Child of Her Heart

“Oh, Bryon, I’m so glad you called.”

“I doubt you will be when you hear what I have to say. First of all, tomorrow, I’m sending a friend of mine to pick up my belongings. Be sure you send everything.”

“Bryon, please, don’t you intend to come back?”

“I think I made that plain to you before. I intend to divorce you.”

“But you can’t do that! Bryon, I still love you. I need you. Why are you treating me this way?”

She began to sob and he hung up on her. It was hours before Sonya stopped crying. She would have been better off if he hadn’t called, as she’d developed a numbness about his absence, and now her heartache started again.

His clothes still lay where she had thrown them two weeks ago, and she picked them up lovingly, chagrined at the mess they were in. She worked for hours pressing the garments to make them as neat as he liked his clothing. There wasn’t anything she could do about the mutilated ties, and she questioned whether she should send them. If she didn’t, he would probably demand to know where they were, so she stacked them with his other things. Sonya had hoped that this menial service for Bryon would serve as a catharsis to rid her mind of the unkind thoughts she’d been having about her husband. Instead she actually felt unclean to love so wholeheartedly a man who no longer loved her, and perhaps never had.

She telephoned Leta early the next morning. “Bryon is sending someone after his clothing today. Do you have any large cartons that I can use for packing?”

“I’ll have the janitor bring some to your apartment, and I’ll help you pack. You shouldn’t have to do that by yourself.”

When Leta saw Sonya’s stricken face, she was unusually quiet, and she didn’t make any caustic comments about the tears Sonya shed as they tied the boxes. Leta put comforting arms around Sonya’s shoulders and said, “Cry all you want to. I know you won’t believe me now, but you’ll get over this. You’ll be happy again.”

“You’re a good friend, Leta, and I’ve found I don’t have many. Bryon has been my life for three years. The friends we had were his friends. The Shraders are the only ones who have shown me a bit of kindness since Bryon left. I feel like a pariah. Bryon is the one at fault—why does everyone shun me?”

“I don’t know,” Leta answered, patting Sonya’s trembling shoulders. “Mostly it’s because they don’t know what to say to you. They don’t intend to be unkind.”

“And I’ll have to lose you, too, Leta, since I can’t go on living in your apartment and not pay rent The rent will be due next week, and as you know, I can’t pay it.”

“Hush that kind of talk. I’ll carry you until you get on your feet.”

“But I can’t afford this apartment on what I’ll be able to make. And I hate to ask you, but could you buy the furniture? I don’t know that I have the right to sell it, but if you could buy it, that would give me some money to rent a smaller place. You could rent this as a furnished apartment, couldn’t you?”

“I often have calls for furnished apartments, and I’ll buy the furniture if you’re determined to move, but don’t decide now. I have plenty of money, and I have no intention of setting you out on the street.” She kissed Sonya’s cheek and released her. “This is a tough break, little lady, but you’ll come through it all right. Let me know when they come for Bryon’s clothing, and I’ll have the janitor carry the boxes down to the lobby. You shouldn’t lift them.”

All day Sonya waited, but it was after five o’clock before the doorbell rang, and she was surprised to see Gail Lantz, one of the women from Bryon’s office. Gail had attended most of the parties they’d had in the apartment. She was a divorcee, but she usually came in the company of a single man from the office. Sonya and Gail met occasionally for lunch.

“Hello, Gail,” Sonya said. “Come in. I’m glad to see you.” What a relief to know that all of their old friends hadn’t deserted her!

“I don’t have time to visit. I came for Bryon’s things.”

Gail was a petite brunette with a helpless look in her eyes, who prompted protective instincts from others. Until today, Sonya had never detected any arrogance in her personality.

“Oh, I didn’t know who he was sending.” She stepped back into the apartment. “They’re boxed and in the bedroom. The janitor will carry them downstairs.”

“Two of the men from the office are with me. They’ll carry the boxes.”

The men, both of whom had often visited their apartment, pushed a luggage carrier down the hall. Mute, Sonya motioned them to enter. They spoke, and after that, refused to meet her gaze.

