30. Chapter Thirty
Chapter thirty
Carter
I shove my hands into my pockets because it’s colder in the group room than it usually is. Glenn agreed to start today, wanting to share how his weekend went.
I listen intently, staring at the ground as I usually do. It’s what most of us do, staring at the ground, the walls, the ceiling as we listen.
Maybe it’s a confidence thing.
Maybe it’s a respect thing, not wanting to make the person speaking feel uncomfortable.
Maybe it’s both. Or maybe it’s something else entirely.
Glenn is here because he was sexually abused by his father until he was seventeen. There isn’t a time when he remembers not being touched by his father. It’s fucked up. Really fucked up. We’ve all been through some shit, but something like that, it hits in a different way.
Glenn is twenty-three now, and he’s working really hard on getting his life on track.
He’s especially confused about his sexuality, which he is very open about.
He’s been coming here for over a year. He never misses.
He speaks when he can. He’s a good guy, and I hope he gets what he needs from this place.
“So, the new therapist, Leigha, suggested I visit my mother. I did that over the weekend, and, uh… I’m not really sure how I feel about it. I don’t blame her for what happened; I never have. My father was manipulative, and I don’t think she knew, but I can’t help but feel some way toward her.”
I nod in agreement, understanding that on my own level. My parents should be there for me during this time, but they aren’t. Though, now that’s my choice. After they started pushing me to get over Ryan’s death, I cut ties. I couldn’t handle it.
“Mothers are supposed to protect, same as fathers. They both failed you in some way, even if one of them wasn’t intentional,” Hannah adds.
“Yeah, maybe that’s it,” Glenn says agreeably.
He goes on to talk about how he spoke with his mom but couldn’t stay long because seeing her made him think of his father. I’m listening, but I can’t help but wonder if this is something Nash would want to do. Would he want to come to this? Would it help? Do I want him here? In this safe space?
“Thank you for sharing, Glenn. Does anyone else have something they want to share?” Tim asks.
“I do,” I say, lifting my hand. “It’ll be quick.”
“You know there’s no time limit, Carter. Go ahead.”
“I’m sort of seeing someone,” I say confidently.
I look around as I say it, getting a few smiles and nods of approval.
“We haven’t put a label on it or anything, but he’s been supporting me through Ryan’s case.
I’ve come to trust him. I just wanted to share this in hopes it’ll give other people hope.
I didn’t think I would ever get to this point with someone, and though it isn’t much yet, it’s something. ”
“Do you have news on Ryan’s case?” Kane asks, giving me an I-told-you-so look that I ignore.
“Not really, no. They’re still trying to find the assault victim. If they do, hopefully she will have information on the attacker.” I look around, smiling softly. “But, uh… that’s all I really wanted to share.”
“Thank you for that, Carter,” Tim says. “It’s good to hear good things. Who wants to go next?”
People take their turns talking about whatever they need to get off their chest. Others give their input. Some stay quiet the entire time because they just need to listen or aren’t ready to share. When group is over, everyone grabs their things and heads out into the cold night, as we usually do.
“Can I walk you?” Kane asks.
“Don’t you always?” I say.
“Always want to ask. Just in case… you know.”
“In case what?”
“Well, if you have a boyfriend now, I don’t want him jealous.”
I scoff, giving him a playful shove. “He’s not my boyfriend. And I would never be with someone who didn’t like me being with friends.”
He puts his hand on his chest. “You’re so sweet, Carter.”
I shove him again, this time harder. “Shut up.”
“You look happy,” he says after we’ve been walking a moment.
I shrug. “I feel better than I have in a long time. Like, finally there is a light at the end of the tunnel. It’s not close, but it’s there. I can see it.”
“If you two get serious, I want to meet him.”
“Sure thing, but I am not even close to thinking about that yet.”
I get to the subway, we part ways, and I hop on so I can head home.
I smile to myself the whole way. All I can think about is Nash and how badly I want to see him.
I think about last night and how heated things got.
Part of me wanted to keep going—to invite him into my bedroom—but I still don’t think I’m ready for that.
