by Nicola Haken
Whoa there… This shit was getting way too serious way too fucking fast. This young girl was looking for someone to look up to. Someone responsible, wise… someone to support her. She was looking for a big brother – like Chris is to Emily. A rock.
I am in no way ready for that shit.
Am I?
“I understand if you don’t want to play a big part in her life. You don’t even know her. But… I’d appreciate it if you could at least meet her. She’s a sweet girl. She deserves a chance to meet her brother – her flesh and blood.”
Wow. Way to make me feel like a cunt in ten seconds flat. It felt like she was begging me – almost as if she was trying to ‘sell’ me the idea of meeting my own freakin’ sister.
“It’s not that. I do want to meet her. I just… well I doubt I’m the strong big brother she’s expecting… or deserves.”
“I know about your struggles, Dexter,” she said, sounding almost compassionate. I wondered how much Aunt Sarah and Emily had told her but then realized she probably had access to a rap sheet longer than her arm on me. “And to be honest it scares the hell out of me that Marianne might feel so alone with the things she’s been through that she takes a similar path. So, I guess I’m hoping… that if you allow her to build on this connection she already feels with you… it will give her some sense of resolution… of strength… peace”
Jesus… pressure much?
“You can do that for her, Dex,” Emily assured, placing her tiny hand on my shoulder and squeezing gently. “You’ll be an amazing big brother.”
“I’ll try,” I said. That’s all I can do, right? Give it my best shot. I decided in that moment I would add it to my list… then it will have to happen.
“Thank you,” Patricia said, sounding genuinely… grateful? Relieved? “We leave next Thursday. Can we arrange something before then?”
“Umm…” Did she know I was in rehab?
“If you can’t get another day-pass from the clinic, I can bring her there?” Clearly she did.
“I never mentioned Dexter being in the clinic,” Aunt Sarah piped up.
“No. You didn’t. But… I felt it only right that I ran some checks before I introduced him into my daughter’s life.” If it didn’t make perfect sense I would’ve been pissed. But how could I argue with a mother wanting the best for her little girl? Sure, I’m not convinced the best is me, but maybe it’s time I started taking notice of whatever those closest to me think. Let’s face it, my own instincts haven’t treated me too well so far.
“I can be wherever you need me to be. I intend to stay until I’ve completed my program, but I can leave for the day whenever I want.”
“Well I think it’s best we stay clear of the house. I don’t feel comfortable going back there. It’s on the market now, and I plan to stay in a hotel until we leave next week. If you don’t mind, I would like to bring her here.”
That was fine by me but I looked to Aunt Sarah for confirmation. This was her place after all.
“I don’t mind at all,” Aunt Sarah agreed.
“Thank you. I am so very grateful… to all of you. I take responsibility for the part I played in everything Kevin has put you through and… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever be sorry for being afraid. I would hate to think my sister blamed herself and so I don’t think it’s fair to expect you to either,” Aunt Sarah answered. Probably for the best. I’m useless with compassionate crap.
“That’s very gracious of you, Sarah. I’ll be in touch soon. Most likely tomorrow. But now, I must get back to Marianne. She’s with a friend but I don’t want to be away from her for too long just now.”
It wasn’t until Patricia backed up a little towards the door, I realized we were all still standing in the same half circle where we first greeted her. Not one of us had moved an inch.
“Where is he now?” I asked as Patricia adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “My father?”
“I don’t know,” she confessed, the flicker of fear still burning brightly behind her eyes. “If he plans to leave Ohio, I don’t think he has yet. I’ve left him with nothing. He’d be lucky to afford a cab to City Hall.”
“And you really believe he’s gonna let this drop?” I quizzed, dumfounded. I couldn’t see it myself.
“You have no idea what the people after him are capable of. Your father is a coward. He won’t risk them finding him.” I nodded in hesitant agreement. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” she reiterated to Aunt Sarah. Then, with a soft, grateful smile, Patricia turned and left.
“Well, holy fuck,” I choked out.
“Yeah.”
“Yes,” Aunt Sarah and Emily agreed in unison. “Holy fuck indeed, honey.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
~Emily~
“So how’d it go?” Jeff asked, seemingly addressing both of us as his eyes swept over Dexter and me in turn. He was referring to Dexter’s ‘night out’. Jeff had called this morning and asked if we could all come back to the centre with him and attend a session together. Sarah had to work, so it was just the two of us.
“Good,” Dexter answered. “Great, actually,” he added with the kind of beaming smile I’d missed so much on his beautiful face.
“Okay, so getting laid aside… how was everything else?” Dexter shook his head and bit down on his top lip to stop himself from laughing. Me? I went London Bus red.
“Well,” I began. “We had a visit from Dexter’s… would you class her as your stepmum?”
“No. I most certainly fucking wouldn’t,” Dexter fired back. Jeff propped his elbows on his desk and leaned forward, appearing suddenly very interested.
“Soooo?” Jeff probed when the room fell uncomfortably silent. “What happened? She have word on your dad?”
“He’s left apparently. Don’t know where he is and I don’t care. But… she wants me to meet my… sister. Fuck that still sounds so freakin’ weird.”
