Margret and Dena left after questioning our daughter, and I just kind of wandered around, waiting for Mike to leave. Ashley was mad at me because I wouldn’t let her go out to see or talk to him. I said that for her to go against orders put the entire family at risk, and for once in her life, she obeyed. Mike returned from the grocery store with bags of stuff and loaded the motorhome. Then he went down to work in his office for about twenty minutes. I helped put food away in the camper fridge. Something about Mike’s attitude made me uneasy and afraid, and I quietly checked the cabinets and drawers as I worked. Upon finding a few small pocketknives tucked into cushions, I grabbed them up. I also wasn’t surprised to discover beer and wine stashed under the bed, and stealthily I removed half of it. He was depressed enough without adding to his woes. Mike was finally ready to leave, and I was anxious and on edge that something would happen. I half-expected him to snap and refuse to go, whereupon Margret would swoop back in to take off with the children. Mike sadly handed me a sealed envelope, reminding me that Ashley had therapy with Kerri in 45 minutes and asking me to take her. The letter was for Kerri- don’t forget it. He was shattered and despairing, seeing as how the little ones couldn’t even come out to say goodbye to him. I wanted to hug him, but his manner was so uninviting I just stood there waiting. And then he was gone. Ashley pounced on me as I walked through the door. How could I just let him leave like that? Didn't I love him? How could I allow her father to go off alone and friendless when his life was ruined? "You don’t understand," I said to her simply, waving off more complaints. "I have more people to worry about than Daddy". The kids were crying- they didn’t understand the significance of the allegations either, but they did know that CPS had kicked their father out of the house. And the phone started to ring. It was Kerri, and she was calling to say that she’d just arrived at church because of something going on at her children's school. She was an hour late with her last client and could we either postpone Ashley’s session for later on or wait until the next day? I said it was no problem and described what had happened that day. I relayed Mike’s enforced departure and Margret and Dena interrogating Ashley. Mike was so much more depressed than I'd ever seen him, even more than the previous morning at church. In fact, I told Kerri, he had left a letter addressed to her with me. "Open it, Julie", Kerri said. I peeled back the envelope and drew out a single sheet of paper, printed on both sides. What I saw made my eyes widen with fear and my hands begin to shake. It was the exact same letter I’d seen on Mike’s computer screen two days before about how he couldn’t trust me and felt as if everyone was against him. The part about having feelings he knew were wrong but couldn’t fight made much more sense now. However, the note ended differently than what I’d seen before. This paper closed with a series of goodbyes and apologies to friends and family members, and it was obviously a suicide note. I started to stammer and cry as I read aloud. Kerri ordered me to hang up at once and dial 9-1-1 while she worked from the church’s end to try to locate and stop Mike. Once again I found myself calling the sheriff as I told them of the proof in my hands that my husband was suicidal. I was told to expect a deputy immediately. I gave a description of the motorhome and was informed that a call would go out to intercept him. Within minutes a deputy was on my doorstep as I recounted a quick version of recent events. He asked for the suicide note, and I handed it over. Then he said that a report had been radioed in that my husband had gone to our church and was being questioned as we spoke. I was weak with relief. Mike called me on his cellphone about a half-hour later. He was headed for Vista View Hospital, a psychiatric facility, and he sounded tired and resigned to getting some rest. But he was also a partially angry. Why, he asked, had I opened the letter and called the police? I explained how Kerri had called, wanting to postpone the therapy, and I’d opened the letter under her orders, knowing we wouldn’t be seeing her. I was so glad I had because what I read showed just how desperate he had become. "No", Mike contradicted. "I phoned Kaiser as I pulled out of the driveway because I was so depressed. A mental health tech spoke to me and said I could get an appointment in Emergency Intervention." So he’d headed over to our church to speak with Gerrald or Hank, one of the pastors. In fact, he was on his way to a crisis shelter when the police arrived and insisted he go into 72-hour hold at Vista View. Mike went on to say that my curiosity had just created more problems since he never really planned to hurt himself. Feeling scolded, I begged to differ, but it was in silence. He really didn’t need me to make waves. So Mike was locked up in the ICU of the psychiatric hospital, and I was alone with six kids looking to me for guidance and comfort. And one of those kids was a 16 year old girl who had done nothing for the past six months but give me trouble and would rather be anywhere but home with me. How was I going to handle her and keep the rest of the family safe? And what would we do if Mike wasn't allowed to return after he was released from the hospital? Mike’s mother and step-father just exploded when they heard the news. Cal verbally blasted me for the way Mike had become so depressed, and Luanne mostly blamed Ashley for the stress he was under. I listened meekly, too stunned to argue, too tired to fight back. It wouldn't have mattered anyway.