by Annie Brewer
“It does, you’ll find it Kasey. When you do, you’ll know. But don’t ever let it get away. Hold onto it.” I send Spencer a text to pick me up.
“I gotta go.” I stand up and realize my head is feeling better but my vision is still slightly blurred. At least the headache is bearable now and the room has stopped spinning.
“Noah, please.” She grabs for my arm but I move out of her reach.
“Don’t. I won’t be that guy anymore. I’m going to wait outside for my ride.” I step outside and sit on the curb. I know I have voicemails waiting to be heard. But I’m not ready to hear her voice. Before I have time to make a move, Spencer pulls up in the parking lot. I stand up and stretch, a yawn escapes. I can’t tell if he’s mad or relieved. I quietly get in and buckle my seat belt. “You’re lucky I came and got your ass. I was going to ignore the text and make you walk.”
“I would’ve benefited from it.”
“What were you thinking coming here with her?”
“Dude, I don’t know. Obviously, I was thinking with the wrong part of me.” He scoffs and nods in agreement. “Nothing happened. I stopped it before it went that far.”
“I’m sorry I threw the “Andi and I are talking” thing out there. I wanted to tell you.”
“Do you like her?”
“Do you like Maddy?” I raise my eye brows, and then we both laugh. “Yes Noah, I like her. I don’t know what’s going to happen but I enjoy talking to her. Even though I don’t know what she’s going through, I try to be there for her. I listen and I like her voice.” He smiles. I haven’t seen Spencer this goofy about a girl in well…ever. I smile, happy for him. It’s about time he finds someone.
Chapter 69
Maddy
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I nod slowly, staring at the house that used to bring me happiness. I haven’t been here in a long time. The lawn looks freshly cut and I see my dad’s car parked in the driveway. Memories come flooding back, almost choking me. I feel Andi’s hand on my shoulder. After a lot of yelling and crying, we finally started talking again. I’d admitted to being a bitter bitch and she admitted to being an impatient baby. I know it wasn’t her fault, it was always mine. The emptiness I felt from Noah’s absence was the last straw that broke me. I thank god for her understanding, even if she was impatient. I deserved it, knowing she needed me for comfort and a shoulder to cry on.
“Yes, I want to do this.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” I take Andi’s hand and squeeze, grateful she’s with me this far.
“I have to do this by myself. But thank you so much for your support.” She squeezes me back. As I grab for the door handle, she grabs my arm, stopping me. I give her a puzzled expression.
“There’s something I need to tell you first, before you go.” I lean back against the seat and wait for her to talk. “I’ve sort of been talking to Spencer.” She takes a breath, “Like, we’re kind of dating…or something.” Part of me, a big part is ecstatic at this piece of information. I always wanted them to hook up, they’re perfect for each other. He’s perfect for her. But another part, a tiny, microscopic part is jealous. I know, it’s totally shady and not fair. But I can’t help myself. I miss Noah. And Andi talking to Spencer means she has more of a connection to Noah than I do. I almost consider asking her to try to talk to Noah for me, or at least Spencer. But this is not high school and I’m not dragging Andi into my relationship problems.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I don’t know what you wanted me to say. I always liked Spencer and secretly hoped you and him would get together. I just don’t know how that would work, with him being in New York. Would he move here?”
“I don’t know yet. We don’t know. But I really like him.” I smile and run my hand down her arm in comfort. “So you’re not mad at me for not telling you?”
“God, no. Andi, you deserve to be happy. That’s all I want for you and if he makes you happy, then I’m ecstatic.” I hug her and feel her body tremble against mine. When I pull back, I see her stricken face and it kills me. “Thank you, Maddy. I just didn’t want to bring him up, knowing he’s Noah’s best friend and you’ve been so miserable without him. God, this sucks.” We hug again and my jealousy vanishes. She needs someone who cares for her and will help her through her tough times. I had that for a while, now it’s her turn. “Okay, I gotta go. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck, sweetie. Call me when you’re ready, I’ll come get you.” I nod and get out of the car. Once she’s gone, I study the front door…red, same as always. My nerves run rampant. Would my father want to see me? I need my answers, I won’t leave until I get some.
