The Redwoods

I want him out of the house

Memoirs of an Ordinary Woman

She was crying hysterically by the time I arrived at my office. Leaning against the window ledge, holding her head in her hands, she sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.

She was her usual unkempt self. In dirty clothes and a ripped flannel shirt, she lifted her head and looked straight at me. Her face was red from tears and pain but also from alcohol. Her face always had a reddish blotchy look to it. She drank a lot and everyone knew it. People referred to her as white trash, a slut, a whore, a druggie.

“I need to talk to you.  I need your help with Stevie. He’s driving me fucking nuts”, she cried in desperation. Her son, Steve, is a big pain in the ass at school so it is no surprise to me that he is also a big problem at home. She is a frequent visitor to…

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