by Kacey Shea
“Yeah.”
He slides my soda closer. “Tell me about it.”
“What?”
“Whatever it was that had my baby sis smiling like a loon.”
“Oh, it’s just this fellowship.” I unwrap the paper around the straw and stick it in my cup. “I got accepted into one of the programs I applied for.”
“That’s great!”
“I don’t know.” The timing is all wrong. “I can’t really leave. Not now. Not with everything.”
My brother’s head is shaking before I even finish my sentence. “No, absolutely not. You will not set aside your dreams. Not for him, not for anything.”
“But he’s our father.” What kind of a daughter would I be to leave now? What kind of person does it make me that I even want to.
“You remember who he is, right?” Eddie laughs. “That man never took a day off in his life. He was always traveling for work. Wasn’t there for half of our birthdays. He wouldn’t miss a potential sale or client meeting for anything. Like the time I broke my wrist.”
“Oh, my God.” I was a baby when it happened but my brothers have told the story many times. Eddie fell during one of his middle school games, but instead of taking him for X-rays, our dad made him wait in the car while he stopped in to meet a client. My brother’s wrist was swollen twice it’s normal size. “I almost forgot about that.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t.” My brother laughs and rubs at his wrist. “He could be a heartless bastard, especially when it came to us, but he valued work. You know he would tell you to take it.”
He would. He absolutely would. “He’d probably also make me an offer to stay here and take a job with one of mom’s charities.”
“Hell yes, he would.” Eddie grins. “But you know the reason he pulls that crap, right?”
I don’t.
“He wants to make sure it’s what you want.” He pauses, taking a bite of his sandwich before continuing. “All summer he wouldn’t shut up about you and how you passed up easy money to go work with a bunch of teenagers.”
That doesn’t make me feel better. “He didn’t respect that decision. What makes you think this would be different?”
“You’ve got it twisted, little sis. He was so fucking proud that one of his children would rather make her own path than take the easy route. Ricky and I are different. We like our trust funds too much. I’m content to work wherever Dad needs me. I don’t need to carve my own way to success. But you, you’re brave and fierce and you care—so damn much. The world needs you to follow your heart on this. Dad loves you, Alicia. He only wants you to be happy.”
I swipe away the tears that fall and sniffle back the urge to sob. “I’m scared to tell her.” Mom. “To take this for myself. It’s selfish.”
“Maybe.” He shrugs and takes another bite of his food. “But we’ve got your back. We’ll take care of things here, no matter how they turn out. Mom will get over you leaving because she loves you.” He pops the last of his food into his mouth and balls up the foil wrapper, dropping it on the tray between us. He leans back to catch my stare. “Alicia. After everything you’ve fought for this year, you can’t give up now. You have to put yourself first. Even if it’s hard.”
72
Chase
Alicia never responds to my message. At first I’m angry, but that feeling fades. Her silent rejection stings. I thought we were better than that. I thought I meant more to her. She certainly means more to me. It hurts to lose something you realize you never had. But pride keeps me from groveling.
Old me would have used her brush off as an excuse to get wasted. But the one-month coin in my pocket serves as a constant reminder that I deserve better. That I’m capable of more. I fucked up the other night at the restaurant, but that doesn’t mean I have to spiral. These weeks with Alicia have been some of the most meaningful in my entire adult life. I want more of that joy. I’m not giving that up, not even for her.
Drowning myself in work helps. There’s so much to be done, and that passes the days. I like knowing I make a difference in this community, and strike up new friendships with a few of the guys on the local fire department. By Thursday, the volunteer team for debris clean-up is excused and things are mostly back to normal, including my weekly counseling sessions.
“It’s been a few weeks. How are you doing? How are you holding up?”
“I’m good.” I scrub a hand down my face. “A lot’s happened.” The scare with Tyler. The night at the restaurant. My blow up with Alicia. The fact I made it through a tropical storm and didn’t fall back into self-destructive behavior.
“What would you like to focus on first?”
I take a deep breath and go with what’s weighing heavy on my heart these days. During the last week I’ve thought a lot about the people I’ve hurt through my addiction. “I’ve been thinking a lot about making amends. My friend Maverick.”
My therapist nods. “The one who was in the car with you?”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard, letting myself feel the guilt. “I haven’t seen him.”
“Since that night?”
“Yeah. There’s a lot I left unresolved back home. I don’t know, I was going to wait until the end of the summer. Until my hours were complete. But I think I’m going to put in a request for next week. I’m ready, as much as I’ll ever be, and if there’s one thing these last few days have shown me, it’s that I don’t want to live with regret.”
“I think that’s a great idea.”
For the rest of the session we dig into my fears. What if Maverick refuses to see me? He might be angry and lash out. How I might feel in seeing him again? She helps me devise a plan that includes accountability to prevent relapse and I feel good about it.
I’m ready, or as ready as I’ll ever be. I need to face this part of my past, especially if I ever want to move forward. Because of the storm I’m ahead of schedule on my community service hours, so the timing is right for me to take a trip back to Richmond.