Images of my parents and I stepping out of the house, watching my father leave for work, my mother pushing me on my swing-set, riding my bike-
“Excuse me?” I jump at the sound of my father’s voice…the man standing in front of me.
“You scared me.” He looks annoyed, but says nothing while he gathers his mail from the mailbox. “Can I help you?” I take notice of his appearance, his shirt is wrinkled and gray hair disheveled as if he just got out of bed. I swallow hard, past the lump in my throat. Tears sting my eyes and I try my hardest to force them back before they escape. “Dad.” He whirls around, almost dropping the stack of mail. Recognition shows in his eyes. “Maddy.” He whispers in disbelief. Then he composes himself and appears irritated and cold. “You shouldn’t have come.” He turns and stalks into the house and shuts the door.
Left standing outside defeated, I fight the urge to leave. But this was my house too once. I won’t run off again. I burst through the door, thankful he left it unlocked. “Dad.” I call for him, searching the house. It feels cold and uninvited and I shiver from the feeling it provides. I don’t recognize this place anymore. There aren’t pictures on the walls liked I remember. The TV sits there in the living room, dusty and unused. I walk through the hall where the bedrooms are and stop just outside my old room. It’s cracked, and I push it open to find my father sitting on my bed. “Dad.” I walk in to see him gripping a piece of paper. A letter. My letter, to him, when I was ten. I think. I try not to think about that little girl, how lost and confused, and alone she was. But I can see her in the forefront of my mind and it brings new emotion to the surface. I quietly sit beside him, uncomfortable. I don’t know what to do or what to say. I want to yell at him, I want to cry in his arms, I want to ask why he left me, why he abandoned me after my mother’s death.
“I couldn’t save her. It’s my fault. I’ve hated myself for so long.” I’m taken aback by his proclamation, so no words come. I sit and wait. “I remember the first time I read this. Do you remember writing this?” I stare at him, baffled. How could I forget? I remember it all, everything and even years later; it’s still just as hard, especially my birthday. “Maddy, I couldn’t look at you. I couldn’t look at you and not fall apart. All these years, I let my grief overrule my better judgment. I felt half of me was taken that day, I knew I’d fail as a father.”
“So you made believe I didn’t exist? Your seven year old daughter, who by the way, just lost her mother that same day? You just abandoned her at the worst time in her life.”
“I was in contact with Jim and Melanie. I knew they’d take care of you.” I stand up and pace the room, trying to figure it all out. “And that makes it better? You couldn’t talk to me or at least try? I was your daughter, your only daughter, your blood. You turned your back on me. We were supposed to be a team.”
“Maddy, I get it. I know I did wrong, I know. I’ve lived with the guilt for so long. It’s all I ever have thought about.”
“I came here to understand why-“
“Because I didn’t want to raise you alone. Because I was so consumed with my grief, that nothing else mattered. Because you deserved better than I could give you and the Harpers loved you as their own.”
“I’m sick of everyone thinking they know what I deserve or what’s best for me. I
should get a say in it. It’s my life too. And I lost you, dad. I blamed myself. I felt responsible for everything. I’ve lost my mother, my father and now Jim is sick. Did you know that, dad?” He looks surprised. “Of course you don’t, you only cared about yourself.”
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” He drops his head, ashamed.
“I wrote you letters dad, begging you to take me home. I blamed myself for you leaving. I didn’t understand how a father could leave his daughter. My letters were always stained with my tears, hoping one day, you’d come pick me up and we could be a family again. Mom’s death didn’t only affect you. I was seven, and not only lost my mother, but my father too. That’s terrifying for a child.”
I start to tremble and my knees buckle, sending me to the floor. I drop my head in my hands and sob. Tears of anger, resentment, abandonment, sadness, loss and sorrow pour out of me, overwhelming me.
