by Ava Harrison
“Basically it’s as simple as deep breathing and relaxing imagery. It might sound silly, but I promise it can really help calm angry feelings. I will give you a list of books, that teach relaxation techniques, and once you learn the techniques, you can call upon them in any situation. Also, it might be a good idea for your significant other to read the books as well. That way she can help you if need be. It might feel awkward at first, but over time it will become second nature.”
“So, what does it consist of? Can you give me an example?”
“It’s really as easy as . . . Okay, here. Breathe deeply, from your diaphragm. Breathing from your chest won’t relax you. Picture your breath coming up from your gut. Slowly repeat a calm word or phrase such as ‘relax,’ or ‘take it easy.’ Repeat it to yourself while breathing deeply. Use imagery. Visualize a relaxing experience from either your memory or your imagination.” He waits for me to acknowledge that I understand. After I do, he continues.
“The next part is cognitive restructuring.” I lift a brow, because this I don’t understand. “Change the way you think. This is harder than breathing.” He smiles. “Basically, I want you to work on changing your angry thoughts with rational ones. Remind yourself that getting angry won’t fix anything. You will also have to learn better problem solving. I’ll give you some reading material for that also. Not every problem has an easy solution, so concentrate more on how to face it rather than solve it.
“It seems you have had stressors recently and have fallen back, but over time you’ll have had a good handle on them. I think staying with a course of group meetings as well as open communication with Lynn will be rather helpful. And read the books. I don’t feel you will need weekly therapy, but how about a monthly check in?”
“I think that’s a great idea.” And I do. It sounds perfect. The idea of seeing him once a month feels like a huge burden has been lifted off me.
“I really think the breathing techniques will help. It’s basically what you have been doing with running all these years, but more appropriate for work. I also think you need to determine where this all stems from.” I know where it stems from. My dad. My mom. The abuse. But I don’t say it out loud. His eyes narrow. “If you know, maybe it’s time you confront the issue and try to work through it. You’ll never be able to move on without closure, and please, whatever it is that troubles you, keep an open mind. Nothing is ever as it seems.”
We continue to talk, and once I have a list of books I set off for the store to pick them up. I feel a sense of relief.
For the first time in a long time, I feel I can handle things. Maybe it’s because I finally opened up about my childhood. Even in high school I never talked about it, but being open and meeting once a month to discuss everything might be exactly what I need to move forward with Lynn without the fear of my past rearing its ugly head. I have held so much rage for so long it’s time I finally let it all go. Maybe Mitch Johnson is right. Maybe it’s time I look at the big picture. Maybe my mom wasn’t abandoning me; maybe she was protecting me from him. I might never know her motives, but it’s time I forgive her.
I pick up the phone and dial.
“Hello?”
“Mom.”
“Carson?” she speaks in a broken whisper.
“Yeah, it’s me. Are you alone?”
“Kind of,” I hear a muffling sound and a door close. “Your dad’s not here. He’s in the other room.”
“I wanted to talk to you. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“I-I,” she stutters.
“You don’t have to say anything. Just listen to me, please.” My voice cracks on the word please. Showing me how desperate I am to get this out and start moving forward in my life. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this, and I want to forgive you. I need to forgive you.” Through the phone, she takes in a sharp breath. “I just want to let you know if you need anything, I’m always here for you.
“Thank you. I-I have to g—”
“I know.
“For what it’s worth, Carson . . . I’m sorry.” The phone clicks and I know she hung up. I’m not sure what will happen next, but I do know I’ll be okay.
I dial Lynn’s number next. We haven’t spoken much this week. She’s been dealing with all that surrounds moving into her new home. Luckily for Lynn, since she’s now nineteen, there’s nothing her mom can do. And seeing as she can still attend Cranbrook, and she now has a live-in study partner in the way of a sister and best friend, she’s been very happy.
The phone rings once before I hear her voice.
“Hey you,” she says into the phone. “How did everything go?”
“Really good. Any chance we can meet up and I’ll tell you everything.
“Yes, of course.”
“Okay, great. Tonight. Dinner at my place.
“That would be perfect. See you later.”
A FEW DAYS LATER I’M standing in the kitchen at Bridget’s when I realize I don’t have another set of pajamas. “I need to go home and get some stuff.”
“You don’t have to go tonight. You can borrow—”
“I just need . . .” I pause, hating the idea of having to go back there.
“Your own things. I get it.”
Sam steps forward, his brow furrowed. “Is your mom home?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, but who knows with my mom,” I mumble under my breath.
“Can you find out?” With a nod, I pull out my phone and send a text.
Me: Are you home?
Mom: Why?
Me: Just wanted to know.
Mom: Yes.
I turn to Sam. “Yes.”
The thing is, she never asked where I was or if I was coming home. Usually it cut, but as I stand amongst my new family, I realize she has no power over me anymore.
“I’m coming with you,” he announces.
“Sam, you don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do.” He reaches his hand out and takes mine in his. “I’m your dad, Lynn. If it would be okay . . .” He pauses. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he tries to find his words. “If it’s okay, I want you to call me Dad.”
