marissa flew to the door with her engaging manner calling, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Sarah termed the entire procedure “Operation Battlestations.”
Tonight Sarah was simmering with surprised excitement. She had had a job interview that afternoon, after a rapid response to her hastily-thrown-together resume which contained, she thought, a lot of padding. As she had left her last real job 17 years earlier, recent experience consisted of volunteer work at school, and her two year tenure as the Director of the parish's Vacation Bible School. Sarah had nominally been the director, but had received so much help she felt guilty taking credit for it. But she had listed it anyway, hoping it would add some substance to what she considered a rather pathetic list. She had apparently pulled it off, however. The interview for the part time job at the television station had gone very well, with the interviewer telling her that she had a remarkable resume and that her type of experience was just what they were looking for in the position. Sarah left the interview with the assurance she had the job.
Now she only had to tell Rodger.
As she was cutting the potatoes for the stew, Rodger opened the door from the garage to the kitchen, nearly tripping over Marissa who was standing there waiting for him to enter, poised for a hug. He stiffly patted her shoulder, shrugged out of his coat and draped it over the kitchen chair, a habit which Sarah detested.
"Hi," she said. "Dinner will be ready pretty soon."
"What is it?" Rodger asked as he opened the refrigerator door for a beer.
"Beef stew."
Rodger grimaced and sighed. His sighs were often mimicked by the kids, they were so exaggerated. He had raised sighing to the level of an art form. "Damn it!' he added.
"I made stew because it's one of the meals you like," Sarah offered in an attempt to placate.
"You made it on the wrong fucking night." Rodger answered, his voice tight and threatening.
Sarah was pretty sure the only reason the stew wasn't dumped into the sink was because he was afraid to touch the rattling pressure cooker. She decided this was not the moment to tell him about her job. Rodger didn't like changes. She wouldn't be getting off work until 6:00, which meant she wouldn't be able to start dinner until late, unless one of the older kids would do it. Maybe she could talk Cameron into it. Of course, since Rodger rarely liked anything she made, maybe her late hours wouldn't pose that much of a difficulty. She could hope.
Then again, getting a job was really her first step towards getting out of this marriage. She needed to concentrate on that, and not worry about Rodger's reaction. Several weeks earlier, before Christmas, Simon and Maria had called her into Simon's room. It had been one of Rodger's ranting nights when he had verbally attacked one child, then another. Simon and Jeremy usually took the brunt of it, yelling back and him and risking the possibility of physical retaliation. The kids had taken to the stairs quickly after dinner, leaving Sarah to face the verbal onslaught alone. She had tried almost every tactic she could think of, from ignoring him to screaming back, but nothing worked. Instead, she'd had plates of food thrown at her, her top ripped, a book she was trying to read instead of responding to him torn apart. On this particular evening, Sarah bolted upstairs after the children, saying she had to run a bath for Marissa. She found all of them huddled in Simon's room, and when she entered 17 year old Simon spoke up.
"Mom, we can't take this anymore."
Sarah looked around. Maria was curled up on Simon's bed, crying. She had lately been complaining of constant stomach aches. "You need to get us out of here," Maria added.
Sarah sat down on the bed and pulled Maria close. She looked around at her battle weary children. "I'll talk to a lawyer," she had said.
After that evening, the plan went relatively smoothly. She had talked to a lawyer, and decided to find a job. Steps one and two were accomplished. Step three was actually filing the papers. That would be the scariest step, the one that would take her to the brink of the unknown.