The Breaking Point. Mariella Starr

      “Really?”

      “Yeah, I know she’ll be okay with you coming. She might send me packing. When you’re finished, start gathering together whatever you want to take with you.”

      Ricco turned to his father. “Did you have a terrible fight with Mom or something?”

      Ales nodded. “Yes, it’s a grown-up thing between us. It doesn’t mean we stopped loving each other or you. Okay?”

      “Yeah, but you’re not allowed to get a divorce,” Ricco said.

      “What do you know about divorce?”

      “I know it’s when the dad goes away,” Ricco said fearfully. “There are a lot of kids in my class, at camp too. They don’t have dads that live with them anymore. I know kids that have dads that never come to visit them, ever. Marcy has a dad, but she doesn’t have a mother. That’s because her mother died in a car accident. Mom’s not hurt so bad that she’s going to die, is she?”

      “No, your mother is getting stronger every day, and I’m not going away,” Ales said, hugging his son. “No matter what happens, I will always be your dad, and I will be there for you! Now, finish the drawing because Mom is going to love it, and start deciding what you want to take with you.”

      “How long are we going to be there?”

      “As long as we need to be there. We need Mom as much as she needs us.”

      Chapter 2

      The next couple of days were busy. Taking time away from his company involved a lot of planning. Ales had been run ragged after taking time off to be at the hospital with Faith. There were a lot of details that had to be arranged, but he was determined. Right now, his wife needed him, and he needed to extend as much effort into his marriage as he’d been giving his business for the past several years. He was in daily contact with Jill, but the news of his wife’s continued depression wasn’t reassuring.

      The move wasn’t permanent, but he still needed to rent a small U-Haul. His truck didn’t have a hatch to cover the bed, and he didn’t think it would hold all they were taking with them. He needed to take his computers. He wasn’t going to return to Cumberland for a while, but he would be in contact with his business partner, and some of his clients.

      Ricco managed to accumulate quite a pile of his things that he wanted to take with him. Boys came with bikes and scooters, and an assortment of sports accessories of balls, bats and safety equipment. They all had bikes, but in the past few years, his and Faith’s bicycles had been hung on racks in the garage and never been taken down since. The family jaunts they’d enjoyed had become non-existent.

      Ales stood in the garage looking at those bikes, and he was glad he’d sent his son over to Carrie’s house to play with his cousins. Maybe it was his Italian heritage, what Faith teased him about–his machismo. He didn’t want his son to see him crying.

      Faith’s breaking point had been the destruction of her art. Ales’ was realizing that his marriage had been slowly deteriorating, and he’d been too full of himself to notice. As his architecture firm had grown, he’d begun to spend more and more of his time at the office. He had attended his business, but he’d lost focus with his family. As time at the office became more valuable, his time with Faith and Ricco had been sacrificed. He habitually missed their sit-down dinners, a tradition Faith had instituted early in their marriage, as a time to talk, exchange ideas, and make plans.

      Ales leaned against the wall of the garage and banged his head against the boards, and then he slowly slid to the garage floor and buried his face into his folded arms. He was remembering all the missed cues, and his decisions weighed heavily on him, and against him. He heard the footsteps of John Vantana, his brother-in-law, but he couldn’t raise his face to greet his friend. John settled on the floor beside him.

      “Sorry,” Ales said, swiping at his face with his sleeve.

      “No, problem, man,” John said matter-of-factly. “We all have to let loose, sooner or later. One of the bad things about being a firefighter is seeing people fall apart under stress. One of the good things is seeing the look of hope in their eyes when they realize if all their family members survived, they have all that matters.”

      “I don’t want to lose Faith,” Ales said in a choked voice.

      “Then don’t,” John said bluntly. “Change what needs to be fixed. We’ve all been through some rough patches. You have to pay attention, figure out what’s not working and fix it. Giving up is not an option. Working firefighter shifts is hard on Carrie and the kids, and I reluctantly and stupidly came to realize that while I might be saving the lives of strangers, my wife and kids were suffering.

      “I was the all-around jock. I was in a baseball league, a bowling league, and even with all that, I was spending every spare minute with my buddies, and not with my family. I didn’t get smacked in the face until I came home one day, and Carrie had packed my stuff, and set it outside. She told me to go live with my male friends, and play my games because she and my kids were used to living without a husband and father.

      “I didn’t realize what I was doing to my family until it was almost too late. That’s how my father raised my brothers and me and I thought that was the way men should act. The problem is that we can’t act like our fathers. When Carrie packed my bags and my toys and told me to get out, I got a lesson in reality slammed over my head.”

      John gave his head a scratch. “I didn’t learn all this great wisdom on my own dear brother-in-law. Carrie dragged me kicking and screaming to a marriage counselor. But, what he taught us works.

      “Our family has a bigger problem than most, and it’s called Cybil. She’s probably not the sum total of what has gone wrong in your marriage, but she has contributed heavily to it. Carrie and I were talking about this situation last night after you called. After your dad retired, he couldn’t seem to control your mother anymore, and since he died, your mother has gone plum nuts.

      “We gave Cybil an ultimatum about nine months ago. We told Cybil that she was not going to run roughshod over us any longer. Mack and Jill did it a couple of years ago, and it worked for them. Knowing Mack, he wasn’t as diplomatic in his approach as we tried to be.

      “We set up our parameters. Your mother can’t come into our home unless she is invited, and she’ll remain there, only if she behaves. When she starts her crap, we ask her to leave. It’s not a nice way to treat her, but your mother doesn’t understand boundaries, and trying to be nice to her doesn’t work. She seems to think it’s her way or no way, and we’re not willing to accept that any longer.

      “We’re not trying to dump the responsibility of your mother solely on you, but we’ve made the decision that our family and our marriage has to come first. Even as adults, we can only be expected to take so much. You should know something else. Cybil has been acting crazy for years, but Jill and Carrie have reason to believe that she’s a closet alcoholic.”

      “Drinking? Mom doesn’t drink, except at social gatherings!” Ales said.

      “You may have to rethink that. Mrs. Nordstrom, your mother’s neighbor, says otherwise. Cybil has been hiding liquor bottles in her neighbor’s trash. She denies it, but the neighbors say they’ve caught her doing it. Apparently, it’s been going on for a long time. When Mrs. Nordstrom’s kids accused her of drinking, she decided it was time to complain.”

      “Damn, I don’t have time to deal with this, on top of everything else,” Ales swore.

      John got to his feet and offered his hand to his brother-in-law to pull him upright. We know that, and that’s why you’re off the hook. Your sisters and their worthless husbands – that’s a direct quote according to your mother – are going to handle it. Take the whole matter off your radar for now, because we have some investigating to do. If what we suspect is true, we need proof. Then we’ll take on Cybil.

      “Jill