Hold On Tight (Take My Hand)

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Hold On Tight (Take My Hand) Page 24

by Nicola Haken

“Confused,” Dexter answered without hesitation. “But determined,” he added. “Really, I can’t even begin to understand why I’m being given this opportunity… but I’ve never been more determined to make the most of something… of everything. I know I need to make amends for all the wrongs I’ve made, but I’d be lying if I said the future didn’t scare the shit out of me.”

  “That’s not the right way to be thinking,” Jeff said. “Forget your past mistakes. They’re done. Gone. Can’t do jack shit to change them. You need to leave them exactly where they are – the past. If you spend your life trying to make up for them, it means you haven’t accepted them and that will make it impossible to move on from them. As for your future? Well, that’s scary shit for anyone. No one knows what’s going to happen, so why exhaust yourself trying to guess? Just enjoy the ride and see where it takes you.”

  Seriously, this man is bloody amazing. I could already see the creases of anxiousness begin to smooth on Dexter’s forehead.

  “Ready for another Kumbaya moment?” Jeff grinned. Dexter offered his hand in the air, telling him to go ahead. “Yesterday’s history - tomorrow’s a mystery.”

  “Wow,” I breathed. “I think that pretty much sums everything up.”

  “Don’t ever underestimate how far you’ve come, Dex. This has been one hell of a year for you and your loved ones. But it’s time to close the door on that year now. Accept what’s done is done and… well, you know the rest.”

  The rest of the session was spent signing discharge papers and discussing the new therapist Dexter had been assigned back in the UK. Again, it was a private clinic but after an extremely short discussion, Sarah and I decided that between us and our respective wages we could cover the cost. It might be a struggle from time to time, but a necessary and justifiable struggle.

  Jeff also gave me a list of sleep counsellors who can apparently help with my nightmares. Over the past few weeks we have come to the decision they are stress-induced, so I don’t feel in a particular hurry to start working on resolving them. Hopefully, whichever gobshite up there in the sky who’s been dropping all this crap on us over the last few months is going to give us a break for a while.

  When it was time to leave I felt my eyes tearing up. It was like the end of a terribly bitter and cruel era. It was over. And all the pain, heartache, worry and angst I have felt since last December boiled back up to the surface – choking me… consuming me… forcing the threatening tears from my eyes.

  “It’s okay, doll,” Dexter soothed, draping his arm across my shoulders.

  “Leave her,” Jeff interjected. “This is a perfectly natural reaction. She’s obviously missing me already.” A genuine smile erupted on my face and I giggled, snorting back streams of snot and tears in the process. Attractive right?

  “Right, you two. Go. Live. Love.”

  “Thank you, Jeff,” Dexter said earnestly – his voice hoarse as it battled its way past the tears clogging his throat. “For everything.”

  “Nah, mate. It’s on you. You did the hard work. I just sat back and watched.” Dexter held his hand out for Jeff to shake. Jeff took it and then unexpectedly pulled him into a hug. Jeff clapped Dexter’s back a few times with a fulfilled grin on his face before releasing him. “Now… fuck the hell off out of my office and don’t ever come back.”

  And on that note, with quivering smiles on our faces and tears in our eyes, we left The Springs. When we exited the revolving door at the front of the building, Dexter tossed his black rucksack over his shoulder and held his hand out for me to take.

  “Hold on tight, doll,” he murmured as I entwined my fingers with his. “This is gonna be one hell of a ride.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ~Dexter~

  “I can’t find my passport!” Emily panicked, ransacking her backpack and tossing its contents back out onto the floor. “I’ve looked everywhere. What am I-” I cut her off by waving her passport in front of her face. She clutched her hand to her chest and blew out a tense breath of air.

  “It was next to the microwave.”

  “Of course it was,” she mumbled under her breath. “I remember putting it there now.”

  “Relax, doll. This time tomorrow we’ll be back in the UK. We’ll be home… surrounded by everyone who matters.”