Sonya followed them into the bedroom. They stacked the boxes on the carrier while Gail riffled the dresser drawers. She added Bryon’s jewelry box and several books to the stack. When she picked up Sonya’s jewelry box, Sonya said, “That happens to be mine. Or do you have orders to take my things, too?”

Gail fingered several of the gold chains and lifted the diamond necklace, Bryon’s last-year’s Christmas gift. She dropped it back into the box and closed the lid. “You’d better put those in a safer place. You won’t be getting any more.”

From the nightstand drawer, she took an album filled with pictures of Bryon’s childhood and youth activities. She brushed by Sonya and went back into the living room, where she collected the trophies and plaques that Bryon had won at bowling and golf tournaments.

“Where are his golf clubs and bowling ball? He wants those, also.”

Sonya pointed to the closet beside the hallway. She had lost the power to speak. Gail handed Bryon’s sports equipment to the waiting men, and as Sonya listened to the carrier squeaking down the hall removing all evidence of Bryon from the apartment, she couldn’t have been any more disconsolate if they had been wheeling Bryon out in a casket.

Before Gail left, she took a letter from her purse. “Bryon also wanted me to give you this.” Her brown eyes flared maliciously.

Sonya couldn’t lift her arm to take the E-mail letter, so Gail laid it on the table, exited into the hall and slammed the door.

Gail! Was she the other woman Leta had warned her about?

Sonya locked the door, as she didn’t want anyone to come in. She had about reached the end of her endurance, and if she came completely unwound, she didn’t want anyone to witness it

She forced herself to pick up the message Gail had placed on the table.

Sonya,

I’ve paid the bills you sent, and I think it’s only fair to tell you that I’ll pay no more. I’ve arranged for the telephone to be disconnected, and the electric and gas will be shut off the last of the month. If you had been reasonable when I asked for a divorce, I wouldn’t have gone to this extent. As far as I’m concerned, you can fend for yourself.

Your “loving” husband, Bryon.

The last of the month. So she had three more days to live in this apartment. Even if Leta permitted her to stay rent free, she couldn’t live here without utilities.

The telephone rang several times before Sonya finally answered it.

“Mrs. Dixon, this is Doctor Hammer’s office. When we submitted the statement for your last office call, the insurance company rejected our request stating you were no longer on that policy. I’m sure it’s a mistake, but I thought you should check it out.”

“Thank you for calling. I’ll look into it.”

“And don’t forget your next appointment in two weeks.”

Sonya replaced the phone. Of course, there wasn’t any mistake—Bryon had removed her from the policy. What could she do? She had no job, no money, no insurance for the birth of her baby, no friends, no nothing.

Laughing wildly, Sonya charged around the room kicking the furniture. She looked out the window. What did she have to live for? Three floors down. One quick jump would end it all. It would be practically painless and easy. She unlatched the window and climbed out onto the ledge. The traffic roared below her. She looked down fearlessly. On the count of ten, she would jump.

“One.”

I’ve always feared heights. Shouldn’t I be afraid now?

“Two.”

The clouds are pretty today. They remind me of the sky in Ohio when I was a child. I used to pick out all kinds of figures in the clouds—animals, continents, states. Can I do that now? Why, yes, that one looks like an angel. Is it my guardian angel? “I looked over Jordan, and what did I see? Angels coming to carry me home,” she sang dreamily.

“Three.”

The first time Bryon had seen her, he’d said, “Gee, you’re beautiful. Where have you been all my life?” She had been so proud that Bryon had chosen her. Was that why she had always done what he’d wanted her to? Come to think of it, she had never refused to do anything he’d asked until he had demanded she have an abortion. Maybe Bryon wasn’t as perfect as she’d thought Was she only a possession to him? Was he kind only when he had his own way? But she refused to believe it, for to concede that Bryon’s character contained many flaws would reflect on her own judgment.

“Four.”

The trees above her were beginning to display colored foliage. She had always liked fall; too bad she would miss all of the beauty.

“Five.”

Would Bryon feel sorry when he heard the news? Would he realize he had caused her death? Maybe she should have left him a note.

“Six.”

