Tough Love (25 page)

I reached the front porch and heard two car doors open, just seconds apart. Daddy had gotten out of the driver’s seat and opened a back door for me. It wasn’t until I was in the security of my parents’ car that I allowed the situation to be real…the tears to fall…the darkness to overtake me

“DID I EVER tell you about the last time I heard from Brendan? Before now, I mean?”

Mom and I sat in the car on our way back to the halfway point. I had promised Nate I would be home for New Year’s Eve and not wanting Mom to drive back in the dark after dropping me, we’d left Toledo at eleven that morning. Our plan was to meet Nate at twelve-thirty and grab some lunch together before saying goodbye.

“I don’t know.” Mom smiled. “Do you want to tell me?”

“It was the spring after we broke up. You know, I was doing okay. I felt like I was finally getting back to normal. And then I went to my mailbox after lunch one day, and there was an envelope with Brendan’s handwriting.”

“Oh, my gosh.” My mom glanced at me sideways. “That must have been a shock. What did he want?”

“He said he needed help. He didn’t have any money or food. He wrote that he knew he didn’t have the right to ask me, but he was lonely. And he still loved me.”

“Ah.” Mom nodded. “Wow. That would have been...hard for you to read.”

“Yeah. And I didn’t know any details, why he wasn’t at Grandma’s house, but I knew I had to save him.”

Mom’s mouth tightened a little. This was all news to her. “How did you plan to do that, without a car or a drivers’ license?”

“I begged Sondra, my roommate, to drive me. We left at eight that night and drove right through.”

“And what happened?” There was no judgement, just curiosity.

“The address he’d given me was an empty house. The whole neighborhood was asleep. We looked for an hour. We never found him.”

 “Oh, honey, that had to have been so hard on you.” She reached across and gripped my hand. ”Did these last few days help make up for that?”

“It did. Thanks, Mom, for making it possible for me to see him again.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, you told me about your visits with Brendan the first two days, but we haven’t talked about yesterday. Did things go all right?”

“They did, yeah. Mostly I just shared some of my favorite moments with him.”

“I bet that was nice.”

I smiled. “It was.” We sat in silence for a few minutes and watched the northern Ohio farms pass by. “Would you like to know some of them? They might not be easy for you to hear.”

“You know what, you're an adult now and all of that is behind us.” She reached her right hand over to squeeze mine. “I'd love to.”

I took the next forty-five minutes and told her about that night at the recital, our first kiss on the swing set, the summer days we spent just sitting and talking about what we thought would be our future. I shared the songs we would sing to each other and why they meant so much to us. I explained how he made me feel important and loved when we were together; like I was the only girl in the world. I told her about the evening we spent together with Daren back in 1993, just before what should have been the best summer of my life began to fall apart again.

“I know it was my decision to kiss him and allow him to pull me back in, but Mom...gosh, he was always so good at that.” I shook my head at the memories and began to cry before continuing. “So damn good at dragging me back into his circle of influence. I tried so many times to be strong enough to run away, but with one touch, all my fragile strength would just vanish.”

“Oh, honey, you can't blame yourself completely. Hasn't therapy taught you that?”

“It did, yeah. It's just--”

“I know, easier said than done, right? But at the same time, Brendan knew exactly what he was doing with you. He knew how fragile you were; I think that's one of the reasons he attached himself to you. But once you figured out he was the one keeping you down, you found a way to climb back up off your knees.”

I could hear admiration in her voice and knew she and Dad were proud of me. After the years of hurt and torment I had put them through, I loved being able to own the fact that I had overcome this. I had finally walked away from my addiction and, with help from my family, friends and my faith, found love again.

“That's true. Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too, honey. Now, grab a napkin and wipe away your smudged makeup because you are about ten minutes from seeing your husband.”

“HONEY, ARE YOU ready?”

I took one last look around my bedroom to make sure I wasn’t forgetting something. “Yep, I think so. Let’s go!”

I followed Mom down the stairs, out the door and to the car. I'd already said my goodbyes to my oldest brother, Steve, and to Aimee, so I was ready to hit the road.

I sat in the backseat thinking of the past year. Almost one ago to the day, we had made the same trip, driving three hours to Anderson for my first year of college. Yes, the drive was the same but the journey–well, that was all new.

The last two weeks had been very hard. Physically walking away from Brendan was much easier than I thought it would be. But as usual, that proved to be misleading, because walking away was much more than simply putting one foot in front of the other. It was trying to forget his voice, the way he smelled...it was restless nights, afraid to sleep or risk seeing his face. It was long conversations with my parents, discussing the past and fearing for my future.

