Back to Reality

by Danielle Allen

  Chapter 24

  Two Months Later

  “I noticed you’ve stopped writing about Emanuel completely,” Dr. Summers observed with a slight inflection in her voice.

  I don’t know what she wants me to say about this, I thought as I shrugged my shoulders and frowned a bit. I’m with Ty. Writing about Emanuel is pointless…and painful. It’s bad enough when he pops into my mind and I think about him. Trying to make sense of everything by writing it was just driving me crazy and putting a strain on my relationship. I inhaled deeply and sat quietly.

  It’s not that I didn’t want to answer the question; I just didn’t know how. After three months of therapy, Dr. Summers and I had gotten into a rhythm and I never had panic attacks in her office anymore. If she asked a question about a sensitive topic, I could take a deep breath and move on. Soon I’ll be rid of these panic attacks altogether, I thought with hope.

  “Well, I can absolutely see the progress you’ve made,” Dr. Summers remarked as she flipped through my journal. I smiled in response. For the last three months, I’d kept a daily journal of my thoughts and feelings. Although Dr. Summers had requested the journal twice before, this final time was important as it was the conclusion of the three months of therapy she recommended when I first came to her office.

  She closed the journal and handed it back to me, saying, “But it’s not about what I see, what do you see? Do you recognize your areas of growth?” Dr. Summers leaned forward in her chair. Her burgundy corduroy pants rustled as she uncrossed her legs.

  “Yes. When I read the earlier entries in the journal, I can see where I accepted blame for things that were out of my control.”

  “And now?” Dr. Summers implored with an encouraging smile.

  “And now, I can at least see the difference between things I can control and things I can’t. I’m not assuming the blame for everything that happens to the people in my life. And I’m—I’m forgiving myself. ” I looked at the cinnamon candle burning on the mantle and then back at Dr. Summers. “Well, I’m working on forgiving myself. I have good days and bad days.”

  Nodding, Dr. Summers jotted something down in her notebook before she said, “Forgiveness is key to your healing. It is how you will ultimately find your peace. And I must say, you are making extraordinary progress, Sahara. You are starting to not define yourself or your life by the tragic life experiences that you’ve gone through.”

  Noticing the time, I uncrossed my navy Carolina Herrera wide leg pant covered legs and scooted to the edge of the chair. “I feel good emotionally, Dr. Summers. I haven’t felt this emotionally healthy since before…my dad died.” Just saying the words felt foreign. The sheer fact that I can say the words ‘dad’ and ‘died’ without feeling guilty or crying was proof of the progress I’d made in three short months, I thought proudly.

  “And that is what I like to hear,” Dr. Summers said as she stood and walked to her desk. I slipped on my cream Jimmy Choo ballet flats that matched my cream zipper sleeved Nanette Lepore top and then walked to the door.

  Dr. Summers turned to me and smiled. Handing me an appointment card, she announced, “Your three month period is up. And although you have made considerable progress, I’d like to discuss continuing therapy for three additional months.”

  Taking the card and dropping it into my python-printed Michael Kors tote, I replied, “I would like that.” And I meant it. Dr. Summers had helped me in ways I couldn’t fully explain to anyone. I don’t think I fully understand how much she helped me, but I can feel it. I can feel the difference she’s made in my life, I thought as I slipped on my Burberry sateen trench coat.

  When I got to the front door, I turned to Dr. Summers who was tailing me. “Thank you again. See you next Friday. Have a happy Thanksgiving.”

  “You too, Sahara. Happy Thanksgiving,” she returned, closing the door behind me.

  I hurriedly walked down the steps and flagged down a taxi. The chill in the air made available taxis a little harder to come by. The amount of people milling around the city tripled the amount of a normal Wednesday downtown. Pulling my coat tighter against me, I waved my arm in the air and secured warm transportation home. Climbing into the backseat, I let out a sigh of relief as the heat from the vents hit my face and warmed my hands. It’s going to be a cold winter, I thought as I checked my watch. Oh shit! If I don’t hurry, I will be late!