I should have written my parents, but there’s no time. If I don’t do this now, I might lose my nerve.

“Seven.”

The pavement looked inviting. I must remember to fall on my head. Sonya envisioned that her landing would have the sensation of settling into a water bed.

“Eight.”

When I awaken, where will I be? That was a sobering thought, but Sonya counted on.

“Nine.”

She released her hold on the brick wall and leaned forward, but she staggered back when the ringing telephone shattered the stillness.

What am I doing on this window ledge? she thought frantically. When the telephone continued to ring, she scampered back inside the living room.

Grasping the receiver as if it were a lifeline, she said breathlessly, “Hello.”

A resonant voice answered her. “This is Adam Benson. Daniel Massie gave me your name. When would it be convenient for my wife and me to call on you?”

“Could you come right now?” Sonya gasped. “I’m desperate. I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I’m alone anymore. I need help. Please come right away.”

Chapter Three

By the time Adam Benson rang her doorbell, Sonya shook like a woman with the palsy. Her throat was dry, and when she opened the door she seized the man’s arm.

“I’m Adam Benson, and this is my wife, Marie.” His brown eyes gleamed with compassion, and he murmured, “My dear, trust us.”

Marie Benson put an arm around Sonya and led her to the couch.

Adam said to his wife, “Make some tea, and see if you can find something for her to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” Sonya murmured between stiff lips. Marie disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, and Sonya heard her opening cabinet doors as if she were at home.

“I almost did a terrible thing,” Sonya confided to Adam. “When the telephone rang, I was standing on the window ledge ready to jump to my death. How did you know I needed help at that exact moment?”

“You’ve been on my mind since Daniel suggested you needed some counseling. This evening when I was praying, I felt an overwhelming urge to telephone you. Daniel has also been praying for you.”

“I can’t believe I’d do such a thing. It was almost as if I were in a trance. I knew what was going on, but I seemed to be standing outside my body watching the whole thing.”

“It’s quite common for a person who’s been driven to the depths of despair to have suicidal tendencies.”

Marie returned with a pot of tea and some sandwiches, and the aroma of the tea nauseated Sonya. She clutched her stomach.

“I can’t eat anything,” she insisted.

“But you must eat, Sonya, and especially drink the tea. Adam and I will eat with you. We didn’t take time for dinner.”

“I’ve not eaten much for several weeks. My stomach feels as if it’s been tied in knots. I hate to eat alone.”

Marie sat beside Sonya and patted her hand. “Try to relax. You don’t have to bear your burden alone anymore. We’re here to help you.”

The Bensons were middle-aged. Adam was a short, slender man, who wore brown-rimmed glasses. His wife tended to plumpness, and she had dark hair sprinkled with gray. Her gray eyes glistened with warmth and friendliness; her voice was soft and cheerful.

Nibbling on sandwiches, the Bensons talked to each other, discussing ordinary happenings around Omaha—the ball games and the fall and winter concerts planned by the fine arts department at the university. Sonya occasionally added a comment to their upbeat words. They didn’t refer to her problem, and to her surprise, in a short while she realized that she had eaten a whole sandwich and her tea was gone. She poured another cup of tea and settled back on the sofa feeling better than she had for a month.

When the food was gone, Adam said, “Sonya, we’re here to help you, not interfere in your affairs. If you want to tell us about your situation, we’re ready to listen.”

“What did Mr. Massie tell you?”

“Only that you had some problems, and that you might contact me.”

“My husband has left me,” and, having had the courage to admit that, Sonya launched into the experiences of the past months. She talked for more than an hour, often breaking into sobs and occasionally walking around the room twisting her hands. Marie finally pulled her gently to the sofa and sat holding Sonya’s hands tightly as she talked. When she faltered, Adam asked a brief question to encourage her to continue.

“What worries me,” Sonya said as she finished, “is what did I do wrong? Why did this happen to me? I’ve tried to be a good wife. I’ve been faithful to my husband. Why did this happen to me?”

“I know this is small comfort to you,” Adam said, “but there are thousands of young women in this country who have suffered a similar fate. And I don’t think you have done anything wrong. Your husband is obviously a selfish man without any consideration for others.”