“And you don’t want to?”
“No, I do. It’s just… “
“You think she deserves better than you,” Jeff answered for him.
“Well doesn’t she?”
“Why does she? Sounds like a spoilt little mare if she thinks she’s so special she can’t possibly have anyone with flaws in her life.”
“She doesn’t think that,” Dexter spat. “She’s just a kid.”
“Ah, so you’re surmising again,” Jeff pointed out with what I suspected was intended patronisation. “So this is your issue, not hers.” And just like always, the point Jeff was trying to make became apparent.
“God you can be an irritating bastard. You know that right?”
“I live for it,” Jeff beamed with a mischievous grin. “Though, you wouldn’t find what I’m saying irritating if you thought it wasn’t true. I know you, Dex… you’d argue with me. You only toss the insults around when you know you’re coming up short. When are you meeting her?”
“Tomorrow I think. Patricia’s taking her away next week. For good.”
“So tomorrow’s goodbye?” Jeff asked. “For good?”
“Don’t think so,” Dexter answered. “I think it’s intended for us to have a relationship entailing the odd letter, cards at Christmas… that kinda thing.”
Dexter and Jeff spoke for a little while longer about his impending meet with his sister. By the end of it Dexter was shedding a whole new light on the situation. As usual Jeff had managed to wheedle his thoughts in a more positive direction without actually telling him how to do it. I didn’t believe in magic until I met Jeff. But if he’s not got supernatural powers then I’m the pink bloody Power Ranger.
Looking at his watch and deciding we’d covered enough for today, Jeff stood up ready to see us out of his office.
“Wait,” Dexter called. Jeff sat back down and nodded his head. “I just feel like I should put this out there. You know, be honest and all that shit.”
My stomach flipped.
“We’re all ears, mate.”
&n
bsp; “The first thing that entered my head when I found out my dad’s wife was coming over… was scoring a bag of shit.”
I was totally exaggerating a second ago. Now my stomach flipped. And by flipped I mean catapulted from my body and into a pool of acid.
I opened my mouth to… I don’t know, reply? Gasp? Vomit? But Jeff beat me to it.
“So why didn’t you?”
“Lots of reasons,” Dexter shrugged.
“Care to elaborate?”
“I’m getting to that! Christ, dude… ever heard of a little patience?”
“Nah. Patience bores me. So hurry the fuck up, eh?” Jeff replied, tapping his finger against his watch. Despite the confession that had just left Dexter’s mouth, I managed a small chuckle.
“Firstly, although I wanted it for a few minutes… and that’s all it was – a few minutes,” he repeated, looking straight at me with insistent eyes. “I didn’t need it. Then I thought back to that day on the bench and the satisfied gleam in my dad’s eyes when he saw me…”
“What day on the bench?” I interrupted. Dexter went on to explain a run in with his father while I was back in England. Hatred for his father and guilt for leaving Dexter alone battled away inside me until Jeff gave me a reprimanding look as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.
“Accept it,” Jeff mouthed while Dexter gathered his breath.
“And move on,” I muttered to myself.
“So anyway,” Dexter continued. “I don’t ever want to give him a reason to look so fucking pleased with himself again. I don’t want to be the failure he always thought I would be. I won’t be that person… I won’t give him the satisfaction.” Does it make me a really selfish and egotistical bitch that I couldn’t help feeling a little hurt he’d not mentioned me as one of his reasons for staying strong, rather than just a determination to prove his father wrong? “Then of course, there’s this girl right here,” he said with a smile so genuine, so contented… it made my bottom lip wobble.
So never mind about the selfish and egotistical question… the answer is yes. I should’ve had more faith in him. Remind me to add patience to my New Life list when I get home…
“I won’t let you down again, doll. I’m glad Aunt Sarah isn’t here because I know this is gonna make me sound like a selfish piece of shit when I say this, but… I feel like I’ve finally got something to live for. Not just survive for… live for. I want a life with you, Emily. I want a house filled with all your girly shit. I want friends that come round for dinner only for them to fuck it up again…” My heart panged at the memory of my and Rachel’s Thanksgiving disaster dinner. I miss her.
“I want to come home from work and feel you up while you’re doing the dishes. I want to argue over whether we get a leather or fabric couch. I want… I want a family. I want a family with you.” Holy crapballs was he talking about children? “Yes, doll. I want babies with you,” he added. Clearly my face portrayed the astonishment I felt inside. “Loads of them. I want to watch them grow inside you. I want to help you take care of them. I want us to give those babies everything we never had. And with you as their mom, they’ll be the luckiest babies in the world.”
Okay so this had turned into one of those rare moments where if I wanted to continue breathing… I needed to swear.
“Holy fuck.”
“You know, you might wanna get her opinion on that first, mate,” Jeff interjected, smirking at Dexter. Hold up… did Dexter just… Oh my God he so did…
“You’re blushing!” I pointed at him and everything. There was no way I was letting this monumental moment go unnoticed.
“I just want it so bad, doll. All of it. But… it scares the fuck outta me that even though it was only for a few minutes, I still wanted to score last night.” The smile on my face dissolved in an instant. I had no idea how to respond to that because the truth is, I don’t ever think I will understand what he’s been through. So, I looked to Jeff.