  Once I arrived to One38, I breezed by the front desk and straight to the elevator. Arriving on my floor, I had already taken my coat off before I had gotten to my front door. As soon as I opened the door, the smell of the pot roast cooking in the crock pot greeted me. I stopped and listened for any noise within the apartment. Not hearing anything, I proceeded inside. Giving Ty a key has been a gift and a curse, I thought as I shut the door behind me and moved quickly into the apartment. I love that he can stop by on his way between Boston and Richland but when I’m trying to finish dinner on a busy day, the element of surprise does not work in my favor! I thought to myself as I hung up my coat and put my handbag on the couch.

  For the last ten years, I never celebrated Thanksgiving. But this year, I’m doing something a little different, I thought as I washed my hands.

  I chopped veggies and potatoes and tossed them into the frying pan. While I let that sauté, I put the macaroni and cheese in the oven. I opened a bottle of wine and poured it into the wine glasses that were on the dining room table. I set the table before leaving for work so I would have less to do after therapy. The rolls were heating up in the toaster oven and I pulled out the cake I made the night before. Smiling at my meal, I put all of the hot foods on warm burners to keep warm while I went to change.

  Showering, dressing and styling my hair in a high ponytail in only twenty minutes was a record for me. The tight Amanda Uprichard dress with the scoop neck back showcased some of my best assets. He’ll like this, I thought as I looked at myself from behind. Deciding against my heels, I kept my black slippers on and made my way to the living room. I hit play on my iPod and lit all the candles I placed around the living room and dining room.

  Eight o’clock on the dot, I thought as I sipped the La Mission Haut-Brion Blanc I ordered especially for the occasion. People run late. I’ll give him a few more minutes, I thought as I put the wine down and returned to the kitchen to slice the meat. I will not overreact. I will not think the worst. There are many logical reasons for him being late.

  Thirty minutes later, I decided to break down and call.

  “Hey baby girl,” Ty answered on the first ring.

  “Hey…what’s going on? Are you okay?” I asked, standing still in the middle of the kitchen.

  “Yeah…hold on for one second please,” he asked before his voice became muffled. “…take the shipment to the basement. All of it! This was completely avoidable. If you can’t get in touch with me, you find Bennett or Milton, and they will get in touch with me. If you can’t reach either of them, you postpone making any major executive decisions. You do not have that privilege. Under no circumstances do you have the authority to make any purchases without my consent. Better yet, you don’t have the authority to make any decisions about my businesses without my consent. Do I make myself clear?” The anger and frustration in his voice came through the phone loud and clear.

  He is seriously pissed, I thought as I leaned against the counter. But that doesn’t supersede my own frustration with this situation.

  “Hello?” Ty growled into the phone. “I can’t believe this shit!”

  Inhale 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Exhale 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, I silently went through my breathing exercises trying to calm down from my own set of frustrations.

  Changing his tone, Ty spoke again, “You still there baby girl?”

  “Yes, I’m here. What’s going on, Ty? You’re angry.”

  “Angry is not the word.” I heard a door slam on the other end of the phone before he started again. “Ava went over budget by a considerable amount because she said it was a good deal we couldn’t p
ass up. And by ‘we’ she obviously meant me because it’s my money she spent.”

  “I’m sorry that happened baby.” I cut off the burners on the stove and picked up the bottle of wine on my way out of the kitchen. “Can you return any of the purchases?”

  “No, all sales were final on the food. And with the holidays coming up, we are faced with an abundance of food and a decrease in customers. Additionally, instead of retaining staff to help shut down last Saturday, she hired a cleaning service after everyone had left. And since the services were rendered, I need to pay them. I was in Bakersfield at the time, Bennett was at Motive and Milton was on vacation. Leaving Ava as acting manager and she failed to follow proper protocol and contact me. My accountant brought it to my attention today.” He sounded so frustrated that my first instinct was to hug him and make him feel better.

