When Tiffany arrived at the office Mrs. Brown was nowhere in sight, so she sat in the waiting area in anticipation of her arrival. About two or three minutes later she came from the back room not realizing that Tiffany had arrived. She was singing Kirk Franklin’s “Happy”. “Alright now. That is one of my favorite songs.”
“Girl, I didn’t know you were here, go on back to the Recovery Room and fill out your well-being form. I’m going to go to the restroom. I’ll be right there.”
“Ok,” Tiffany responded and she walked back to the room, now singing the same song as her counselor. Tiffany grabbed her clipboard with her form on it and started to rate herself on her well-being. The well-being form asks questions like how does the client feel about interactions with family and friends as well as how they feel about themselves as a whole.
“Alright, Mrs. Newton, how are you today? You look amazing.”
“I’m doing great, thanks for asking, and thank you for the compliment.”
“I’m so excited to see you this way. You have come a long way from where we started.”
“Yes, ma’am, I have.”
“So, tell me what’s different.”
“What’s different? Let me think about that for a moment.” There was a long pause before Tiffany answered the question. “Well, I would say the most valued thing for me is learning how to let go of things that are out of my control. And then there is this new communication thing I’m learning.” The two ladies shared a laugh behind the communication comment. They both knew it was Tiffany’s worst enemy. “You know, Mrs. Brown, writing those two letters opened up my heart to a new me. Letting the words out on paper was like me waking up from years of hibernation. So now I journal almost every day. And the thought of that used to send me into a complete and utter state of dysfunction. But I have learned how to somewhat control that.”
“There’s that word again.”
“What word?”
“Control, Mrs. Newton. How many times have I told you that you can’t be in control of every situation? That is when you bring unnecessary stress and trauma on yourself. You have to just ride the waves sometimes and trust that the outcome is greater than the mess in front of you.”
“I hear you say that, but it’s so hard for me to trust and stand on that. I was in situations that I had absolutely no control over for so long, I feel like it’s a must for me to be in control of everything. I am to a point now where I’m trusting God completely because I’ve questioned whether He even remembered me. But when I think about everything I have come through, I recognize that He has always been there. Even from the beginning when my Granny took me as a newborn. My outcome could have been so different. It could have been me living as an addict or on the streets living out of trash bags doing whatever it took to get money. I remember saying to myself often that it won’t always be this way. That one day, prayerfully sooner than later, God would shift my circumstances and move me into a position in which I will be able to honestly say ‘I trust you’ to someone. And I can say He has done that for me. I can say without doubt that I trust my husband.”
“You say that as if you didn’t always trust him.”
“I didn’t.”
“When did you start trusting him?”
“When I made the biggest mistake of my life and he stayed. It was at that moment that I knew he wasn’t with me because of anything I had to offer him, it was because he really loved me. He simply and purely loved Tiffany.”
“Wow, that is very powerful. Let me say this to you, Mrs. Newton, and I don’t want you to judge me. I am sitting in this very chair talking to you because someone loved me through my season of wickedness. I used to be the drug abuser, I was just in a position in which I could hide mine from people. I was in college living the life, I only had three semesters to go until I was done. This guy that I had been keeping my eye on for a while stopped me as I was walking into my dorm and asked me to go with him to a frat party later. I guess he could tell my answer was yes by the instant smile that came across my face because he said, ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ And to make sure there was no misunderstanding, I confirmed it was, indeed, a yes. I was so excited about the evening’s activities, it took me two hours to find the right pair of jeans that would complement my shape. Girl, when he picked me up I had been ready for almost an hour. We walked over to the frat house where the party was being held, I met a couple of new people and had a few cups of the spiked punch. The rest of the time I just sat around made conversation with my date and people watched. Once everyone started to clear out, I began to say my goodbyes and started to walk out with some of the girls that lived in my dorm. Before I got to the sidewalk, he called my name. Everything in me told me to keep walking and not look back. But the lust in me overpowered my gut instinct. I told the girls that I was walking with to go ahead and I would meet them back at the dorm. I went with him and some of his buddies to what was called the ‘after hour spot’. It was there that I learned to follow your gut no matter what. It started off great, we were laughing and talking and some were even smoking joints and passing bottles. Now, I can’t lie to you, I was known to smoke every now and then and I was a casual drinker, but this night was the beginning of much more. I had decided to pass on smoking that particular night because I knew I had to take a test the next morning and smoking always made me feel like I drunk a whole bottle of Nyquil. So, once my date finished his drink, he beckoned me to follow him to the back room where some of his buddies had disappeared to. Once we got in the room, I saw they were passing a round mirror around with lines of powder on it. Each of them took turns making the lines disappear in a matter of seconds. When it was his turn, he took not one line, but two, and handed the mirror to me. I hesitated, but I took it. Without even thinking of the consequences it would bring, I put the rolled-up dollar to one nostril, held the other with my finger and made the line disappear. It took me eight years to kick that habit. It wasn’t nothing for me to do a line for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and sometimes, a midnight snack.”