My heart seizes.
“Okay . . . Dad.”
When we reach my mom’s place, I turn the key and my dad steps forward and pushes the door open. He takes me by the hand, and as we step farther inside he gives me a reassuring squeeze.
“So you’re gracing me with your presence tonight,” she draws out as I step into the room, but her eyes widen as she sees Sam Miller enter the room.
All the color drains from her face.
“S-Sam,” she stutters.
Protectively, he steps in front of me, his hand still holding mine. My mom catches the meaning of this. Revelation dawns on her perfect face, manifesting in a slight twitch in her left eyebrow. Most wouldn’t notice, but I have always been so desperate to know her that I’m aware of her facial cues.
She’s scared; more like petrified.
None of us speak. Time stretches between us in an awkward silence.
“How could you?” My mom flinches at the tone in my dad’s voice. “How could you keep my child from me.”
“I-I . . . I didn’t know if she was yours.”
“You still should have told me. We would have found out and then made a decision how to raise her.”
“You wanted your wife. You wanted your family back. You told me never to speak to you again. To leave you alone. You didn’t want me.” Her jaw trembles, her teeth chattering together. “You didn’t love me like I loved you,” she cries out. Her body shakes from pent up emotion she must have been harboring for years.
“It wasn’t your choice to make.” His voice is softer now, broken from the lies, from the loss, from the past being relived.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was so jealous, so hurt. I . . .” Deep sobs tear through her as tears stream down her face.
I couldn’t speak. I’ve never see
n her like this. So little. So lost. My stomach knots as her body shakes. Time seems to stand still as she lets the pain and emotion flow out and dissolves in heartbreaking despair I’ve never witnessed before. Finally, her cries lessen and then as if a curtain is dropped, she stands tall and swipes away the dampness that has collected on her cheek.
“Now what?” she asks.
“You have had Lynn for nineteen years. I’ve come to take her home.” His meaning is clear and she doesn’t speak. She nods her head once and turns away down the hall and into her room.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” my dad says.
“I’m not.” He raises a curious eyebrow, but I don’t respond. I just head into my room to gather my belongings.
I’m happy I saw that. Watching my mom break gave me the strangest feeling of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance for my mom and me after all.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in years,” I whisper against his lips a few days later.
“I know exactly what you mean.” I feel his tongue sweep against my mouth and I open to him, allowing him passage. It swirls against mine, and then he pulls away with a sigh. “I want to be inside you so bad, but first we have to talk,” he groans.
“Fine,” I huff and he laughs. “What’s so important that we have to stop?” I ask playfully.
“I want to hear everything. I know we spoke, but only about small details. Tell me everything.”
“Oh, okay.” I roll my eyes in mock annoyance. “It’s been wonderful. It’s crazy. I never really understood what I was missing. I guess I never thought to dream it could happen. But it has and it’s incredible. First, my dad came with me to see mom. We decided it was best not to bombard her. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but surprisingly, she seemed somewhat remorseful. Well, for her, at least. She said she was sorry for withholding the information but then she made it about herself, so basically, she said he broke her heart and that’s why she wouldn’t tell him. She felt bad. I’ve never seen her like that before. She was sobbing. In the end, though, my dad told her I was coming to live with him and his family now. That she owed him that much. She didn’t argue or object.” I pause and give a small, sad smile and he nods in understanding.
“You wanted her to fight for you.”
“Yeah. I guess. But I still held a glimmer of hope that she would fight for me to stay with her.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know, but it’s okay. I promise. My new family—you, my father, my sisters—Ronnie—you all make up for her. I spoke to him, Ronnie.” Carson’s jaw tightens. I shake my head and give a reassuring smile. “It went well. Really well. I told him everything, and then I told him no matter what . . . No matter what blood runs through my veins, he’ll always be part of my life. He’ll always be my dad. I even joked I should call him pops so not to confuse anyone. He laughed and then he started to cry and I felt so bad for the pain my mom caused him.
After I left I was happy to go back home.” I smile at the word. God, it feels good to say that. “When I got back home, I think my dad must have told them about my mom. I had my clothes packed and they were all waiting for me in the living room with hugs. They had a Welcome Home banner set up, they’d decorated my room, and they even had a homemade meal prepared. Bridget told them all my favorite foods. She told them I once said when her mom made lasagna it felt like family, and so they prepared it. It was beautiful.” Tears fill my eyes at the thought.
“I’m so happy for you. You deserve this and so much more. You deserve everything.”
“Not sure what I did to deserve you.”
“You deserve much more than me. I’m not sure what I did to get lucky enough to have you pick me.”
“You think we pick our fate?”
“You know how I actually feel about this, about us. It’s predestined. Absolute. It’s written in the stars.”
“Are we written in the stars?”
“In the stars and beyond, to whatever is past infinity.” We kiss again and this time I pull back.
“What about you?” I ask him.
“So much has happened, I don’t even know what to tell you.”