  “I’m so sorry you’re faced with all of that. That’s rough.”

  “I’m so mad, I can’t even think straight. And it’s my fault. I should’ve been here. Jimmy’s is barely six months old. I can’t trust it in the hands of some overzealous…rookie. I know better. He taught me better,” he growled angrily. I knew the person he was referring to was his grandfather so I didn’t say anything in that moment. I gave him a minute to process his feelings without cutting in to try to save the day. Thanks, Dr. Summers, I thought with a slight smile as I utilized the skill I learned from her.

  He took a deep breath and blew it out into the phone. “I’m sorry, baby girl. Thank you for letting me vent. I’m so glad you called. I needed to hear your voice.”

  “I have a suggestion,” I started, ignoring the sweet nothings he spouted. “If I were you and I had an abundance of food that if I didn’t get rid of, I’d have to throw away, I would have a Thanksgiving lunch or dinner tomorrow for the underprivileged population in Richland. Most restaurants will be open for those not wanting to cook or for those without families. And while those restaurants will be busy trying to earn a buck, Jimmy’s will be about charity and goodwill. You could not only help the less fortunate, but you could also generate amazing publicity for Jimmy’s. It could even be done from like 2pm to 5pm since you always say between lunch and dinner is the slowest part of the day. And then you can clean and open for paying customers at 6pm or even give your staff the night off and reopen on Friday. It would be a win-win for everyone involved.”

  He was quiet as he pondered over my idea. “I like it. I like it a lot. Actually, that is pretty perfect. Baby girl, what would I do without you?”

  Sitting the bottle and my empty glass on the coffee table, I walked around the room and blew out each candle. I didn’t respond.

  “I miss you,” Ty said in his smooth, sexy voice.

  “I miss you too Ty,” I replied, letting a little bit of the aggravation slip into my voice. “But I am a bit frustrated with you right now.”

  “Why? What’s going on?” Ty’s voice was full of concern and confusion.

  “We had plans tonight. I know a lot of stuff happened with Jimmy’s today, but you could’ve called. At some point, you could’ve called.”

  “No, we have plans Friday. Hold on, I have it in my planner, Pre-Thanksgiving dinner Fri—damn, Wednesday, today. Dammit! I will make it up to you. I can be there in an hour and a half if I push it.”

  “No, it’s already 9pm and by time you get here, it’ll be well after 11pm. Traffic during the holidays can be crazy. I’ll just see you later.”

  “I suppose you haven’t changed your mind about Thanksgiving dinner with Bennett and his family?”

  “I suppose if you’re asking, Hell has indeed frozen over?”

  “At some point, you two are going to have to bury the hatchet.”

  Yeah, in his back, I quipped silently before washing away the snarky remark with a gulp of wine. The alcohol was definitely taking an effect as I smiled giddily in the middle of my living room.

  “So I guess we will see each other...” I let my sentence trail off.

  “You know we would see each other every day if you would just move in with me.”

  Sighing, I sat down on the couch. Here we go again, I thought taking another sip of wine. “I can’t just up and leave Ty. We’ve talked about this. Extensively.”

  “Yes and each time we talk about it, you can’t give me a legitimate reason. Just excuses.”

  “Excuses?! I have a job that I’ve grown to love…that’s here. I’m in a really good place emotionally thanks to my therapist…who’s here. And quite frankly, I don’t want to just drop everything and move.”

  “You’ve done it before,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Excuse me,” I squeaked. “What did you say?”

  “Look, tonight’s been a rough night. I don’t—”

  I quickly interrupted, “Did you really just go there with me?” The alcohol swirled around with my anger causing me to scream my question into the receiver.

  “Sahara, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. Let’s just talk later.” He sounded tired and irritable, which made me even madder. He stood me up. He forgot that he stood me up. And then, on top of all of that, he’s going to throw what happened in the past in my face, I thought as I finished off my glass of wine. I’m the one that deserves to be mad.