“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” Tiffany said with a look of astonishment. “What made you stop?”
“God! I was sitting at my dining room table all by myself in the middle of the act on a Friday evening. He spoke to me in a clear, calm and soothing voice. I’ll never forget it,” Mrs. Brown said with tears in her eyes. “If you cloud your mind with one more morsel of that poison, it will kill you.” The voice was so clear I had to stop and look through my house to make sure I wasn’t tripping. I confirmed the house was clear-it was only me. So, I sat back down and as soon as I began to resume my activity, I heard the same voice say the same thing in the same tone. I was in disbelief, but quickly came to my senses and surrendered myself to God. I haven’t touched anything other than an occasional glass of wine since. Was it easy to just stop? Hell no! But I had the fear of God in me, I knew then, just like I know now, that He keeps every promise He makes. And that is one I know He will keep, however, I want it to be on His time, not mine. I’m telling you this because I want you to know that even in our darkest hour He was there loving us. He knew we were going to be there before we got there. He himself has allowed every setback, every mistake, every disappointment, and every crisis that has happened in our lives. He did it to make us who we are. But most importantly, He allows us to go through all the turmoil so that when we come out of it, our stories are a testimony of triumph.”
“Mrs. Brown, I just don’t have words to speak right now. I’m sure, that’s why you never wish to be someone else. Just because they look well-groomed on the outside doesn’t mean they haven’t trampled through some dark valleys of their own. You are amazing, Mrs. Brown, you’re truly a living testimony. How many of your clients have you told that to?”
“I have sat in this room with hundreds of clients and I can count on one hand how many know that part of my story.” It’s not something that I’m proud of, but it is part of me. It pushed me to be the person I am today.” The two had l
ost track of time, they had about five minutes to wrap up before the next set of problems walk through the door. “Based on your progress, I think you are ready to visit once every other week.” Tiffany was happy and disappointed at the same time. She had been sitting in The Recovery Room every week for months and wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not. And just as she had done many times before, Mrs. Brown read Tiffany’s body language and facial expression. “Mrs. Newton, stop doubting yourself and your recovery. You are doing very well and if you find that you need to come in before your appointment just call me. But I am more than confident you will be just fine.” Tiffany took a deep breath and said ok. They said their good-byes and headed to the door, but before they reached it, Mrs. Brown stopped Tiffany. “Mrs. Newton, you know I have been waiting for you to voluntarily give me the information I have been waiting on, but since you haven’t, I’m just going to ask. The letter you wrote to your best friend wasn’t addressed to anyone nor did you speak of a name in it anywhere. Who is your best friend?”
Tiffany turned and looked back at her and said, “My husband.”
CHAPTER 11
T he first two weeks went by with a few hiccups but nothing Tiffany couldn’t handle on her own. And, although she had a lot of things to talk about when she went back in to hash out her feelings in the Recovery Room, she was becoming more and more sturdy standing on her new foundation. She had even started to talk openly to Chris about her childhood a little bit at a time. It was all working out in Tiffany’s favor. And as May would say “favor aint fair!”
She was about two weeks out from Angela’s wedding and had just wrapped up the last details. She was ready to have her final meeting with her client before the wedding rehearsal to go over last-minute details and collect the final payment for Tiffany’s services. They were to meet at their normal location and, as usual, Tiffany arrived early to get set up for her meeting and took the liberty of ordering two Caramel Macchiatos. Angela made mention that she was going to bring her fiancé with her to this meeting so that they could put a name with a face before the wedding. Tiffany glanced at her watch, Angela was about thirty minutes late which was not like her. She checked her phone to see if she had any missed calls or text from her that she was unaware of but there were none. So, she decided to call.
“I was in the middle of texting you,” the voice on the other end of the phone said with a voice of surprise. “I apologize for our tardiness, Mike had a pervious engagement that ran over. We will be there in five minutes.”
“Ok, I was getting worried. See you in a minute.” Tiffany had a few things she could work on until they made it to her. She was so focused on the PowerPoint she was working on for her new client she was meeting later in the week that she didn’t notice Angela and Mike walk in. Angela greeted Tiffany as she approached the table.
“Well, good afternoon, Mrs. Tiff.” Tiffany looked up and saw Angela standing next to her so she stood and greeted her with a hug.
“Hey you. I thought you had Mike with you today.”
“Oh, he is here, he went to the restroom.”
“Ok, I wasn’t sure if he drank coffee so I didn’t get him anything and I’m sure yours is cold by now, but there is your normal cup of happiness.”
“Thank you.” Angela was dressed in a True Religion fitted jogging suit and what looked to be fresh pair of Jays. Her hair was braided and pulled up into a neat bun on the top of her head.
“You look amazing, as usual,” Tiffany said to her soon to be bride.