My dad finally rushes to my side, uncertain what to do. I guess showing up at his doorstep was more than he anticipated. He awkwardly wraps an arm around my shoulder. It takes every ounce of my being not to throw myself into his arms, too soon. I look into his dark blue eyes, filled with sadness and regret. I’ve waited years for this day, when I can finally hug my father, cry into his chest and feel safe and loved, and learn to heal-together. He begins to cry and I have the urge to comfort him but I watch him. “Maddy.” He blurts through his tears, “my daughter,” I lift his hand and hold it. He’s so fragile, breakable. He’s young yet he appears so old, reminding me how much he’s aged over the years. I’m not seven anymore and he’s not that young, energetic hip man he once was. His hair graying in places, his eyes showing more wisdom and tiredness. I know I need to make things right, no matter how much my conscience is telling me this man is a stranger, he’s still my father. And life is too short to hold grudges.
“I’m sorry dad, so sorry.” I croak and squeeze his hand.
“You did nothing wrong. I’m the one with so much to be sorry for. God, Maddy. I’ve thought about you often, I was so scared you’d hate me. And you’d have every right to. You’re so beautiful, just like your mother.” He cups my cheek and I lean into his hand, needing the fatherly affection, craving it.
Is it possible to fall back into a relationship that’s been nonexistent for so many years? I never doubted my father’s love for me-okay, I did. But after knowing the truth, understanding why he couldn’t care for me, I see that maybe it was for the best. Some people can get through tragedies and turn out okay. Others don’t cope well at all.
“You look so much like her, it’s painful to look at you.” Tears run down his cheek and he hastily wipes them away.
“It’s okay to cry dad. It’s going to take some time to heal, for both of us. But we can do it together, if you want. We can heal and move on and help each other. I need you in my life. I want to put the past in the past and work on the now. I need my father back. Please.”
“So, tell me what you hope to accomplish during your sessions.” Dr. Stanley asks. My father and I agreed to see a therapist, to help us heal and move on from that night that changed us both. It took some coaxing on my part but he finally agreed. I always dealt with things on my own, it was hard to admit, I needed help with my problems.
I’ve found that talking to a professional has helped. It’s only the third session but I can start to discern the difference in my father.
“I know you blame yourself for your wife’s accident. Can you elaborate on why?”
I see his hesitation when he looks at me but I nod for him to be honest. The first couple of sessions were very small, minor issues, mostly getting to know and trust our therapist. The importance of going to therapy, is to know that what we talk about stays confidential and we trust our therapist during each session. “Well, it was a snowy night. Actually, it was a little slushy, slippery. I asked my wife if she could pick me up some beer because I’d just gotten home from a long day at work and it was my daughter’s seventh birthday, she was at a friend’s house. I wanted to have a beer before we picked her up, I didn’t like drinking in front of her. Anyway, I should have known it wasn’t a good night to go out. I thought my wife would be okay, but it was the other vehicle that lost control on a patch of ice, a semi, actually. It collided with our car and ran her into a pole.” Emotions stir deep inside my gut and I feel the nausea in the back of my throat.
He wanted a beer? My mother died because my father couldn’t wait until later to get a beer when he was able to drive?
“And what happened to other driver?”
“I don’t want to hear anymore.” I interrupt, getting angry. I stand and cover my face in shock. I never knew the whole story of that night, of my birthday. I’ve wanted answers for years, and now that I have them, I don’t want them anymore.
“Maddy, please don’t interrupt during the session. It’s important for your father to release his pain and guilt. He needs to get it out.”
“And what about my mother’s? Mine? Our pain, I was seven…it was my birthday. I can’t even celebrate that day without wanting to sob into my pillow. And now that I know, it was all because of some stupid alcohol, because my father was too lazy to get it himself.” I throw my hands up in the air, for no reason other than it gives me something to do, besides punching the wall.
