Finding A Way (2 page)

Derrick made reservations at a fancy restaurant in the city just outside our hometown. It’s an Italian restaurant where the staff is almost as amazing as the food. The chicken parmesan has been my favorite dish since we first came here.

“Reservation for Derrick,” he tells the waitress who is perched at her podium.

She checks for his name in her reservation book before confirming our table is ready. We follow the woman who has introduced herself as Kandace. She shows us to a corner table which overlooks the fountains in the courtyard.

“May I get you both something to drink?” Kandace asks us.

I flick my eyes over to Derrick and I know he’s dying to order something alcoholic. So, I order for us.

“Two waters, please. Thank you, Kandace.”

She nods her head, spinning on her heel to get our drinks without hesitation.

Derrick clears his throat from across the table, a guilty look playing on his face.

“Thanks, Cal. I appreciate that. Old habits die hard, you know?”

“I know, Derrick. It’s okay. We’ll take baby steps. You don’t have to do this alone. I promise you. The first step was not bringing your I.D. with you.”

I want to give him reassurance. I want him to understand I support him getting help. Derrick may have a drinking problem, but today is the day everything changes. He can finally get the help he needs.

His hands reach for mine across the table where they envelope each other. The becoming warmth an inviting feeling.

“Thank you, Callie. You don’t understand what it means to hear you say that. I’ll get better.”

“I know you will,” I speak softly.

“I’m sorry about last night. I get that you didn’t want to talk about it this morning, but I’ve spent all day racking my brain on how to make you forgive me for leaving
again
. I’ll never do that shit again. I swear I’ll never leave you again, Cal.”

His words almost destroy me. They crawl in through my ears, and plant themselves in my brain for me to keep playing on repeat.

I’ll never leave you again, Cal.

I’ll never do that shit again.

How can I be so certain he won’t do it again? He always leaves when he’s mad. It’s always the same routine, but last night the way he acted took things to a new level.

It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours without a drink yet and there’s no telling what will happen once he starts to withdraw from it.

Baby steps.

I give him a sad smile just as our waitress comes back to take our orders. Derrick orders for the both of us like a gentleman would do, ordering me the chicken parmesan and himself the chicken marsala. I can’t help but giggle at the way our waitress checks him out. With a single glance, Derrick looks a lot older than he is, which attracts attention.

“You still remember what I like to eat here after all this time,” I quirk.

“How can I forget? You’ve eaten it since the day I brought you here. I’ll never forget the first day I saw you in ninth grade. I was speechless. Your beauty took my breath away. From your eyes, to your smile, to your toes…you were perfection. The moment I got to meet you, I realized you were it for me, Callie. I knew there would never be another moment in my life where such beauty would grace me with its presence.”

My grin is a permanent fixture on my face tonight. It’s contagious with love and hope. Everything will get better. I feel it in my bones. All the good things I’ve done will finally give me something in return.

A band performs on the stage within the restaurant. A young female sings out the delicate words to Rascal Flatt’s “Bless the Broken Road”
.
I love this song, and the woman singing it works over the melodies perfect. She makes the song more romantic than it already is.

“Would you like to dance for old times’ sake, baby?” Derrick asks, extending his open palm.

“Why, yes. I would love to. Thank you, sir.”

He lets out a loud laugh while closing his hand over mine delicately. We move toward the dance floor where the few elderly couples dancing make room for us. Derrick’s hands find my waist and my head leans against his chest in an attempt to keep this moment alive forever.

“I love you, Callie. Do you think you’d want to marry me sooner now that I’m getting help? Because I’d love to tell every sorry shmuck in rehab you’re my wife.”

My eyes fly open and I lean my head back to look at his face. He can’t be doing what I think he’s doing.

“Derrick…” I speak hesitantly.

I let out a loud gasp as he removes himself from me and kneels in front of me. One knee is bent, the other on the hardwood floor.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Please. No.
My heart stops. Derrick fiddles around in the front pocket of his dress pants producing a small black velvet box. With my eyes still wide, my hand flies to my chest, trying to signal to my heart it’s okay to beat again, but it doesn’t. It stays perfectly still, hanging on every sound which surrounds us. It’s waiting to hear those words fall from Derrick’s lips. It’s waiting to shatter in a thousand pieces when it has to make the hardest decision of its life. Do I let him get better first before making any sudden changes, or do I say yes to the love of my life?

“Callie. I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. I was sorry for the hell I knew I’d put you through then, and I’m still sorry for it now. But there isn’t a moment that goes by where I can’t see you as my wife. There isn’t a moment where your heart doesn’t beat in the same rhythm as mine. See, we’re so different, yet we’re the same. We’re such opposites, we make each other whole. I promise I’ll take care of you for the rest of our lives. I’ll make sure you never have to second guess us ever again. Will you marry me?”