“Thank you.” Tiffany noticed that there something was off with Angela. She was fidgety and talkative, which was not like her at all. While waiting for Mike to join them, the ladies engaged themselves in a casual conversation to fill the time. Tiffany noticed that Angela had started to sweat and handed her a napkin to wipe her damp forehead. Angela removed her Gucci shades and what Tiffany saw was an all too familiar sight, but still, Tiffany, couldn’t believe what she was seeing before her. She felt herself losing control as her anxiety began to rise at a rapid rate. She immediately began to pray. Lord, she is just a baby. What Tiffany saw was the eyes of an addict. Angela’s pupils were so enlarged they looked like big black holes. Tiffany had never shared her upbringing with Angela, but Tiffany has always felt some sort of connection with the young girl and up until that very moment she could never put her finger on what it was. God had just revealed it to her and she was in shock. And in that moment, she asked Him, ‘Why? Why now, God, I’m not ready.’ Before she could wrap her mind around what was in front of her, God sent yet another curve ball. For as long as Tiffany could remember, she had a weird sixth sense. She only had to hear a voice once to remember the face it belonged to. Which is the reason she kept her earbuds with her at all times. She had to be able to drown some people out. Before she could say a word to Angela, a voice came from nowhere and said, “So, you must be Tiffany.” Tiffany could feel the hairs on her the back of her neck stand up. Before she even looked up she knew it was the arrogant, disrespectful man she encountered in the restaurant the day she wrote to her best friend. Tiffany tried to gather herself before she stood to address the man imposter standing in front of her.
“Yes, I am Mrs. Tiffany Newton and you are Mike Wilson, I gather.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Nice to finally meet the man of many hats.”
“That’s me.”
“Well, have a seat and let’s get this over with.” Tiffany was working as fast as she could to hide the fact that she was a nervous wreck. The interaction between the couple was one that you would describe as a father/daughter type. She would only speak when he asked a question or if Tiffany asked something that required an answer that he had no idea about. Like what time the rehearsal dinner started. It took them about twenty minutes to get through what would normally take Tiffany about an hour to complete. While she was preparing the final recipe for services and décor she would be providing, Mike’s phone rang and he stepped outside to take the call. Tiffany used that time to speak to Angela- not as her client but, as a friend. “Angela, do you need help?”
With a look of embarrassment and shame she said, “No, why do you say that?” Never looking into Tiffany’s eyes, she took her sunglasses from off the top of her head and covered her eyes with them.
“Because I know your high. And I know the man that you are about to marry is not what you need.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Angela, look at me.” Tiffany took her hand inside of hers and held it tight. Do you know what you are doing is not only hurting you, but will have a life-long effect on your baby. Trust me, I know. I’m a child of an addict. And you may not think she is paying attention, but she sees everything you do. She is making mental notes and storing them. And the worst part is, she doesn’t even know it.” Tears started to fall from underneath the dark colored frames.
“I have to do something to take my mind off of my reality.”
“Let me help you, it’s not too late. But I promise you, if you marry him, it will only get worse.”
“You don’t understand, he won’t let me leave.”
“What do you mean?” As soon as she opened her mouth to speak, they saw him walking towards the door. Angela quickly wiped the tears away and Tiffany started to talk as if they were wrapping up the meeting the whole time he was away. “Ok, so if you need anything before the rehearsal just call me.”
“Ok, I can do that,” Angela replied with a voice of happiness.
“It was nice to meet you Mike, look forward to seeing you again.”
“Likewise, Mrs. Newton.” He turned and walked towards the door. Tiffany and Angela embraced one another with a hug for their departure. Tiffany whispered in Angela’s ear to call her as soon as she was alone- no matter what time it was. Angela agreed saying she would, and, with tears in her eyes, Tiffany watched her walk out of the Starbucks door.
***
The night came and went and she still had not hea
rd from Angela. She wasn’t too worried because she had an appointment at Euphoric Hands after her hair appointment at Toni Elaine later on in the day. It was the first restless night Tiffany had experienced in a while. And she was not too enthused by it either. Even Chris noticed his wife’s anxiety through the night but decided not to mention it. He had learned over the past few months it was in his best interest to let his wife talk to him about things. If he initiated it, she may become defensive and he didn’t want that. Things had just started to come back together. And he definitely had no desire to disturb that.
Tiffany was dressed and ready to go when her phone rang. She had been waiting all night to hear from Angela and quickly snatched up the phone without even looking at the caller ID. “Hello.” She waited for a second and said hello again. After the third hello, the voice on the other end spoke with a soft ashamed tone.
“Hello, Tiffany, it’s me, your mother.” It was as if time stood still while Tiffany caught up with it. The last time she had spoken to her mother was over two years ago and that was for less than ten minutes as she was just coming to get money for cigarettes. A flood of memories raced through Tiffany’s mind as though she was looking at them through a View-Master. “I was just calling to let you know I was getting help. I have been in the rehab for a little over a month now. I have 36 days clean, that’s the longest I have been clean in years.”
“Hi, Mommy.”
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