“That isn’t true!” Sonya hurried to defend him. “He’s always been considerate of me until this incident. It’s out of character for him to behave like this.”

“Then let’s just say that your husband has a problem. A man who walks out on his responsibilities should seek help himself.”

“I doubt he would see it that way,” Sonya said, realizing that her two statements about Bryon were inconsistent. “But I have been wondering if there is something in Bryon’s past that I don’t know about, some incident that would cause him to resent my bearing a child. I can hardly believe it, for his family seems well adjusted and live a normal life-style, and they are prosperous. I feel sure that he wouldn’t see any need for change in himself.”

“Then if he won’t seek counseling, either jointly or alone, all we can do is work with your situation. You must believe that you’re going to surmount all these difficulties and come out of this a stronger woman than you’ve been before.”

“I don’t see how I can make it.” Sonya shook her head. “I’ve looked for a job with no luck. I must move out of this apartment soon, and my money is dwindling rapidly.”

“Please believe me—you’re going to make it all right. Tomorrow, we’ll discuss plans for your future. Our immediate problem is to bring you safely through the night”

“I’ll stay with her,” Marie said.

“Oh, I couldn’t let you do that. I’ll be all right.”

“It’s quite likely you will have other despairing moments as you struggle to deny what has happened. If you won’t allow Marie to stay, then I’ll give you two telephone numbers. There are counselors at these phones around-the-clock ready to listen, and whenever you feel that life is more than you can handle, telephone them. They’ll listen or give advice, whichever you need most.”

“But my telephone service will be discontinued tomorrow!”

“Sometimes it takes a few days for the telephone company to follow through on those orders. We’ll trust that will be the case in this instance.”

Before they left, Marie handed Sonya a small book, entitled, No Easy Way Out.

“Please read this book,” Adam said. “It’s the story of a young woman in this town who went through a difficult marriage. She thought she was taking the easy way out, but the woman who wrote the pamphlet believes healing comes through facing one’s problems.” He took Sonya’s hand. “How is your relationship with God, Sonya? I feel I must ask that.”

“My parents started taking me to church when I was a tiny girl, and Bryon and I go to church occasionally. I do believe in God.”

“How long since you’ve read your Bible?”

Sonya dropped her head. “Not since I’ve been married.”

“Then I would suggest that you read it. God can help you, but you need to reach out to Him.”

Desperation surged over Sonya again when the door closed behind the Bensons. She looked out the window and then checked to be sure the latch was securely closed. She pushed several chairs in front of the window to deter her if she tried to climb out again. The street lamps radiated brightness, and blurred streaks of automobile headlights pierced the darkness. Sonya shuddered when she thought of where she might be now if the Bensons and Daniel Massie hadn’t been concerned.

She looked at the two numbers Benson had given her. Would there be someone to listen if she telephoned? She dialed one of them, and a pleasant voice answered, “We Care. May I help you?”

Sonya laughed nervously. “I only wanted to know you were there in case I do need you. Adam Benson told me to call when I have a problem.”

“Someone will be here all of the time,” the woman assured her. “When you feel a problem coming on, telephone. We’ll listen.”

Sonya ran the sweeper, dusted the furniture and did a load of laundry. Still not sleepy, she picked up the pamphlet Marie had given her. She started reading the story of Alice Simmons.

She tried to remember where she had heard that name, but couldn’t quite recall. Then she remembered, she’d heard the woman’s name on the news some months ago. Alice Simmons was related to someone well known in the city—Sonya didn’t remember who.

She did remember that Alice’s death by her own hand had attracted a great deal of attention in the local news. Alice had married a hardened criminal without any knowledge of his illegal activities. She had suffered abuse of all kinds, and had finally left the man to live with her grandmother. Her husband had continued to harass her, and unable to get rid of him, she had finally committed suicide. Sonya could see her own situation in that of Alice, and again she longed for the release that death would bring.

But the pamphlet continued, “There’s no easy way out. Trust God with your problems. Deal with them head-on, rather than ignore them.”

