She’d handled the situation with Jeff just as she’d been coached.
And could have been physically hurt, regardless.
The whole situation left Ella feeling sick. Confused.
And out of hope.
* * *
JEFF WENT HOME. Put himself in anger-management counseling. Joined an anger-management support group. And went back to church. He talked to his pastor, asking him to keep an eye on him and to pray for his family.
And every night he wrote to his wife—letters that stayed with him since he had no address for Chloe.
A couple weeks after the incident at his house, Brett called Ella to ask if Chloe would be open to a supervised conversation with Jeff.
Thanksgiving had come and gone. Ella had called Jeff, who’d just come back from spending the day with a family he’d met through his support group. A middle-aged couple with three children. The husband had hit all of them at one time or another.
And hadn’t lifted a hand to them for more than eight years. Jeff told Ella that he’d never seen such a close, caring family.
She’d heard the hope in his words. But hadn’t relayed either the words or her interpretation of them to Chloe as the three of them drove to The Lemonade Stand to share with the rest of the residents the full turkey dinner Chloe had planned.
Jeff hadn’t asked about Chloe, and Ella hadn’t mentioned her, either.
According to Brett, when he’d called to relay Jeff’s request to speak to Chloe, Jeff had been making good progress and was at a point where there were some questions only Chloe could answer for him. Like when did she first notice the change in him? How long did the progression take from irritability to verbal abuse? He didn’t remember many instances, but had been told to expect her to remember many more. He needed her perspective. But only if she could give it without causing undue stress to herself.
Ella talked to Chloe, who asked if Ella would go with her when she talked to Sara about Jeff’s request. Chloe said she wanted Ella’s full support if she decided to speak with Jeff and figured Sara could help Ella understand what Chloe couldn’t always put into words. Sara advised that Chloe was certainly, in her opinion, healthy enough to speak with her husband, but strongly believed that the session should be supervised.
Sara seemed to think that Chloe had an interest in saving her marriage.
Ella hadn’t asked. She still didn’t.
But when she called Brett that night—the first Wednesday in December—she told him that she thought Chloe was leaning in that direction.
She’d waited for Chloe to go to bed and was in her own suite on the other side of the apartment, in her bathroom, with the fan blowing.
Speaking as softly as she could.
“You sound as if you don’t think them getting back together is a good idea,” he replied, as though they had all night to chat. He’d picked up on the first ring. His voice sounded good to her. Too good.
She didn’t think it was a good idea for Chloe to speak to Jeff yet. Just as she didn’t think it was a good idea for her and Brett to talk. It was too soon. For both of them. She’d been dating Jason for seven weeks. He’d made it clear he wanted to take things to the next level. And anytime he tried to get intimate with her, she pictured Brett and pulled back.
“I think it’s too soon for them to be together,” she told Brett, referring to Jeff and Chloe, wondering where Brett was. And not wanting to know. Not wanting to be able to picture him in real time.
“I mean, Jeff’s my brother, and I love him and want him happy. I don’t want him to lose his family. I don’t want to lose Chloe as a sister-in-law, either. But more, I don’t want Chloe hurt and my brother in jail. Just the thought of how close he came...”
“He’s in a twenty-four-month program,” Brett reminded her. “And he’s already making progress. He’s been able to take an honest look at himself. He’s taking moral accountability, and has a strong support system set up already and an even stronger desire to change.”
“I was reading...” Ella stopped. Swallowed. Started again. “Only three to eleven percent of abusers actually recover...”
“Jeff’s issues haven’t escalated as far as many of those accounted for in those
statistics, El. He was heading there, but he didn’t live the life of having to cover his actions over and over. He doesn’t carry around the memory of actually hitting his wife. And his lashing out wasn’t out of a need to control Chloe, or some lacking in his own self-concept. The only manipulation he’s guilty of is trying to get her to believe, as he believed, that he wasn’t heading down a wrong path. He has no drug or alcohol problems to fight...”
“You believe he can do this. That he can be one of the three percent.”
“Three to eleven percent. And I guess I do.”
With her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her shins and cradled herself. She’d missed a period and was feeling cranky. While she’d had unpredictable and difficult periods, it had been a long time since her body had acted up on her. Not since she’d lost the baby.