Hold On Tight (Take My Hand) (26 page)

“That
doesn’t sound strange. It sounds… wonderful.” All of a sudden Patricia’s
smiling lips morphed into a tight, serious line. Crap, what’d I said? “Know
this though, boy. That girl has been through so much in her short life. And
yes, I take full responsibility for that-”

“Well
you shouldn’t,” I felt compelled to interrupt. My father is accountable for
fucking with that girl’s life – no one else.

“Regardless…
you
ever
hurt her, you
ever
let her down and I swear to God you
won’t get another opportunity. Do you hear what I’m saying?” Sounded fair
enough to me.

“Loud
and clear.”

It
really was time to leave now. Patricia had some kind of meeting and I had to
return to the center. Marianne propped herself against the doorjamb, tapping
her foot impatiently while she waited for her mom to say her goodbyes to Aunt
Sarah and Emily. Walking over to her, I held my arms out in front of me.

“So,
um, is it cool to hug your big brother or not?”

“Not
really,” Marianne answered. “But I won’t tell if you don’t.”

~Emily~

“
He
was happy enough
to take my signature to secure the lease,” Chris told me over the phone. “But
of course he’ll need Sarah’s scribble when you make it back here.”

“That’s great!” Chris sent over the shortlist of flats and houses he’d
viewed last week. After a lot of um-ing and ah-ing, Sarah settled on the
two-bed semi-terrace in Altrincham. It was only a ten minute drive from Chris’
flat, and that is where Dexter and I will be staying until we find somewhere
permanent. “She’ll be so chuffed when I tell her.”

Today was a huge day for us all. It was Sarah’s last shift at the grotty
café and Dexter’s last day in rehab. When I went to visit him later I would be
bringing him back with me. For good.

“Dexter… he’s good with cars right?”

“Um, yes,” I answered, narrowing my eyes in confusion. “Why?”

“I need an apprentice. I thought-”

“Oh my God!” I squealed. “Are you serious? You’d do that for him?”

“No, Emmie. I’d do it for
you
.”
Good a reason as any I suppose. “But I also said I’d give him a shot –
let him prove himself. So, this is me giving him that shot. You think he’ll be
interested?”

“Are you kidding? Of course he will! Chris, he will be made up. He won’t
let you down I
know
he won’t.” Could
this day get any better? I highly doubted it.

“He better not. I’ve not made this decision lightly,” Chris said
sternly. “But… if I’m honest I don’t think he will either. Maybe I’m growing
soft in my old age but, well I see something in him that I like. Even so… I
mean it, Emmie –
one
chance.
And when I get to talk to him about it, he will be under no illusion that I
will
rip the fucker’s balls off if he
dares mess with me
or
you.”

“I love you, bro. You’ve no idea how grateful I am. And I know Dex will
be too. Thank you, Chris. Just… thank you.”

**********

“Are you nervous?” I asked Dexter as we sat waiting for Jeff in his
office.

“Honest answer?” he replied. “Fucking petrified.” Knowing time is
probably the only thing that would ease the intense fear I suspected we were
both
feeling, I stayed quiet and nodded
slowly.

“Chris called this morning. I have some news.”

“Go on… who’s he knocked up?” Dexter ribbed.

“It’s about
you
actually.” I smiled
when his intrigued eyebrow shot up. “He wants you to work for him. Be his
apprentice. He’s already arranged your work permit and got you enrolled in
college. You won’t start studying until next term, but until then-”

“Whoa whoa whoa… slow down, doll,” he butted in. “He’s giving me a job?
Me?
Why? Why would he do that?”

“Because he believes in you. We
all
do.” Dexter’s face twisted into an expression I couldn’t quite read. It
looked like a combination of confusion and disbelief.

“She’s told you then,” Jeff announced, startling us both when he bustled
into the room overloaded with a hefty stack of books and files.

“You knew?” Dexter asked, perplexed. “About the job?”

“Aye. She called me this morning,” Jeff replied, angling his head
towards me as he tossed the mass of books into a messy heap on his desk.

“Wow. You guys do that a lot? Gossip behind my back?” Dexter smirked.

“Don’t flatter yourself, mate. You’re really not that interesting.” In
that moment I realised how much I’m going to miss Jeff’s banter. I know he has
only been doing what he’s paid to do, but nevertheless I will be eternally
grateful to him for what he’s done for Dexter… for
all
of us. “So how’d you feel about it?”

“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.”

~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 are?”

“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.