  “No! Clearly this is something you’ve wanted to say so you might as well get it out in the open!” I argued indignantly.

  “All I meant was that you and I both know that if you really wanted to up and leave, you could. I didn’t mean anything else by it.” His voice was deceptively composed. The quieter he got, the louder I wanted to be, but I restrained myself.

  “The sheer fact that you said ‘you’ve done it before’ is a clear indication that you meant more by it, Tyree.”

  He didn’t say anything so I didn’t either. Tears burned my eyes during our silence. I took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself down before I said something I was going to regret.

  “Fair enough,” he said evenly. “This isn’t working Sahara.”

  “I agree,” I replied automatically. My heart sank and my eyes instantly watered. I bit my tongue in defiance. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry, I chanted as my heart broke.

  “I have a lot on my shoulders and long distance isn’t working for me.”

  “Well, if it’s not working for you, the best thing to do is end it. Thanks for letting me know. Goodnight,” I said quietly before hanging up the phone and throwing it to the other side of the couch. My phone vibrated almost as soon as it hit the soft surface. Ty’s picture popped up as his name flashed across the screen.

  Fighting the tears that burned my eyes and throat, I stood up and walked to the kitchen. Slipping on my apron, I put away all the food that was prepared. Dishes were put in the dishwasher and the countertops were wiped down. Satisfied with the cleanup, I removed my apron, cut off all the lights and stood between the kitchen and living room. The soft glow of the corner floor lamp was the only lighting as the opening strings of ‘Stay’ played through the speakers. And that was all it took. I curled up on the couch and cried.

  Once I had stopped crying long enough to see, I picked up my phone. Disregarding the text messages that appeared on the screen, I called Emily.

  “Hey! I didn’t expect to hear from you until tomorrow!” Emily greeted when she picked up the phone.

  “Are you busy Em?” I asked quietly, afraid she’d hear my voice cracking.

  “No, I’m baking and waiting for Anthony to get off of work. Why are you whispering? I thought you had the big Pre-Thanksgiving dinner date going on tonight.”

  “Didn’t happen,” I cried into the phone. “He stood me up and we got into an argument about it. And then the argument turned into the moving in together argument. And when I said, I don’t want to pick up and leave. He said, it’s not like you’ve never done it before.”

  “Woah...” Emily breathed. “That was a low blow. Has he ever said anything like that before?”

  “No. Neve
r. And we’ve gotten into a few arguments over the course of our relationship, but he’s never thrown me leaving in my face like that. I mean, to some degree, it’s true. I’ll admit that. I did leave abruptly. And no, it wasn’t my first time. But I thought we had moved past this. I had my reasons. I thought it was for the best.”

  “I know you did girl,” Emily agreed sadly. “Maybe he’s scared you’re going to do it again.”

  “When I left, it was because I thought everything was my fault and I wanted to save people from me. But with Dr. Summers’ help, I understand that everything is not always my fault and I will not assume responsibility for things I didn’t do! Like tonight! He stood me up! He didn’t even remember he stood me up! And then he tried to shame me with my past!” My voice got louder with each example and my tears dried up. I wasn’t mad at Em, I just wanted her to understand.

  “I get it. Totally. And long distance relationships are hard. Did he at least apologize?”

  “Yeah he did. But then I think we broke up.”

  “Oh no… people say things in the heat of the moment. Maybe you two just need to talk with clear heads.”

  “He said it wasn’t working. And maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I was just kidding myself. Because really, if… if he’s still holding on to the past, how are we supposed to move forward?” Wiping the dampness from my face, I thought about what I just said. Even in my slightly inebriated state, I recognized the profoundness of my words. The silence that met me on the other end of the phone let me know that she was thinking the same thing.

  I could hear her T.V. blasting loudly in the background more clearly than I could hear the classical song that was playing in my own living room. Through all that noise, our silence only highlighted my question that dangled in the air.

  If I’m having difficulty letting go of the past, how can I expect him not to? I wondered as I stretched my legs out in front of me.