My academic fate was not an issue. As always, I would dig deep and find the strength to face my classes, do my homework, be the good student. No, that was not a problem. The uncertainty was the HIV.

All the clinics and doctors said testing should continue for six months. Brendan and I last had unprotected sex to celebrate my
nineteenth birthday. February seemed so far away, but I knew it was one of the most important decisions I could make for myself. I wanted to be sure my status was negative, so with my parent's help, I resolved to have testing completed for the next year, rather than just the recommended six months. I figured getting some blood drawn every three months for the next year was a small price compared to the life I wanted to have.

Soon it was time to stop at our favorite spot for lunch: the Pizza Hut in New Haven. As we waited for our food, we talked about the last time we had been here; when I made a deal with my folks to finish my freshman year.

“I am so glad I listened to you, Mom. Lord only knows…”

“Now, stop that,” she said. “The point is we made the right choice together and here we are. I have faith in our Lord things are going to be just fine.”

“You're right,” I sighed and then smiled. “Let's eat!”

The rest of our drive was fun, singing songs and laughing together. I felt good. Despite the hurt, I could see the light again. It had been a very long time.

Meyer Hall was right next to the dorm from my freshman year. Although it was busy at Meyer, there was no comparison with things going on over at the freshman girls-only Morrison. I smiled while I watched the activity, remembering how I felt a year ago, thinking once again about the differences that occurred in me during that passing of time.

The next hour or two was spent moving my belongings from the car to my room that thankfully was on the first floor. Every few minutes, the action would stop as I saw a friend from the previous year. There was a lot of hugging and small conversation, with promises to catch up more in the coming days.

I was able to focus on my responsibilities. There was a lot to do. But I knew the pain was coming. Once my parents left and my roommate was out for one reason or another, it would rain down. But the past two weeks had taught me a valuable lesson: let it. Allow the pain to do what it will so that moving on was possible. Otherwise, the pain came and buried me so far down, there was no escape.

It did not take long for word to get around that Brendan and I had broken up. Most of my closest friends were sympathetic, but I could tell they were happy about it. And I think they could sense I was happier, too. I started counseling to help me overcome the hurt and guilt. I had ruined many relationships over those fourteen months, and there was a lot of repairing to do.

Some of the reconciliations my counselor suggested were easy to take care of, but others weren’t. I wrote notes to Colleen, June and a few other friends thanking them for their support. I sat down and wrote a long letter to Aimee, telling her just how much she meant to me. Then I tackled what I wanted to say to Rosie and Kristen.

I could finally see that what they did--ending our friendship, but continuing to pray--was in my best interest. I needed to express my gratitude and talk with them about working on forgiveness. I wanted them both to know I understood their reasons and appreciated them. I ended by telling them I hoped we could be friends again.

By the time we were all leaving for another month-long winter break, I was feeling whole again. My support system was once again intact, my studies were going well, and I was still HIV negative. For the first time in over a year, I was excited to spend the holiday season with my family.

“WILL YOU HELP me color my hair?”

Aimee and I were sitting in her living room, catching up after the first semester of my sophomore year.

“Sure,” she responded. “What color are you thinking?”

“I don‘t know, something dramatic. Totally different than my natural color. Red, maybe?”

She thought for a moment, studying my features, moving her head back and forth like beauticians do.

“I’m not feeling red. How about dark brown?”

“You know what, let’s do it!”

As she turned me from blonde to brown, Aimee gave me updates on her family. Her mom and new step-dad Mike were completely in love.

“I think it's her best marriage yet,” she told me. Billy, Aimee's older brother, was doing all right but still hanging with the wrong crowd for the most part.

“How about Grandma and Grandpa? How are they?” I asked.

“Oh, you know them,” she said. “They never change. Grandpa still works too much and Grandma Nancy is still raising Hannah and Natalie.”

I chuckled as memories of the past couple of summers rolled through my head. “I would love to see them,” I mused.

She thought for a second, her fingers still entangled in my hair. “They’re having a Christmas party next week. Why don't you come?”

“That would be great! I could see all of them at one time.” Then I remembered. “What about Brendan, though?”

“What about him?” she shrugged.

“I don't know if I'm ready to face him,” I confessed.

“Ness, it's been four months.”

I sighed. “I know that, it's just...I don't know...not so simple.”

She finished piling the hair on top of my head, then came around to the chair I had my feet propped on. I swung them to the side so she could sit down. “Okay, tell you what. We attend the party, and if things don't go well, if you want to leave for
any
reason, you said the word. Deal?” There was no sarcasm in her voice, no mockery in her eyes. All I saw was love.