“So there’s no zombies?”
“Only in movies.” When he noticed that Jimmy’s eyes shrunk and a worried frown began to spread across his face, he asked, “What’s the matter? I’m sorry if she scared you, but it’s really nothing—”
“It’s not that.”
“What is it, then?”
Jimmy’s tiny nose crinkled a bit. “Mommy looked like a zombie sometimes.”
A chill ran through Dwight. His shoulders twitched at the thought of Sammie. The frail and sickly image of her burned into his mind, and no matter how much he wanted to he couldn’t shake it away. He could never get her out of his head, but the days that passed without a mention of her were considered good days. There was no denying that his son was right about such a comparison. By the end of their marriage she had transformed into a gaunt shell of what she used to be, her skin pale as bones, those horrible, rotting teeth. She wasn’t the same woman he had fallen in love with, that was for sure.
“Enough zombie talk,” Dwight said. He gave Jimmy a soft kiss on his forehead and pinched his right cheek while saying goodnight. He left the bedroom, leaving the door open a crack. He stood outside of Jimmy’s room for several minutes, motionless.
Sammie had become a meth addict. While Dwight never figured out what triggered it, he had always suspected that it was because she wasn’t ready to be a mother. It was like a part of her life was over and she did everything she could to hold onto that part, never growing up or accepting any responsibility. Sure, she enjoyed being a mother at first, but her depression started when Jimmy was a year old. She would slump in a chair with her hands over her face, crying, ignoring her son’s pleas. Dwight had suggested they take a vacation, saying how his father always looked forward to watching over Jimmy while they were away. The offer never seemed to appeal to her. That’s when he thought maybe he was the problem.
She started going out regularly with friends not too long after that. As soon as Dwight would step into the house, before even saying, “I’m home,” she would rush out the door, all dressed up with gallons of makeup on her face. She wouldn’t come home until late in the morning the next day. Dwight was pretty sure she’d cheated on him, but he never confronted her. In the end he just wanted to be there for Jimmy, but it tore him apart having the youngster ask him every night where his mommy was.
“She went out,” he’d tell him.
That’s when Jimmy would frown and say, “Mommy goes out a lot.”
He didn’t know what else to say. At first he figured Sammie was burnt out on motherhood and needed to escape for a while. He told himself that it was a phase and she’d snap out of it. If he pressed her on the issue or got mad, it’d only make things worse. He figured that if he just let her do as she pleased, she’d get bored and drop the act.
Dwight could’ve never imagined that it would get as bad as it did. When she started rapidly losing weight, that’s when he knew that something was up. She wasn’t the same person anymore, constantly indifferent to everything. Whenever Dwight asked her a question, she’d mumble an unintelligible reply. She stayed away from the house more and more, even when he was at work. It got to a point where Dwight would have to call his father and ask him to watch Jimmy during the day.
“Son, you know your wife’s got a serious problem,” his father said at one point.
Dwight had told him everything was under control. His father agreed to look after Jimmy while he was at work. Dwight wasn’t exactly pleased that it had to happen that way, but he didn’t know what else could be done.
When Dwight came home from work one night, his father sat him down at the table so they could have a talk. Dwight knew this wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation, but he had nowhere else he could go, and he knew that his father wouldn’t leave until he said what he needed to say.
“You’ve got to face that fact that your wife has a problem, Dwight. You can’t keep on denying it.”
“Who’s denying it? I know things aren’t good.”
“But you’re not doing anything about it.”
Dwight threw his hands in the air. “Dad, what the hell am I supposed to do? Huh? Sammie is an adult, and I can’t ground her for acting out.”
“This goes beyond acting out, Son.”
“She’ll snap out of it.”
“She’s a mother, for chrissakes!”
“I know what she is.”
“Clearly you don’t. Last time I saw her, she looked like a walking corpse. And her teeth!”
“Dad…”
“You know she has a drug problem. There’s not much else that can cause a body to change like that.”
Dwight rubbed his face into his hands. His eyes began to water, but he did his damndest to fight back the tears. Yes, he knew what was going on with Sammie. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Maybe he didn’t want to face it because he felt responsible. He should’ve stopped it long before it got so out of hand, but he really believed that Sammie would get better on her own. Anything was better than Sammie leaving them.
“Dad,” he started, “when you and Mom had problems, you tried to talk it out with her. And you two split.”
“We had problems, but nothing like what you’re dealing with. And even though we split, we never stopped being your parents, now did we? You can’t sit there and be passive just because you’re afraid Sammie is going to walk out on you.”
“I don’t want to lose her.”
“She’s not Sammie, Dwight. She’s…something else. The woman you loved is gone, but there’s a way to get her back. She’s gotta get clean. Seek treatment. Threaten to cut her off from you and Jimmy.”
“And if she walks?”
His father shrugged. “Then that’s what it’s gotta be.”
He knew his father was right—he always was—but that didn’t make the issue any easier on him. He couldn’t envision a life without Sammie, even if she was different. Still, he knew things had to change for the better soon. Jimmy had started asking him questions about her appearance. He might’ve been little, but he was no dummy. Dwight couldn’t bring himself to tell his son the truth. Something had to be done.
On an evening when Sammie walked into the house well past midnight, Dwight was waiting for her in the living room. He told her they needed to talk. Her eyes were half-closed and her blond hair looked like dried hay.
“What about?” she asked, emotionless.
“You’ve got a problem.”
She brought her boney finger to her nose and gave a loud snort. “Yeah? Took you long enough to notice.”
“I’ve known for a while. I just thought you were going through some weird phase, that you’d snap out of it.”
“There’s nothing to snap out of.”
“I mean, I know you’re unhappy,” he continued. “I thought if I gave you some space things would somehow go back to normal. I just didn’t think you’d…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. His guilt pounded him in his gut. He closed his eyes and counted to three, willing himself to be strong.
“You need help,” Dwight finally said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. “Seriously, I want you to check into rehab.”
Sammie stared at him with dead eyes. She sniffled loudly and rubbed her jaw. “Yeah? What if I don’t want to go?”
“If you won’t go, then you can’t be around Jimmy and me anymore.”
“And you’re serious?”
Dwight nodded.
She continued to stare at him, no emotion to be found on her pale face. She shrugged her bone-thin shoulders. “I want a divorce,” was all she said to him before she left the house. She never looked back or said goodbye.