The story so far:
Mary was also fifty-two years old, with a short, gray afro. She was slightly thinner than May, wearing a black skirt and blouse. She looked as though she were in mourning. The family existed on her small income as a hospital clerk because of her husband's inability to hold down a job. The signs of worry were very visible on her face, from the wrinkles on her forehead to the lines around her mouth. Like May, her eyes were also bloodshot from worry, sleepless nights, and being just plain tired. The dark circles under her eyes testified to these facts. She sat uneasily in the cushioned easy chair, constantly looking around as if expecting someone.
I had to stop the craziness. I said, "Husband, please leave these young boys alone, they don't mean you any good."
He said, "I understand, Dear." He would hang out with these guys, playing cards, and owing them money.
The men who were his own age, got sick of his bragging, and quit talking to him. I think he shaved his hair down to keep the gray from showing too much around his young friends. Husband is old enough to be the father of these guys! He and five of these young men were supposed to be in our basement talking about jobs, when I smelled reefer, so I called the cops. His "cool young friends" said he had the weed and since they were all seventeen and eighteen years old, they were set free. Since then, my husband has been in and out of rehab centers, trying to get his head together. The dealers that he owes still come by, looking for him. Our son is angry that his father was so dumb. Our daughter won't talk to any of the neighbors. She blames them for her father's addiction. I told them both, "Daddy got himself in trouble, fooling with the wrong people."
Husband always told our children to think before acting. I wish he would take his own advice.
Like May, we hadn't seen Mary for a while when Marie started attending the sessions.