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry, I’m just…”

  “Scared?” She nodded weakly. “Me too.” I kissed the tip of Emily’s nose and then drew her close to my chest. I was complete this way – with her small body molded into mine. Whenever we’re apart I always feel like something’s missing. You know that feeling you get when you walk into a room and forget why you’re there? When you’re scratching at your head with a slight hollow feeling in your chest, knowing you’re missing something but can’t figure out what? Yeah… that’s how I feel when Emily’s not pressed against me like this.

  “I’ve got a few things to do before we leave for the airport. Will you be okay on your own till Aunt Sarah gets back from the store?”

  “Where are you going?” she asked nervously. I didn’t miss the sparks of fear raining from the corners of her baby-blue eyes. It seems I have a long way to go to build her trust in me again. And I’m okay with that. In fact I’m more than okay… I’m determined to make it happen.

  “I just want to take a walk. Say goodbye to a few memories… the house, the park. And… I want to visit Freya.”

  “I don’t like that idea.”

  “I didn’t expect you would,” I confessed guiltily. “But I have to do this, doll. I have to go back, knowing it will be the last time. I have to close the door on those memories. I want to be able to stand in front of that house and feel… hopeful.” I wasn’t convinced that would actually happen, but I had to give it a shot. I’ve only ever felt pain, guilt and gut-wrenching heartache looking at that house. That was what I wanted to close the door on. “As for Freya, I know I barely know her but… she made my first few days in rehab… bearable. Guess I just want to say goodbye.”

  “I understand. I think,” she replied, pursing her eyebrows together and nodding. “Do you even know where she is though?”

  “Of course Jeff isn’t permitted to tell me where she is. But he said he can’t be held responsible if I choose to snoop through the file he left open on his desk while he wasn’t looking.”

  “I can just imagine the wink he probably gave you when he turned away.” She was right – he did do that.

  “She’s staying at a sober house in Old Brooklyn. If I get going now, I’ll be back way before we need to leave.”

  “And you’re sure you need to do this alone?”

  “Yes,” I stated simply. “But once I’m done, I don’t ever want to tackle anything alone again. For the rest of my life I want you right here,” I pulled her into my waist, “by my side.”

  “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that today,” she said, sighing happily into my shoulder. “Then hurry. Get your bum back here so we can start this hell of a ride you promised me.”

  **********

  I rode a bus into Old Brooklyn and then hailed a cab to take me to the address I had scribbled on a crumpled piece of paper in my hand. I figured it best to start at my furthest destination and work my way back. That way I could be confident I’d make it back in plenty of time.

  Nerves fluttered in my stomach when I reached the sober house. The people inside were here because they were alone. They didn’t have families or friends willing to put them up and help them through this rock-hard fucking journey. Man, I’m a lucky bastard. I must never allow myself to forget that.

  I pressed the little black buzzer and waited for someone to respond. The door clicked open without anyone even speaking. Gripping the handle, I pulled open the heavy door and stepped inside. There was a small window to my left with a little opening that allowed me to talk to the guy sitting at a desk behind it.

  “I’m looking for Freya…” Shit. I didn’t even know her last name.

  “And you a
re?”

  “Dexter Michaels. A… friend.” Hmm, maybe a fleeting acquaintance was a better term. “From The Springs,” I added. The guy pushed his thick black glasses higher up his nose and nodded.

  “Freya is no longer staying with us I’m afraid.”

  I didn’t really need any further explanation. I knew in my heart she was on the street somewhere, no doubt jacked-up to her eyeballs. She’s lived a horrendous life and I imagine it’s pretty much impossible to accept that and move on while you’re still living through it. She doesn’t have anyone to try for or anything to work towards. The realization of how privileged I am punched me in the chest. If you ever catch me feeling sorry for myself again, will you do me a favor and remind me of that fact?

  “Do you know where she’s gone?” I asked, knowing it was pointless.