These words spoke to Sonya’s immediate need, for she had been feeling guilty that she had actually planned to take her life. She couldn’t imagine why she would be tempted to do such a thing, but in light of Alice’s experience, her action must be a normal response to what she had been through.

During Adam’s counseling, he had told her to remember, “When your burden seems the worst, a way out will be provided.” She repeated the words over and over, and she went to bed, clutching the paper Adam had given her. She dreaded to turn out the light, but she went to sleep right away. Suddenly she awakened overwhelmed with heaviness and despair.

God can’t help me. Adam Benson can’t help me. Nobody can help me. I’ll do what Alice Simmons did. Surely I can be as brave as she was.

Sonya slid out of bed and headed for the window, but she became conscious of the slip of paper in her hand. Her shaking fingers reached for the telephone, and she dialed the number for We Care, fearing no one would answer.

“We Care. May I help you?”

“Yes, please. I’m considering taking my own life.”

The woman’s voice at the other end of the line spoke soothingly, “Tell me what’s bothering you, ma’am.”

At the end of a half hour, Sonya terminated the conversation feeling relaxed, although the woman hadn’t said much. She had simply let Sonya talk, but that had been comforting. Remembering the woman’s last words from the Bible, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning,” Sonya went to sleep again.

Once more during the night, she awakened, shaking violently. She dialed the number. A man answered and, speaking calmly, he discussed the good things in life, ending with, “Why don’t you try remembering all the pleasant times you’ve enjoyed through the years. Usually they outweigh the bad days.”

After considerable effort, Sonya blocked out the past two years and thought of her childhood on the farm. She envisioned fields of growing corn, ripening wheat and the scent of new-mown hay. She eventually went to sleep, to be awakened by the ringing telephone. The sun shone brightly through her windows.

She reached for the phone receiver. “Good morning, Sonya. This is Marie Benson. How do you feel?”

“Tired, but safe, thanks to you and your friends.”

“Adam and I want to talk with you again. When will it be convenient for you?”

“As soon as I shower and have breakfast. Do you know, I actually feel hungry this morning?”

“Great! That’s a good sign. You’ve started on the road to recovery.”

The warm shower took away some of Sonya’s weariness, but when she started to dry her hair, the dryer wouldn’t work. She tried the light switch—no power. So Bryon hadn’t been fooling—he’d had the power company disconnect the electricity. No doubt the telephone would go next. Fortunately the water was provided as part of their rent, so she wouldn’t be completely without utilities until she could find some other place to live.

Without electricity, she had to be satisfied with a glass of milk and untoasted bread for breakfast, but though she had felt hungry, she threw most of the bread in the garbage. Her obstetrician had given specific instructions about her diet, and she knew she must be more careful, but not this morning. She made an effort to greet the Bensons with cheerfulness, but after she reviewed her tense night, Adam said, “You probably still aren’t out of the woods as far as despair is concerned, but you know how to handle it now. Let’s deal with your immediate problems. As I see it you have several options, and if we had more time, we could make long-range plans, but it’s obvious you’ll have to make a change in living arrangements right away.”

“What options do you suggest?” A sense of frustration threatened to overpower her again. If it were only herself, she could live anywhere, but she had to have a place for her baby.

“You can go to your parents and stay until after the birth of your child. Surely they would take you in.”

“I know they would, and they’ll be furious when they find out I haven’t come to them, but when I disregarded their wishes by marrying before I finished college, I don’t think they should be burdened with my mistake. My dad said if I was burned, I’d have to suffer with the blister by myself.”

“I doubt he meant that,” Adam said with a smile. “I have three children, and I know how your parents will feel. Besides, it will be a burden to them whether or not you go home.”

“It may come to that, but not until I’ve exhausted every other possibility.”

“You can go on welfare. The agency will provide you with food and shelter, as well as a health card to take care of your medical expenses.”

Sonya shook her head. “Why should the taxpayers be burdened with my mistake?”

“Then your only other option is to take legal action immediately, to force your husband to support you until after the child is born. You might feel it isn’t a problem your parents or the public should share, but you can certainly realize that he has an obligation.”