Marco
“Thank you for picking me up. Since I didn’t drive here, I would have had to take a cab home, and I have no money on me.” I give my dad a hug and we walk out of Sunny Creek rehabilitation center, a place I don’t plan to ever need to return to.
“Of course, I’m here. You think I would let you get out of this place and not be here?”
I throw the luggage, filled with some clothes and stuff I have accumulated during my three months here, into the back of my car.
“Thanks for letting me take your car, your mom needed to use the rental.”
“Seriously? You’re thanking me for letting you use my car? I owe you a lot more than the use of my vehicle.”
We get in and my dad starts driving to my place. “I made sure all your bills were kept up with like we discussed, and someone came in once a month and cleaned. How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling damn good. I’m ready to get my life back but I’m not going to fuck this up. I have my sponsor on speed dial and I have the locations of the narcotic anonymous meetings in my area.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He shoots me a smile.
“I know we talked about all this when you guys visited but I need to say it again. I am so sorry for what I did and said.”
“I appreciate it, Marco. You are our son and we will always be here for you. It killed me having to walk away. Every day I prayed you were alive and would stay alive long enough to get help. Now let’s put all this behind us.”
“Where’s Mom?” I ask. I’m surprised she isn’t here, and if I’m honest a little disappointed.
“She’s meeting us for dinner. She wanted to be here, but since you insisted on us not telling anybody about you being in rehab, she couldn’t think of an excuse to be in California and not…umm…” My dad trails off unsure of how to finish what he was saying.
“Dad, you know one of the things we talked about in rehab was not coddling me. What’s going on? Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
“Bella’s mom threw Bella a baby shower today. When Liz invited everyone, she didn’t know we were already coming here for you, and since Hayley couldn’t say anything, she just acted like we were coming here for the shower.”
Bella’s baby shower. As much time as I have thought about Bella and our baby the last few months, it still hits me hard hearing her name spoken out loud.
“Have you told mom what I told you?”
My dad shakes his head. “You said you thought she might be. You were high and heading to rehab. I felt it was best to wait until you were sober and ready to deal with this head on. Are you sure you might be the dad?”
“Do I remember having sex with her? No.” I hang my head in shame. My counselor and I spoke at great lengths about Bella, the baby, and how she more than likely isn’t going to forgive me right away. We talked about being ready to co-parent without being together, and Dr. Wells recommended we consider going to counseling together.
But the first step is finding out from Bella if this baby is mine.
“I have a letter I wasn’t supposed to see and it states I’m the dad.”
“Just remember you are only ninety days sober, and while this baby should be a priority, you also need to put yourself first so you stay sober for the baby.”
We arrive at my condo and dad gives me space to unpack my stuff. I look around and can’t believe this is my home. I was so high and fucked up, I never even bothered to do anything with the place. It’s a three-bedroom condo on the beach, on the first floor. You can literally walk outside and step foot in the sand, but other than the necessities like a bed and dresser, everything in this place is empty. The walls are white and bare and there’s no pictures out. It’s the opposite of the home I grew up in with Hayley and Caleb.
I throw my luggage onto the bed and open it up to put my clothes away. As I pick up the pile, the stack of envelopes falls out onto the floor. Picking them up, I put them back in a neat pile and place them into my drawer. Eighty letters. One for every day I was in rehab minus the ten days I was detoxing and wasn’t allowed to have anything dangerous near me such as a writing utensil.
I thought about mailing them so many times but chickened out every time. Something told me I needed to say all the words in person. But I never got rid of a single letter. My counselor said maybe it was cleansing for me to let it all out on paper.
After changing into clean clothes, my dad and I head out to meet mom for dinner.
“Oh, my baby!” My mom spots me outside the restaurant and runs at me with open arms. “You look so good!” Tears fall down her cheeks and I hate that there was a time I didn’t look good. I hate what I put my parents through. But I can’t look back. All I can do is move forward and make things right the best I can.
We hug for a few more minutes, until the hostess lets us know our table is ready. “So, what are your plans?” my dad asks.
“Honey, just let him be. He just got out.”
“And he needs to have a plan.”
“Dad’s right. My plan is to work on making amends with the people I wronged. I want to go visit Logan in the hospital. I found out he was moved to Sharp Hospital here in San Diego into a long-term facility.”
“And what about you?” my mom asks.
“My back is still sore but it’s getting better.” I put my head down still feeling shame. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come to you guys. I should have told you the pain I felt. I shouldn’t have turned to drugs.”
“Hey, you did come to us.”
“Yeah, too late.”
“No, too late would be us burying you. It wasn’t too late. You are here and you are well,” my mom says.
“I want to get back to fighting. I know I have a long road ahead of me, but I want to start working out and training again.” But even as I say the words, I feel like they are no longer true. But instead what I’m supposed to say, what people are expecting me to say, what I should be saying. I’m just not sure if I truly mean them anymore.
“And you’re sure you don’t want to move back home?” my dad asks.
“I have to be here.” I hate that I am keeping this secret from my mom but what if the letter wasn’t true? What if Bella’s baby isn’t mine. I need to talk to Bella first before I start running my mouth to everyone in sight.
We enjoy the rest of our meal then head back to my place. Mom and dad insist on spending the night in the guest room, and I welcome the company. I excuse myself to call my sponsor, a man named Jay who has been a recovering addict for thirty years. After going over my plan and when I’ll be attending my first meeting, I go to bed, grateful to finally be sleeping in my own bed, in my own home.
I wake up to the smell of bacon. Mom must have gone to the store because there’s no way anything from that fridge was still good.
“Morning,” I say, giving my mom a kiss on her cheek. Her phone dings and she looks at it on the counter.
“Oh no!” My mom shouts looking at her phone. “Bella had the baby. She was brought in via ambulance last night and they had to do an emergency caesarean.”
My heart races at the thought of something happening to Bella and our baby.
“Is she ok? Is the baby ok?” I blurt out. Please let them both be ok. I shoot up a silent prayer to the man upstairs.
“She’s ok. They both are.”
“We should head over there,” my dad tells her, getting up from the couch. My mom flicks the stove off and covers the bacon with foil.
“If you don’t want to go, we will completely understand. I know something happened with you and Bella but I’m sure she would want you there.”
If she knew the way I treated Bella the last time I saw her, she would think otherwise. It’s not that I don’t want to visit her, to see our baby and apologize to her for everything I did. Beg for forgiveness. But the day after she has given birth isn’t the time or place to do that.
“No, that’s ok. You guys go. I need to visit Logan.”
“Ok, sweetie.” She gives me a quick kiss on my cheek then grabs her purse.
My dad murmurs, “I’ll let you know how she is.”