Page 129 of The Apple Tree

“Eve Marie Jacobson, don’t even joke about something like that. You know how hard it was on me when your father found out about Sarah’s secret relationship. I cried myself to sleep forweeks. Your dad and I were at each other's throats. I didn’t know if we’d survive it. So before you do something stupid like that, let me know. I’ll slit my wrists or drive my car off a bridge first, so I don’t have to deal with the fallout again.”

I kept it together on the outside but fell apart on the inside. I opened my mouth to remind her that suicide was a sin but quickly clamped my jaw shut. When my father kicked Sarah out of the house, I spent most evenings drinking by the creek or locked in my room. It was the best way to drown out my parents fighting. And they never fought in the house (with my sisters and I in earshot)untilthe Sarah incident.

I laughed nervously. “You wouldn’t really take your own life, would you?”

She sipped her coffee. “I pray not. But nobody thought Debbie Rice would take her life when she found out about her husband’s affair.” She slowly shook her head. “We’re all human. We’re all sinners. And sometimes life feels unbearable no matter how many prayers one says.” She gave me a sad smile. “I never imagined feeling like I did after your dad made Sarah leave. Maybe God gave me that trial so I would have greater compassion for others.”

“You know Sarah is happy now. And Dad has forgiven her. Maybe God gave him that experience to have more compassion for his other two daughters.”

She took another sip before nodding. “Hmm … perhaps. Your father is a Godly man. Loving and forgiving. But he’s also a father with raw emotions. So let’s just play it safe and not test him like Sarah did.” She set her mug on the counter. “Anyway, I’m glad you came home last night. If anyone says something, I’ll make sure they know you’re not staying at Kyle’s place anymore because he doesn’t need you during the night.”

I offered a reluctant smile and a tiny nod.

“Haveyou ever thought about taking your own life?” I asked Grandma Bonnie as she ate her apple strudel while I wound the yarn from the partially crocheted scarf that she decided to abandon.

She stopped eating mid-chew. “Eve,” she mumbled before swallowing. “What is going on?”

I shook my head. “I’m not suicidal.”

“But you know someone who is?”

“No. Well, it was something Mom said this morning. She made me think that if I made Dad upset in the way Sarah did, she’d slit her wrists or drive off a bridge. At first, I thought she was kidding, but I’m not so sure.”

Grandma frowned. “She’s taken the role of wife too far. The ‘love, honor, andobey’is too much. She feels responsible for your father’s success and happiness—and you girls’ too. When Sarah fell in love, your mom felt it was her fault that Sarah didn’t choose a man your father approved of. She takes the blame for everything that’s perceived as wrong. But she never takes credit for your successes. Being a wife and mother is a hard balance between unimaginable joy and complete insanity. You get stretched so thin some days, it feels like there’s nothing left to hold yourself together. But that’s not your problem. I’ll talk with her.”

“Don’t tell her I said anything.”

“I won’t. I’ll just check in on her. That’s what mothers do.”

“I want to tell my parents about Kyle and me, but if Dad reacts badly, which he will, and my mom cries herself to sleep every night like she did with Sarah, and she decides to takeher life …” I swallowed hard and blinked back my emotions. “It would be?—”

“Her own fault.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want her ever to be that sad again. It’s not about blame; it’s just that I love her. And I know that—” I stopped. It was easy to forget that I was talking to my mom’s mother.

“You know what?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

“I love her too, dear. That’s why I’m going to talk to her. It’s not fair for her to feel responsible for anyone’s happiness but her own. And that’s what you need to remember too. Understood?”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

On my way home,I pulled into the gas station and used the phone booth to make a collect call.

Sarah accepted the charges.

“Why are you calling me collect?” She laughed.

“Because if Dad sees it on our phone bill, he’ll ask why I called you.”

“What’s going on that couldn’t wait until Thanksgiving?” she asked.

“I’m in love with a man who’s twenty-eight.”

Silence.

“Sarah?”

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