I work to stifle back a strangled cry. His words are beautiful, and I can tell he means them. So, why is there a lingering doubt in the back of my mind? Why does it seem like my eyes are playing tricks on me? Could this be real? Could Derrick be proposing in front of a restaurant full of strangers? Surely, if I close my eyes and open them again this would all be a twisted dream. So, I close them.

“Callie…”

Derrick’s voice brings me back to reality.
Room full of people. Derrick on his knee. Black box. Ring. Will you marry me? Old and gray together. Children. A life together. Yes. Yes.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, Derrick. I will. I will marry you.”

“Yes!” he shouts to the restaurant full of strangers.

He slips the ring on my finger, calling out to the crowd in excitement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, she said yes! This beautiful woman is going to be my wife!”

He stands up, wrapping me up in his strong arms and twirling us around in the middle of the dance floor. My body slides down his with the click of my heels off the restaurant floor. The crowd goes crazy, whistling and clapping. They chant
“kiss her”
and we can’t leave the crowd disappointed, can we? Our lips lock in a delicate kiss, our foreheads touching. “I love you, Cal.”

“Miss
Matthews?”

I’m snapped out of my memories, back to the present, and the present sucks.

“Miss Matthews, did you hear me?”

I come back to reality, looking toward Dr. Finn who sits firmly planted in her leather recliner. Her small frame is covered in a navy suit, a pad of paper sits in her lap and a pen clicks against her cheek.

“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

"I was saying that the fact you have made a tremendous recovery in our time together is outstanding. I wanted you to know how proud I am of you, and how proud you should be, too."

Slouching back into the soft cushions of the black leather couch, I exhale a deep breath. "Thank you, Dr. Finn. I wouldn't be here without you." She lets out a small hopeful smile, continuing to tell me about my
progress.

"I'm signing these papers today, stating you no longer need to see me or take any form of antidepressants. You still may experience signs of depression. This is normal. I need you to promise me if you have any urges, you’ll call me immediately. Relapses happen all the time, but it does not mean you are sick again. It means we need to go back and review some of the steps."

What she's really saying is
don't
attempt to off yourself again but if you do, call me so your parents can pay me a boatload of money to
fix you.
I force a smile and a small laugh, answering her. That's the only way to stop myself from smacking her in the face.

"I’ll call you if anything happens, but I'm telling you the truth. I feel like myself again. These sessions truly helped me."
Lies.

She rises to her feet and leans down to give me a hug. "You will do great, Callie. I have faith in you." As she pulls back, I stand and gather my belongings, pushing them inside my purse.

"Thank you for everything, Doctor."

I sprint from her office, the brisk end of summer air hitting my face full force. I'm trying to get out of here before she changes her mind and holds me hostage for any longer. Fishing my keys from my bag, I hop into my mom's silver Mercedes and glance in the mirror before starting the car and pulling into traffic.

When Derrick died in a car accident three years ago, I slipped into a slow and painful depression. I opted out of going to a big university and stayed in Pennsylvania with my parents where I didn’t attended community college until just last year. My parents refused to pay for me to go to Boston, like I had originally planned, until I was deemed healthy by some form of doctor. Sierra, my best friend, left me after her freshman year of community college to attend Boston U, where she graduated.

My heart was set on Boston. I swear I counted every day I was under psychological evaluation, each day longer than the next. My freedom was something I knew I would cherish once I obtained it.

1,136 days.

Three years of having doctors poke and prod at my mind like I was an experiment. 27,264 hours. Absolutely insane. 1,136 days wasted and I have my parents to blame for it all. They claimed I couldn't fix myself, and I needed to see a professional. Being twenty years old at the time, I didn't have a choice. Living off my mommy and daddy's money required me to do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted.

The first psychiatrist they sent me to was a pervert, who, instead of trying to help me mentally, wanted to help himself to me physically. I ended up reporting him to the police. So, he was no longer employed.

The second shrink was a little better. I refused to deal with another man so my parents sent me to a female. She was all right for the first couple weeks, prescribing me medications which made me feel like I was on cloud nine…until one of her medications pushed me off the deep end. The medication made me try to commit suicide with a bottle of pills, and an entire bottle of vodka. At least, that's what I told everyone.

So, that's how I ended up sitting in Dr. Amber Finn's office. Mother, wife, daughter, crazy cat lady, and knitting enthusiast. Also, a good therapist. As much as I hated her for extending our sessions when my yearly review came up, she understood me to a point. She knew I wasn't crazy. She knew I was grieving for someone I lost. She knew I would come to terms with it one day, in my own way, at my own pace. And today was that day for me.