“Start from the beginning.”
“I can do that.” He drums his fingers on his lap, and then begins. “After we parted, I went to one of my meetings, and it had some great information. One of the members referred me to a counselor.”
“Will you start seeing him?”
“I did, actually.” The huge smile on his face tells me it went well and I’m so happy and relieved. But I’m a little sad that I missed so much of his life this past week.
“Wow, it has been a busy week.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” he lets out.
“So, what did he have to say?”
“I have some books to read. He also encouraged you, my significant other, to read them.” Significant other . . . I like that.
“When do you see him again?”
“I’ll only be seeing him once a month. I’ll continue going to the support group, but mainly speaking about my past and learning new coping mechanisms.”
“I’m so proud of you,” I say, and he smiles.
“Thanks, baby.” He pulls me onto his lap.
“Now what?” I whisper into his chest.
“The future is infinite, our future is infinite, and I’m excited to see where it leads.”
MY EYES SCAN THE VAST distance in front of me. A sea of faces smile back. There they are. All of them: Ronnie, Margo, Sam, Olivia—my new family—and Carson . . . my soul.
My mom hasn’t shown up, but I guess I never really expected her. I imagine she and her new husband are off traveling, but I don’t care. I have everyone I need right in front of me.
Bridget squeezes my hand.
Strong. Reassuring.
Through the air, names echo around me and then I hear Bridget. She steps forward, a wave of cheers echoing as she moves toward the podium. I watch as she takes her diploma. I can’t believe we actually got here. My heart rattles in my chest, waiting for my own name to be read.
Gwendolyn Miller. A few weeks ago, all the paperwork came through. I am now legally and emotionally a Miller. They took me in, loved me, and now I’m officially part of their family. Not that I need a piece of paper, but it’s wonderful anyway.
Hearing my name, I stand, tears rolling down my face. It always happens when I hear my name. It also doesn’t help that my dad is standing and clapping loudly. It’s infectious.
I make my way to the principal, and I hold my diploma up to show Carson, who mouths I love you. The love I have for him has only grown. I now know that love is infinite. That there is no limit to how much a person can love, and there is no boundary to one’s happiness. It crosses right past the stars to all infinity. That’s what Carson taught me, and for the rest of my life, I will be forever grateful.
After all the students have walked the stage, we throw our caps in the air. Then together, Bridget and I find our family, and we each throw arms around each other. From the corner of my eye, I see a familiar face come into focus. Stepping away from the crowd, I walk over to her.
“I’m really proud of you.” She swallows hard as if she is biting back tears.
“What are you doing here?”
“I know I haven’t been the best mom to you. I blamed you for everything, and for that I’m sorry. It isn’t your fault your father left me, just like it isn’t Bridget’s fault that Sam decided to go back to his family. I realize that now. I’ve carried a lot of hatred and misplaced emotions inside me all these years, and the only person I have to blame is myself. I know you probably can’t forgive me, but I want to do better. Do you think—”
“I really don’t know, Mom.”
I watch her lower lip tremble as she tries to hold back tears. It must have been hard for her to admit her mistakes. I take a deep breath. She’s strong enough to tell me the truth, so I can be brave enough to learn to forgive.
“I guess w
e can take it day by day.”
She wipes an escaped tear as she smiles. “Day by day sounds good.”
I hug my arms around myself and nod, not trusting my voice. She gives me a small, tentative smile and then walks away. From behind her retreating body, I see my father approaching.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah. I really am.” He pulls me into a long embrace.
Once we make it back to our home. Margo has a catered lunch prepared and is waiting for us to celebrate—just for family. Carson is there. He’s become a permanent fixture in this house, and he’s as much a part of this family as I am. When he’s not here, he’s at The Polaris Boys’ Club. With the assistance of Sam, who has business knowledge, Carson used his trust fund to start a group to help troubled boys who have aged out of The Kids’ Club. Boys like him who need guidance and an outlet for their rage.
“I have a surprise to show you.” The rich timber of Carson’s voice pulls me out from my thoughts with intrigue.
“A surprise?”
“Actually, two.”
“Two?”
“Yes, I think it’s the perfect way to celebrate . . .” He trails off and heat spreads across my cheeks.
Together, hand in hand, we walk the three blocks until we reach our destination. A large retail space that I’ve become very familiar with over the last few weeks. There’s a giant red bow in front and he hands me scissors.
“It’s ready?”
“It is, and I want you to cut the ribbon.”
From the corner of my eye, I notice a crowd has surrounded us. Toby and his friends are among the familiar faces smiling at me as I cut the ribbon. When I lower the scissors, I notice a small box in Carson hand. “This is a promise. Not only for now, but for the future. A promise to love you forever and to always be there for you. In a few years I’ll replace it.” He winks as I open the box. A diamond gleams up at me as bright as the sunlight that glitters across the ocean; like the stars against a perfect night sky. He slips the ring onto my left hand and I look down to take in the design.
“The North Star?” He nods and pulls me toward him.