“Maddy, I’m so sorry. I never wanted this to happen. I was selfish, I wasn’t thinking.” And then his words, “I couldn’t save her” come to mind. No, he couldn’t save her, because he wasn’t there. I’m so angry, but at the same time, I’m tired. I’m tired of being mad at him and holding that night, my life, everything against him. Yeah, it was it his fault. But being angry won’t bring my mother back. It won’t help us heal or move on. Shit. And then the nightmares plague my mind, “your father blames himself, it’s not his fault, he needs you, save him”.
I throw myself down into the chair next to him. This is harder than I expected. “Sorry, go ahead and finish. I guess I was just taken aback by that story. This is going to take us time.” I know it won’t happen overnight.
“Thank you Maddy. You’re right, it will take time. You can expect to pick up where you left off. You have a lot of healing to do. But if you’re determined to start over and build a relationship, it can happen. I’ll see to it that it happens.” I force a small smile, reach for my father’s hand and ask for strength and patience. In order to heal, let go and move on, I have to accept the past. I have to forgive. His hold is comforting, but it’s also disconcerting, feeling the fragility, I’m afraid to put too much pressure in my grip.
We sit and listen as Dr. Stanley analyzes everything, asking questions. We talk and talk, releasing all the pent up hurt, anger and resentment the years built. We discuss future sessions, what is expected of us. How to begin the healing process. I discuss the abandonment issues, guilt and fears. Learning I don’t have to tell my father everything from the past but to have a future with him, I should include him.
We opt for private sessions too, which to me is ideal. I want to discuss my Noah situation alone. There are a lot of unresolved issues with that. I’d never discussed boys with my father so it’s a little awkward to bring it up. The point is, I think therapy is really working, getting to the root of most of our problems. It’s been a positive outcome, which I’ve noticed with my father as well. It’s going to take time to fix and build our relationship. I don’t expect it to happen overnight, I don’t want it to. Good, solid relationships take time, to build a foundation and overtime it rises to something wonderful and worth every rough patch along the way. I think of Noah.
I’ll do whatever it takes to fix my relationship with my dad. I need him as much as he needs me. We need each other. My mind wanders to Andi and her family, my family, and my heart sinks. I’m determined to put the past behind us, and focus on the future, whatever it may hold. I’ll never forget my mother. She’ll forever remain in my heart and memory, always. Maybe one day we can talk about her without sorrow, but instead, c
ontentment and peace. And learn to let go. My father needs to meet someone and live happy for as long as he is on this earth. It’s no fun living alone.
“I’m really glad to see you doing better. I still think you need a few more days of relaxation before returning to work.” I sip my coffee and nod, watching the barista make drinks. I really need to keep my mind busy. I may be doing better in some ways, but others, I’m still a mess. I’m just getting better at covering it up, faking happiness. But she’s right, I’m stressed. Jim relapsed and wound up back in the hospital. The cancer has spread fast and taken over his body. Andi’s been a basket case, and rightfully so. I know she’s been in touch with Spencer and a selfish part is jealous. I need to hear Noah’s voice, telling me everything is gonna be okay. What if he never comes back? I gnaw on the brim of my cup, distracted. I told my therapist about the nightmares, they’re less these days.
“Anything exciting happening in my absence?” I snap out of my daze, desperate for a diversion.
“We’re training a new groomer. He’s clueless but I’m giving him a chance.”
“I can’t wait to get back to my babies.”
“Well, that’s what I came here to talk to you about.
“O-kay-“
“No, it’s not bad, it’s just…what are you doing with your life?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you see yourself at the clinic forever?”
“I’m 24; I have plenty of time to figure that out. Right now, I like where I am. I have the best boss in town.” I grin. I get a smile out of her. I know I don’t really have all the time in the world, we’re not guaranteed tomorrow. But for now, it’s enough. I’ll finish school to be a vet and move up. I’m not too focused on it now.
My phone beeps, anxiety sets in. “Hey. I need to go, it’s Andi.” I take my coffee cup and throw it in the trash, after finishing the remains.