  “Your guess is as good as mine. Sometimes, people just aren’t ready to be helped.” And there it was – confirmation. With nothing to do but wonder whether the lost and broken girl I’d shared so many breakfasts with would ever be ready, if she would ever get another shot at life before it’s taken away from her, I left the sober house and began my journey back to my own second chance.

  ***********

  Not wanting to creep out the new family living inside, I stayed on the other side of the street while I took in the view of my childhood home for the last time. The memories were overpowering. A few made me smile – most made me want to force so much shit into my veins I wouldn’t be able to stand for a month.

  If I squinted my eyes I could almost see my mom in the window. Sometimes my dad would have to work away, or that’s what he told us at least, and I always knew if I got home from school and saw her standing behind the glass, ushering me inside by waving her tiny hands around, it was one of those times.

  Those were the times we’d bake, paint, make forts out of sheets… you know, all the ‘normal’ shit parents are supposed to do with their kids. Sometimes we’d cross the street to the park, my park, and play soccer together. Or rather, I’d kick the ball around and Mom would squeal and dodge every time it came near her.

  She laughed during those days. We both did. They were the only days you could really see how pretty she was. Her face was always so sad and she never went out much so her skin was a permanent ashen shade of gray. On those days though, the happy days, her beaming smile was all it took to put the color back in her cheeks and smooth out the deep creases running along her forehead.

  She was beautiful on those days.

  The second my mind flashed to the days where she wasn’t waiting at the window however, the days where she was probably cowering in a corner somewhere… I knew it was time to leave. I’d achieved what I came here to do. I’d looked into the windows of the house and smiled. My business here was done. I didn’t need anything else from the meaningless building opposite me. And so, giving the red bricks and the white porch one last glance, I spun on my heels and left without looking back.

  “Miss you, Mom.”

  Last stop – the park. I’ve spent so many hours in this tranquil place. Most of them sad, though the couple I recall with Emily and Marianne make my heart swell with warmth. Yeah I know that’s a pussy thing to say, but it’s the truth, so as Emily would say – sod off.

  As I made my way towards the familiar trees I’d practically grew up sitting below, I didn’t get a chance to relive any memories before my heart was ripped from my chest. My father lay in an intoxicated heap on the dying grass surrounding the thick trunk. His clothes were soiled - his hair a tangled greasy mess. The sight of him filled me with… nothing. I felt nothing. I didn’t feel pleased or satisfied. Indifference – that’s what I felt.

  His curled up body squirmed when I nudged it with the edge of my shoe.

  “Well well well,” I mocked when his eyes started to flutter.

  “Son…” he breathed – the word twisting in my stomach and forcing bile up my throat. “I need… some m-money,” he slurred. “Not m-much. J-just enough for a r-room.”

  “How unfortunate for you.”

  “What do you want from me?” he tried to yell, but his voice was gruff and frail – just like his body. “You w-want a sorry, boy?”

  “I don’t want anything from you,” I said firmly, squatting to his level. “It’s been a pleasure seeing you again, dad.” I mirrored the exact words I heard from him in this exact same spot months before. “Seeing you with nothing… well, that makes everything worthwhile.”

  Rising upright, I considered spitting at his feet. But I would need to hate him to evoke such a response. As I walked away from him, away from my childhood and away from every bad decision I’ve ever made, I realized I didn’t hate him. I couldn’t even bring myself to pity him. I felt nothing whatsoever. He was… unimportant. As was everything I was leaving behind later today.

  The only people worthy of provoking any kind of emotion from me were packing their bags and accompanying me into a whole new life. And so, without looking back at the man I once cared about enough to hate, I started running. Running to Emily… running towards my future.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  ~Emily~

  “I need to buy curtains today. I swear some guy was staring at me eating my Cheerios last night,” Sarah grumbled as she faffed around with the new cushions she’d bought for her couch yesterday.

  “I’m sure he was just passing by,” I assured her, trying not to laugh at how genuinely annoyed she was.