When I call my brother and ask for his help, Cam doesn’t hesitate to make it happen. He drives down to pick me up the next morning. We’re quiet for most of the drive, listening to music I don’t really hear while I internally practice my apology. Apprehension kicks in when Cam turns his truck into Maverick’s neighborhood. At my request, we drive here first. I don’t want to give myself any opportunity to chicken out or put it off.
The homes here are not in an expensive area by any means, but I’m struck by worry that Maverick and Vanessa won’t be able to afford the place or keep up with house maintenance with everything that happened. They’ve lost so much, surely they deserve to at least keep their home. “Hey, what has the department done to help them out?” It’s a question I should’ve asked months ago but I was too lost inside myself. My addiction didn’t allow me to think of anyone other than myself.
“We did a few fundraisers. The hospital bills are covered, for now. There’ll be more though, and Vanessa can’t really work. Not yet. Maverick needs full-time care, and insurance doesn’t cover it all.”
That’s what I was afraid of.
Cam pulls up to the curb in front of the house and shifts the truck into park. “Want me to come with?”
I shake my head, my hand on the door. “No. I’ve got to do this myself.”
“I’m proud of you, brother.” The sincerity of his words cuts to the core.
I nod, not feeling completely worthy of that compliment. “If you need to be somewhere, I can walk home, or catch the bus.” I’m staying in Cam and Jill’s guest house for the week.
“I’ll wait,” he says, ever the protective and concerned older brother.
I push open the door and slide out, my eyes focused on the walkway to their front porch. The steps that used to be there are now outfitted with a wheelchair ramp. It’s a stark and vivid reminder of how much has changed. The hurt I’ve caused. A sudden urge to flee threatens my resolve but I push past it, moving my feet forward. Each step is a little easi
er.
The door opens before I reach it.
Vanessa stands in the doorway, her gaze masked with indifference.
“Vanessa.” I dip my chin in greeting and swallow back the guilt that threatens to consume me before I’ve even made it inside. “Thank you for letting me come to see him.”
She stares me down and for a second I wonder if she’s going to slam the door in my face or tell me to fuck off. “It’s about damn time.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I say, but those words hardly capture the regret and pain at knowing I let Maverick down. Not on the night I got behind the wheel, but for all the nights after when I should’ve been here. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”
There’s still a coldness to her stance but she steps back, holding the door open for me to enter. “Well, this is a good start.”
It’s not until this moment that I glance down. My eyes widen at her swollen belly and my gaze darts back to meet hers. “You’re . . .” I can’t even ask the question.
“Six months along now. Yeah.” She smiles, but it’s tinged with sadness. She walks away and waves for me to follow. “Come on, he’s in the back.”
The room that once was a haunt for the occasional poker game or place to watch Sunday football has been rearranged to make room for a medical bed. There’s a motorized wheelchair at the foot of his bed. The only thing still present are the worn leather recliners and widescreen television affixed to one wall. I recall the day we hung the mount, cussing and laughing, two grown men struggling to follow the directions but too prideful to ask for help.
The memory is soured by the reality before me. I knew it’d be hard seeing him like this—it’s one of the reasons I put it off. But it’s so much worse than I imagined. He’s napping, his face marked with fresh scars. He’s thinner too. But it’s his legs, spread out on the bed at an odd angle that hits me the hardest. Just knowing he can’t move them. That it’s my fault. It’s too much. A lump lodges in my throat and it takes everything to not cry.
“Hey, baby. You’ve got a visitor,” Vanessa says, turning down the television and going to his side.
His eyelids flutter open and he glances up confused. “I fell asleep.”
“You did.” She smiles, her hand rubbing along his arm. “Look who came to see you.”
His stare lifts over her shoulder, and as soon as our eyes lock his smile widens. “Chase.” His eyes sparkle with recognition. “Where the hell have you been, brother?”
It’s not the greeting I was prepared for. His excitement at my presence completely catches me off-guard. “Oh, you know.” I could go with a superficial response. I almost do out of habit, but all the conversations Alicia and I shared over the summer come to mind and there’s only one answer that’ll do. The hard truth. “I had some shit to figure out.” I take a step forward. “But that doesn’t make it right.”
“Hey, babe.” He glances up at Vanessa. “Help me sit up and bring us some drinks?”
“Of course.” She smiles and presses a few buttons on the remote attached to the bed. “You cold?” she asks while shoving pillows around his sides and under his knees. She moves with ease, as if she’s done this a hundred times. She probably has.
“I’m fine.”
She smiles and drops a kiss to his lips before walking away.
I shuffle out of the doorway, not knowing quite where I belong. I’m uncomfortable. All of this is unsettling, but it’s also something I need to face. I owe it to him.
“So, Vanessa and you.” I gesture to the open doorway and take a seat on one of the recliners. “Congratulations.”
“Yeah.” He smiles, his entire face full of pride. “It’s a miracle. That kid’s already saved my life and he’s not even born.”
“A boy?”
“Yeah.” He nods, his gaze dropping to his lap. Silence fills the room, spotlighting the brokenness between us. I can’t remember a time we were together that we didn’t talk, laugh, and razz each other. It’s only been a few months, but so much has changed.