“You always will, Dex. That’s never going to go away.” Dexter’s neck jerked back in disbelief. “No point in lying to you, mate. You know the score… pardon the pun… there’s no cure for addiction.”
“I’ve never really stayed clean for any length of time. I’ve never felt this kind of determination before now. I guess I was just hoping, the more time that passed…” Dexter trailed off, giving up on whatever he was about to say.
“Well it’s been eight years for me it’s still the first thing I think of when shit hits the fan.” I’m pretty sure I actually gasped, but I was too stunned to be certain.
“What do you… are you saying… are you…”
“What? You think people with decent jobs can’t be recovering addicts? You think the fact you screwed everything up once in your life means you can’t make something of yourself?”
“Well… no. I’m just surprised that’s… actually that’s bullshit. Yes. Yes that’s exactly what I thought.”
“And do you see me different now? Think I’m scum?”
“Fuck no! Why would I?”
“Because that’s what you expect others to think of you when they find out.” There he went again – twisting things, making sense. And I could tell by Dexter’s suddenly furrowed brow, his thought process was in the middle of changing.
“What stops you from giving in? What stops you having ‘just a little’?” Dexter asked curiously.
“Oh come on, mate you know as well as I do there’s no such thing as ‘just a little’. You see, the trouble with coke, or heroin in my case, is it’s a little bit moreish. Like biscuits. If you don’t want to get fat, don’t risk going for that first biscuit.” Dexter and I both laughed. This guy is so cool. He’s so casual, sometimes even flippant…yet at the same time you know he takes what he does extremely seriously. And he does it well.
“Yeah. It’s just the same as eating too many cookies,” Dexter mocked, unable to stop his lips turning up into a smile. “So how do you get past that? How do you stop yourself reaching for that first cookie?”
“Changes every time,” Jeff replied. “It will for you too. You can’t plan when the craving’s going to hit you therefore you can’t plan what will give you the strength to tell it to get fucked. And if you spend your life trying to figure it out… waiting for it to happen, you’ll just be bloody miserable. You’re an addict, Dex. Accept it…”
“And move on,” Dexter and I both finished for him.
“You know that’s starting to creep me the fuck out,” Dexter announced. “It’s like we’ve joined some kind of freakin’ cult.”
“But you also know I’m talking sense. Think about it… if you never take a step forward, you’ll always stay exactly where you are.”
“You’re doing it again,” Dexter said, raising an eyebrow at Jeff. “The walking textbook thing.”
“Yeah well, I’ve got to use some of the shit they teach us at Med school or they’ll fire my arse.”
“You can be such a douche sometimes,” Dexter mocked, shaking his head and chuckling.
“A genius douche I think you’d agree?”
“I’ll let you know the answer to that when you discharge me.”
“You know, Dex? I think we’re almost there.” I glanced towards Dexter and saw the blood crawl from his cheeks and pool around his broad neck.
“You… you do?” he asked – his gruff voice stuttering in disbelief.
“Don’t underestimate how far you’ve come. You’ve really fought this time, Dex. You’ve done everything I’ve asked of you and offered even more. And just because you’re leaving here doesn’t mean the work stops. I won’t be letting you get away that easy, mate.” Reassurance swam through my veins, calming the rapid beat of my heart. It felt good to know Dexter would have someone ‘on the outside’ so to speak, who truly knew what they were doing.
“What about when we move back to the UK?” I asked nervously, worried that balloon of reassurance I’d just inflated was about to be popped. Sarah had her work permit and Chris had
narrowed his home search down to two flats and a terraced house. He’s emailing the details over later today. Obviously the UK has therapists, doctors and drug counsellors and whatnot, but I doubt a single one of them will be able to get through to Dexter the way Jeff has.
“I’ve got colleagues there I can pass you both on to. It’s not just Dex remember… don’t forget to keep working on you. You’ve not mentioned the nightmares during our last few sessions. How’s that going?”
“I haven’t had any. And… well since I decided you were right, and that I intend to talk to my parents about what happened, I feel a lot more positive about everything,” I admitted honestly. I’m nervous as hell about that conversation but nevertheless I know it’s a discussion that needs to happen.
“See? I really am amazing,” Jeff winked. “And so are the guys I’m going to put you in touch with back home. I’ve been through Dex’s history. I know about the treatments he’s received in the past and how he’s responded to them…”
“I’m right here you know,” Dexter interrupted.
“Pipe down, arsewipe,” Jeff mock-scolded. “As I was saying, Emily…” he flashed Dexter a what-you-gonna-do-about-it look while he made a point of accentuating my name. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly into the whole conventional therapy scene, and neither are the guys you will meet in the UK. I’m not saying other ways are wrong, just that I don’t think that’s the way forward for Dexter. Mainly because… my way is better.” A smile crawled up just one side of Jeff’s face. He has a cracking sense of humour and he knows it too.
We ended the conversation with some light-hearted banter. Jeff told us a joke he’d heard from a colleague the day before – a joke so bad it was impossible not to laugh. At him, not with him. Here, see what you think…