I have things that I need to make peace with first; things I need to understand about myself and what I’m going through; things I need to handle before I decide to give that part of myself to someone again.
I stare at the boxes in the corner, my stomach turning sour.
Ryan’s boxes have been in this corner, mostly untouched, since I moved in.
I went through one a few weeks ago and took that necklace that I’ve kept on my end table, as a sort of desensitization.
Something that belonged to Ryan is there.
I see it. I know it. I’m still okay. I can do this.
Putting all of this behind me, it’s what I need to do to move on with my life.
Even if his case doesn’t get solved, I still get to live. But I can’t live in fear forever—I don’t want to. I can’t hold on to a ghost. I have to move forward and stop focusing on the past. It’s unfair to myself, and Ryan wouldn’t want that for me.
It has nothing to do with Nash specifically.
This is for me. Nash is just the one who made me see that.
I’m doing it for myself, I’m doing it for me, because I know that I can.
Because I deserve to be happy and have a good life—a life with a husband and kids.
Lots of kids. As many as I can handle. I’ve always had dreams and ideas of what I want for my life.
I’m still here to reach them, so I need to do that.
Nash has quickly become the person I turn to, the person I trust, the person I know will be there no matter what, and I don’t know where he will be in my life in one, two, five, or ten years, but he’s taught me something that will last a lifetime.
Which is why I pull my phone from my pocket and call him.
“Hi,” he answers in that raspy voice that I like so much. I can’t help but smile.
“Hey.”
“How was your day? Group?” he asks.
“It was good. But, uh… I decided that I need to go through Ryan’s things, and it’s just… not so easy.” I stare at the boxes, shifting on my feet. This is going to hurt. I’m bracing for it. Because I can’t turn away again. This needs to get done.
“I remember when I had to go through everything in the house after my parents’ died.”
“The whole house?”
“There was no one else to do it. I was the oldest. I didn’t want Jericho and Hollis in there after what we saw. I didn’t go through everything, just our rooms mostly.”
“You shouldn’t have had to do that either.”
“I needed to prove to myself that I could be strong, that I could do whatever I needed to move forward. For them, mostly.”
“You knew that at sixteen?”
He huffs a humored sound. “What can I say? I was smart even then.”
I chuckle as I take a step closer to the boxes, my hands starting to sweat.
“I know I’m strong. I know I can do this. I just know it’s going to hurt and I’m so tired of hurting.”
There’s a long pause and knowing Nash, I know he’s about to say something important.
“Carter, when you open those boxes, think of the good memories only. Don’t think about Ryan being gone. Don’t think about what you’re missing out on. Think about the good things that come with every item in those boxes. Go in with a positive mindset. See if that helps.”
A rush of air leaves me, and my shoulders deflate, some of the tension leaving my body.
“You really are a smart man,” I say, my voice cracking because I’m on the verge of tears.
How does he always know the right thing to say? Even when it comes to this.
“Are you sure you’re real?” I whisper.
“Last I checked. But I’ll look for a pulse if it’ll make you feel better.”
“Pretty sure I felt that racing last night.”
“Pretty sure you did.”
I smile to myself, still staring at the boxes and holding the phone to my ear. None of this makes sense. It’s all so confusing. But what can I do about it other than move on? I just need to move forward and see what life has in store for me. See if I can reach my goals and be happy.
“Okay,” I say. “I think I’m ready to do this.”
“Call me if you need me.”
I almost say, “I always need you.” It’s on the tip of my tongue but it’s too soon for those kinds of proclamations. So I just thank him and get off the phone.
Unstacking the first box is easy. Sitting on the floor in front of it is also easy. But reaching for it to open… that takes me a minute. A few rounds of box breathing. But eventually, I reach for the flaps and tug them open.
The faintest hint of Ryan’s scent hits my nose, this sweet, almost fruity scent that I could never figure out where it came from.
This box is full of clothes. I pull them out, some with memories and some without.
It hurts at first, more than I thought it would.
My chest aches. My eyes burn. But I’m doing it. I’m moving forward.
