Chapter Four
Alexa
“Alexa? Can I come in?” My dad was knocking on my bedroom door for the third time that day. I was still in bed. I hardly got out of bed anymore. I was so focused on feeling sorry for myself that I hadn’t thought about what I was doing to him. The poor thing, I was such a mess and he was so worried about me. I felt terrible, but I didn’t know how to shake this unrelenting pain. I don’t even think anyone who hadn’t experienced it would understand that this kind of emotional pain is real, physical pain.
“Yeah Dad, come on in.”
He pushed open the door and stood there for a minute while his eyes adjusted to the dim light. The sun was still out, but I had pulled the drapes so none of it was allowed to filter in. It had begun to piss me off that it dared to still shine while Emma lay in a cold, dark hole in the ground.
“Alexa,” he said as he came towards the bed. “I’ve been thinking a lot about how to help you. Baby you haven’t gotten out of bed for days and you’ve hardly eaten a bite of anything. I had a thought I wanted to talk to you about and honey I know you’re probably going to say no, but hear me out…”
“Dad, I’m really okay. I wish that you wouldn’t worry.”
“How am I not supposed to worry? You’re wasting away in here.”
“I’m grieving, Daddy. It’ll get better…I think.”
“Not if you stay in this bed all the time. I think we should take you to see a doctor.”
“A doctor? Daddy, I don’t need to see a doctor. I’m not sick.”
“Maybe you just need something to help you until the grief passes.”
“Something like what?”
“Something for the depression or anxiety or whatever is holding you back from being able to live your life.”
He thought I needed to be put on meds for my depression. “No Dad! I’m not crazy. I’m not taking pills. I can cope with this. I just need time and I need to do it in my own way.”
“I just want what’s best for you, baby. You’re nineteen years old and you’ve made a virtual prisoner of yourself in your room. It’s just not healthy and it can’t keep going on.”
I felt the tears coming again. I tried to swallow them, but lately they had a mind of their own. “I just don’t understand, Daddy. Why her? Why did she leave me?” I dissolved into a torrent of tears. He sat down next to me and gently held me like he used to when I was a little girl. I cried until the front of his shirt was soaked. When I was finally able to stop, I felt exhausted. Who knew that crying took so much out of you? I pulled back and said, “I’m sorry. I know I’ve been acting like such a big baby…”
“Don’t say that and don’t apologize. Nineteen year olds are not supposed to have to see their best friends buried. I’m so sorry about that and I wish that I knew why myself. But you and I were just talking about how full of life she was and how happy she was. Emma wouldn’t want this life for you, baby. She wouldn’t have wanted to be the cause of this.”
He was right. Emma would have kicked my ass right out of bed. But Emma wasn’t here…I could get up, but then what? Now that I told Ian I didn’t want to see him again, there was nobody in my life that truly understood. Dad was trying, bless his heart, but he didn’t really get it. Emma was one of a kind and you had to know her the way we did to understand why we loved her so much. I felt like every day that passed without bringing up her name with someone or talking about a memory, made her that much more gone…if that made any sense. I missed her and if I was being honest, I missed Ian too. I’d been laying here thinking about him a lot. I wondered if I had been too hasty…too judgmental. I did have a habit of that. It was one of a handful of things I could thank by mother for.
“Hey Dad?”
“Yeah honey?”
“Do you think people can change?”
“What do you mean, like their personality?”
“Yeah, or their morals and values. If a person makes decisions that are clouded by personal gain rather than right or wrong or possible consequences, do you think that person is destined…or doomed to repeat the same behaviors over and over?”
“No, absolutely not. It’s human nature to make bad decisions or mistakes. It’s part of growing up for most of us. I did a lot of things when I was younger that I regret. But since you can’t change the past, you have to just move forward and make better decisions as you go along. If I met the guy I was twenty years ago, I wouldn’t be able to stand him.”
It was what I wanted to hear, yet it wasn’t. I felt terrible. He was right. We all make bad decisions. I was as guilty of it as anyone. I wouldn’t want my mistakes held against me. I wouldn’t think it was fair if I’d learned from them and grew from them. Ian was a kid then when he made all of those bad choices. He’s a man now. Those mistakes he made were a long time ago and they probably had a lot to do with shaping who he is. What I needed to get through my fat head was that none of them or all of them put together makes him up completely. It probably says more about his character that he was able to overcome those things and put his life on the right path. “Thanks Daddy,” I told him. “I’ll get in the shower and come out and make dinner here in a bit.”
“I’ve already ordered Chinese Food,” he said, “All your favorites.”
My weight was another source of worry for him. I’d lost close to ten pounds since Emma died. I never seem to have an appetite anymore. “Sounds good,” I told him. “I’ll be out in a bit.” He kissed my forehead and told me he loved me before he left me alone. When he left, I thought about Ian again. He helped me with my grief process so much that I’m sure being without him to talk to was what was wrong with me now. I missed him so much that my chest ached doubly bad. I know that Emma loved her brother and she was proud of him. She used to talk about him all the time. Emma wouldn’t have been that proud if he was still doing things that he wasn’t supposed to. She would have still loved him, but I know she wouldn’t have supported him using any kind of drugs or cheating in any way. If he had changed and I was holding all of that against him…I was the one that was wrong.
I wondered again what Emma would have thought of me and Ian together as I finally pulled my butt up out of the bed. I had to go out there and at least try to eat some of that food or Dad was going to worry himself sick. I looked up and said, “So what about it Emma? What did you think of Ian and I being together, however brief it was?”
I stood up and my phone began to make its little alarm sound. It startled me. I didn’t remember setting an alarm. I reached for it and when I saw the face, I remembered. It was letting me know that Ian had a fight in one day. I had put the dates all in at the last fight I went to so that I wouldn’t miss any. It was a pretty big coincidence that the alarm sounded at the moment I was talking out loud to Emma about Ian. “Was that a sign?” I asked her. Then I realized that if she was here she would have made the sign of an “L” across her forehead and said, “Here’s your sign, goofball.”
I chose to take it as a sign. Maybe only because that’s what I wanted it to be. But I decided to go to the fight. I really wanted to see him, so badly that it was bordering on need.
“Thank you, Emma.” I said aloud to the room again.