The elephant in the room grows by the second. Inside I’m terrified, not by how he’ll react to my apology, but for any further harm it might cause. As much as I need to do this to move forward, I don’t want to hurt him or Vanessa any more than I already have.
“I’m sorry.” I choke out the apology, my nose stinging and eyes filling with tears.
“Hey.” His brows furrow with concern, but strangely I think it’s meant for me. “We don’t have to do this now.”
I blink back my tears and inhale a shaky breath. “I need to say a few things. If that’s okay?” I pause, waiting for his nod. When it comes the words tumble out of my mouth, straight from my heart. “I’m sorry I took your keys that night. I’m sorry I got behind the wheel. If I could go back and take it all back, I would. I should’ve called for a ride. I am so fucking sorry this happened. That I did this to your family. I know it’s not enough, it’ll never be, but I need you to know I regret my actions that night and after. I should’ve been here. I’m sorry I wasn’t a good friend.” The tears escape along with my apology. I don’t even bother wiping them away. They’re evidence of my grief. Assurance that I’m not completely broken, and that I feel this. Every moment of it. Pain. Resolution. Healing. I’m here. I bow my head, allowing the tears to fall and wash away my sins.
“Chase.” Maverick clears his throat. He reaches out his hand, not quite able to touch me from my perch on the chair. “I don’t blame you, brother.”
A sharp breath fills my lungs. That can’t be. He has every right to be angry or pissed. After all, I did this. “You should.”
“Don’t tell me how to feel.” His face twists with distress, his tone harsh.
“I’m sorry.” I scoot forward on the chair and lean forward on my elbows, my hands clasped together. “God, am I sorry, man.”
“I’m not angry anymore.” His hand pats my shoulder. “Don’t carry this around. Don’t let this one mistake take away the future you have.”
I almost break down, the urge to sob is so great. “How can you even say that? How do you not want to hurt me?”
“I have a lot of fucking problems right now, but hating you doesn’t need to be one of them.” He laughs, but it lacks humor. “Won’t do any good. Won’t change things. Or fix me.” He waits until my gaze meets his. The intensity of his stare capturing my total concern. “I forgive you, Chase. I forgive you.”
I don’t realize how much I need his absolution until the words leave his lips. The tightness in my chest, the suffocating panic loosens enough that I drag in a long breath. His forgiveness is everything, but it doesn’t change what I did. He won’t ever walk. Won’t play ball with his son. Won’t dance with his wife at their wedding. He’ll never put his uniform on again. All because of my choice.
My mistake changed his entire future. “I never would’ve . . .” thrown back those drinks. Gotten behind the wheel. Ruined your life. “I—” I try again, but the words choke back in my throat.
“I know, brother. I know.” Maverick’s eyes shine with the same sheen as my own, but in their depths I see something I’ve been chasing for months. Acceptance. Compassion. I don’t comprehend how he’s okay with this, but hell if I’m not grateful for it.
“Should’ve been me.”
“But it wasn’t. So don’t fucking sit around and piss away two damn good legs.”
A chuckle bursts from my lips and I sniffle back the urge to cry. “You hitting on me, Mav?”
He barks out a laugh, the loud, boastful one I’ve missed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I already got myself the best partner in all of Virginia.”
“Just Virginia?” Vanessa steps inside the room, two beers in one hand and a bowl of chips in the other.
“The entire fucking universe.” Maverick beams at her, his smile so wide and so tender I have to look away.
“That’s more like it.” Vanessa hands me a beer, then kisses Maverick on the lips before placing the open bottle in his hand. �
��How’s your pain? Do you need more pillows?” She shuffles the ones around his body.
“Stop fussing. I’ve got everything I need right here.” He loops his free hand around her waist, his palm resting on the swell of her belly, and brings his beer to his lips.
I set my drink down on the small side table, unable to stomach even a sip. Not here. Not now. Not staring straight into the consequence of my actions. I was wrong the other night. I see that now. I understand why Alicia was livid. She was right. I don’t get to kick back and have a beer or two. I’m an alcoholic. That privilege doesn’t exist for me anymore. The last time I was reckless with my alcoholism, I ruined this man’s life. My own friend.
How easily things could have gone differently. What if Maverick was buried six feet under the ground, and I were sitting with his inconsolable pregnant fiancée? I can’t risk my sobriety, it’s not worth it. It never was.
“Okay, I’ll let you two have your guy time.” Vanessa walks back to the door. “Holler if you need anything.”
We fall into easy conversation after that. For the next hour we talk and laugh, catching up and retelling stories from our younger days. He also opens up about his new life, the therapies and endless doctor visits. His fears of becoming a father and not being enough. I assure him he’s wrong and promise to help however he needs. Every minute is healing. Precious. A gift I don’t deserve. I suppose that’s how grace works.
“Sorry, man,” he says, covering his yawn. “Physical therapy always wears me out.”
“Hey, don’t worry about it.” I push to my feet and stand. “I need to head out.” I walk to the side of his bed and lean down to embrace him in a hug. “Good to see you, Maverick. Thank you for this.”
“Always.” He pats my back.