  “Well he should’ve passed by faster. I feel like I’m living in a goldfish bowl.”

  We’ve been back in England for three days and apart from Sarah’s curtain dilemma, everything is going great. The house Chris picked out for Sarah is perfect. It’s small, but not tiny. The kitchen is separate from the living room and the bedrooms are surprisingly spacious. Sarah offered to have me and Dexter stay with her, and the fact her spare room is so much bigger is awfully appealing, but Chris’ place is closer to the garage so until I summon up enough courage to go and pick my car up from London, it makes more sense to stay where we are.

  “Fancy curtain shopping with me today, honey?”

  “Ah, sorry, Sarah I can’t. I’ve got to get to the garage. I doubt Chris has even looked at the books while I’ve been gone. Dexter’s already there. I’m meeting them both in half an hour. Don’t you have to go to the hospital today?”

  “Yes but not till four. It’s just an informal meet and greet. Would you think I was silly if I said I’m super nervous?”

  “Course not. It’s a huge change for you, Sarah. We’re all facing big changes. It’s going to take a while to adjust.”

  “You’re right,” she agreed with a nod. “It’s exciting too. But, I’m just not too sure how well I’m going to fit into this country. It’s all so… different.”

  “Believe me I understand - I felt just the same when I was staying with you. But it gets easier. You get used to all the little differences. In fact, I think I’ve got some re-adjusting to do myself. Chris looked at me like I had seven heads when I referred to a packet of crisps as chips last night.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever really thanked you, Emily,” Sarah said with a heart-warming smile after a few moments silence.

  “Thanked me?”

  “Yes. You’ve changed not only Dexter’s life but mine too. I feel so privileged to have you be a part of this family. I love you, Emily.” Oh crap… when did the bloody tears start falling down my face? All I knew is that now they’d started, I couldn’t seem to stop them.

  “I love you too, Sarah. You’ve been like a mum to me.” A better one than the one I’ve got, I wanted to say but somehow restrained myself. Sarah opened her arms and I fell willingly into them. I let her cuddle me for a few minutes, feeling safe… appreciated - protected by her motherly embrace. “I’d best be off,” I mumbled reluctantly.

  “Sure, honey. Give my love to Dexter and tell him I’ll see you both tonight.”

  “Okay. Good luck at the hospital. I’m sure
you’ll do great. After all, delivering babies can’t be that hard right?” I winked at Sarah before turning to the door. I heard her chuckle as I opened it and then I hollered a ‘catch you later’ before stepping out into warm, summer air.

  **********

  Chris and Dexter were buried under a car when I arrived at the garage. I didn’t announce my arrival straight away, choosing instead to admire how well they seemed to be working together.

  “You need to remove the engine before tackling the subframe. Get everything out the way. Then, see these tower bolts here? Remove them one at a time – but always double check the jack first.” My heart did a tiny little dance in my chest hearing Chris teaching Dexter. He was so calm and patient with him. I couldn’t help the beaming smile that took over my face as I stared at two sets of greasy-overall clad legs belonging to the two most important men in my world.

  “Oh… hey, Emmie,” Chris greeted, sliding out from beneath the car. Dexter followed upon hearing my name, wiping his oil-covered hands on a filthy rag as he jumped to his feet.

  “Hey, doll.” I pushed my hand out in front of me when he leaned over to kiss my cheek.

  “Don’t you even think about touching me while you’re covered in all that greasy crap,” I ordered.

  “Stop being such a girl,” he teased before purposely smudging a trail of grease down my cheek with his finger.

  “Oooooh, you’ve done it now, mate. I know my sister – she isn’t going to let that one drop. I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you,” Chris warned, barely containing his laughter.

  “Ugh,” I groaned, exaggerating my annoyance just a smidgen. I knew all it would take for me to melt in Dexter’s arms was one of his cheeky winks, and what made me grumpier, was that he knew that too. “I’ll be in the office,” I deadpanned with an overstated flick of my hair.

 

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