I make two piles with the clothes. What I’m keeping and what I’m donating. I try to keep the keep pile small. I can’t hold on to everything, just the special things. Each item that I pull out, I hold it to my chest, breathe, and decide if I need to keep it or donate it.
I get through all the boxes of clothes, and then move on to the other stuff. Books, mostly. A few of his other things. I keep his copy of Tuck Everlasting. The rest can be donated.
I don’t need to hold on to Ryan’s things to hold on to Ryan—to remember him. I can do that all on my own. These items could help someone in need, someone who has nothing. Ryan would want to help—it’s always what he wanted.
My phone rings from on the bed, and I lean over to grab it. It’s an unknown number, but something tells me to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Carter?”
“It is. Who’s this?”
“It’s Heather. I adopted Teddy.”
I let out a shuddering breath. “Hi,” I say. “How is she?”
“She’s doing so good. Can I video call you?”
“Yes, please.”
The ring comes in, and I click the button to switch it over. Her smiling face fills the camera.
“I knew I could send pictures but I thought this would be better. Also, I’m so sorry if it’s late.”
“Oh, you’re fine,” I say, casually wiping my eyes like I’m not crying.
But I am.
Because how is this possible? How is this not a sign?
How am I doing one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do and then this woman calls?
The one who has a son named Ryan. The one who adopted Teddy.
This has to be a good sign, and I’d be stupid to ignore them.
Clearly something in this universe is trying to tell me I’m heading in the right direction.
“Okay, here we go,” she whispers, pulling the phone back to flip the camera.
It takes a moment for it to focus. The room is dark, just a night light on the wall giving enough light to see.
She moves forward and shifts the camera so it’s facing a twin-sized bed with railings on either side.
It’s closer to the floor than usual beds, with a higher headboard and footboard.
In the bed, all tucked in, is Ryan, sleeping peacefully under his Dalmatian print blanket.
And tucked right beside him, sleeping soundly, is Teddy.
It hits me so hard I can’t breathe. I cover my mouth and shift the phone so it’s looking at the ceiling and she can’t see me losing it silently.
She’s lying in bed with Ryan, sleeping with him. Protecting him. She’s finding her place, she’s accepting love. She’s happy.
“Are you there?” she asks.
“Yes, sorry,” I say, taking a deep breath and wiping my eyes before bringing the camera back to my face.
She frowns. “Are you okay, honey?” she asks sympathetically.
“Yes and no,” I say with a laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m just dealing with my own stuff right now and this is… it’s beautiful. I’m so happy that you have Teddy. I’m so happy she’s doing well. I’m just… so happy.”
She gives me a sad smile. “Teddy fits right in here. Her and Ryan are two peas in a pod.”
“I love that,” I say past a sob. “It makes me so happy.”
“If you’d like to come visit, you can, honey.”
“Thank you,” I say, and take a deep breath. I wipe my eyes again. “Seriously, thank you. I promise I’m not always such a mess, I’m just dealing with a lot.”
“I understand,” she says. “Trust me, I understand. I always have my hands full over here. But I’m sure Teddy would love to see you. Maybe you can come by this weekend.”
“I would love that more than I can explain.” I wipe my eyes again, sniffling.
“Let me check my schedule, and I’ll text you some times that will work for us. You let me know what works for you.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry, I know that’s all I keep saying.”
“It’s okay,” she says with a small laugh. “I’m so happy that I could bring you some peace with this. I know you were worried about her, that you care about her.”
“You have brought me more peace than you know.”
She smiles. “I’ll let you go. I’ll text you soon. Good night.”
“Good night,” I say, and end the call.
I stare at all the stuff in front of me and something changes. Something in me just… lets go. Detaches. Floats away. I feel lighter. Ready. Eager.
Then I start laughing. Small at first, until it turns hysterical. Then I’m crying again.
I spend the next five minutes crying. I let it all out because it does no good inside.
And when I have myself together, when I’ve purged all the bad stuff, I finish going through Ryan’s things.
I put away everything I’m keeping and pack the other stuff back in boxes that I leave by the door.
I look up the number for the donation center that makes pickups and set a reminder to call them in the morning.
I can do this. I can really do this.