Free Heaven or Hell by Roni Teson Page B

church. Her time spent with the priest had been uncomfortable and truly unnecessary. Teresa snickered, and slowly the snickers became a roaring laughter.
    “What’s so funny?” JJ asked.
    And without either of them really knowing why, she supposed, the contagious laughter simply caught on. Both mother and son laughed themselves silly, all the way home.
     

CHAPTER 8  
    SITTING DOWN AT HER KITCHEN TABLE, Jessie examined the black and white essay notebook Teresa had left with her, the same kind that both she and Joe had carried back and forth to Catholic school so many years before. The sheets contained large spaces between the lines, perhaps to allow room for juvenile ranting, or for the nun’s criticisms.
    God, she hadn’t thought about grammar school for years, and she hadn’t realized those days still bothered her so much. Jessie shook off the memory and focused on the present.
    She flipped open the cover of the notebook and fanned the pages, not at all recognizing her brother’s penmanship. From the first sheet to the last, the pages were filled with doodles and writing. No date, no headers, no indication of when the journal had been written. Jessie took a deep breath and read.
     
    My wife, Marion, is angry. She’s been mad at me almost as many years as she’s been dead. We raised our daughters together. We built a life together. Our world came apart when she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.
    I’ve learned, over time, if something is meant to happen it will happen. But I was not prepared for the death of our youngest daughter, Angela, during Marion’s chemo treatments. Teresa, our oldest daughter, was driving the car, and a hit and run driver left them both for dead, a tragedy that hastened the passing of my wife.
    Within months of one another, both my soul mate and my baby were gone. So I lost it. I gave Teresa no support, no care while I drank myself into a living hell.
    I met Marion when we were kids. Well, I say kids, but legally we were adults. She was hanging out with Patricia, the girlfriend of some guy who spent time around us when we were in high school. I can’t remember the guy’s name anymore. Oh, well, neither of them was a part of our lives after Marion and I met. At the time, I was a dog toward the ladies. At twenty, I had plenty of girls lined up and didn’t mind adding more. Until I met Marion.
    When I saw Marion, there went my heart, although she didn’t seem to be interested in me at all. Oh yeah, she was still young, at seventeen. Small frame, long black shiny hair, petite nose, and a beautiful white smile that sparkled next to her tan skin. I was going to add her to the list of ladies that I loved, but Marion was smart. She knew I was a player, so she treated me like shit, and this made me want her even more. I’m smiling right now thinking about it.
    Me and the boys hung out regularly at Hermosa Park. We’d juice up our crappy little cars and loiter around the parking lot there. I always had with me a big can of Schlitz. Just a bunch of punks thinking we were badass. I laughed out loud when I wrote that.
    I must say my Marion kept me on the straight and narrow most of the time … that is, after I finally convinced her she wanted to date me. Eventually, we became inseparable. Something the boys thought would never happen, and they told me I was whipped! Then before I knew it, I had a job at the Post Office and was married to the love of my life. Yep, I was a changed man, or at least I thought I was.
    By the time Teresa was born, I was working for Gordy’s Auto shop. Yep, I moved around from job to job, but I was always employed. What a dreamer. I could do it better than anyone and wanted the world for my family. I wanted to own my own business, or I wanted to help people. I just couldn’t decide what to do. So, I went to night school when Teresa was a baby. And, oh heaven forbid I let my wife work.
    I was the man of the family—she was to be taken care of by me. And we did