Hold On Tight (Take My Hand) (21 page)

“Um…” I took a second to answer as I pondered the hidden meaning usually
buried in his questions. It didn’t work. I had no idea where he was going with
this. “No... I suppose not.”

“Then why do you allow
her
to
have the right to speak her feelings and not you?”

Wow. He was right. I do
allow
her
to talk to me the way she does. I rarely retaliate and I
never
say what’s really on my mind. I just roll over and take
whatever crap she throws at me. How had I never realised that until now? More
importantly, how did Jeff – a complete stranger – realise it before
me?

“I’m afraid of disappointing her I suppose.”

“But you already disappoint her.”
Jesus,
don’t hold back.
“And that’s not a healthy relationship to have with
anyone. I’m not a believer in respecting your parents simply because they’re your
parents.
They
chose to have
you
– you owe them nothing. If she
insists on making you aware that you disappoint her so badly, it’s only fair
she’s made aware that she disappoints you too.”

“But… where will that get us? Isn’t that just tit for tat?”

“It may get her to realise her mistakes. She may realise she’s been
misplacing the blame on you because she’s been struggling to cope and you are
her nearest outlet. Or, she may be seriously pissed off with you and think she
underestimated just how much of a shit daughter you are.”

“Jeff that’s-” Dexter tried to interrupt but Jeff cut him off by holding
up his hand.

“Button it, Dex. We’ll get to you in a minute.”

“But what it will
definitely
get
you,” Jeff continued, “is equal footing. No relationship should have a superior
member. Both parties deserve to know where they stand. You need closure, Em.
The nightmares are still haunting you because the events of that day are still
wide open. You’re spending your life
waiting
for your mam to forgive you, to tell you it wasn’t your fault. Which it
wasn’t by the way. You need to know if that’s ever going to happen and then you
need to accept the answer either way.

“You might not hear what you want to. But once you know how she feels
and you’ve accepted that it’s never going to change, you can stop feeling
guilty. You’ve done all you can at that point. Life is too short to waste
waiting for people’s approval. Even if those people are someone as important as
your parents. You’re stuck, Em. You can’t move on because you don’t know if
your mam will ever let you. Find out. Tell her how you feel and get an answer
from her. Accept it… and move on.”

“Wow,” I breathed, feeling utterly overwhelmed.

“You don’t mention your dad much. Do you think he blames you too?”

“No,” I replied without hesitation. “I think he just goes along with
whatever Mum says for a quiet life.”

“In that case, maybe you’d find it easier approaching him first.”

“Maybe,” I agreed, partly to shut him up and partly because, much to my
surprise, I was
actually
considering
the idea. How was this man managing to change the way I’ve thought and dealt
with things my entire life? Are you thinking what I’m thinking? Yep… he has
magical powers.

“Well, that’s enough food for thought for you today. We’ll revisit this
next time.” Thank GOD. “Okay, Dex… you’re up.”

~Dexter~

“
I’m
proud of you,” I mouthed to Emily while
Jeff shuffled some files about on his desk. She smiled nervously, her pale
cheeks pinking slightly.

“Ah
here we go,” Jeff muttered to himself, pulling out a file from the middle of
the pile. “Okay, so we might as well dive straight into the heavy shit.”

“Didn’t
expect anything less,” I retorted with a hint of a smile.

“So,
you first used again the day of your mam’s funeral.” I heard Emily inhale
sharply. We both knew she was about to hear some difficult things but we also
knew she
needed
to hear them. “It
can’t have been an impulsive thing. I’m guessing your average mourner doesn’t
carry round bags of coke, so… you must’ve planned it. You must’ve purposely
gone out of your way to get it. Right?”

“Right,”
I nodded after a brief pause to assess Emily’s tense posture.

“So
when did you plan it? At what point did you first start thinking about using
again?”

Straightening
back in my chair to enable my lungs to drag in more air, I took hold of Emily’s
hand again. I wanted… no I
needed
to
feel her with me.

“It’s
always there. You know that – I’ve told you before. But the urge to go through
with it isn’t usually as strong as the love I feel for those closest to me
– the ones I know will get hurt if I go through with it. But… the night
Emily followed me, saw me with my mom and discovered I’d been lying to her… I
was convinced I’d lose her. Therefore, if I didn’t have her… technically I
couldn’t hurt her. So, the urge to score began outweighing the need to shelter
her from that side of me.

“I
didn’t score that night. I tried to numb myself with alcohol instead. But of
course, once I’d started thinking about it seriously I couldn’t stop. Then,
when my mom died… the craving had already taken me. I was weak. I gave in.”

“You
said, when you thought you’d lost Emily, you couldn’t hurt her. But what about
Sarah? You still had her.”

Okay
so before you read this, I know damn well I’m about to sound like an
insensitive, undeserving, selfish dickweed. But hey, we’re being honest,
remember?

“But
I knew I’d never lose her. Whatever shit I’ve put her through, she never gives
up on me. She’d seen me at my worst and stuck by me. I knew she’d do it again.
So… I refused to let myself think about the impact it would have on her. I knew
she’d be there at the other side and I told myself that was all that mattered.”

“Well
what are you going to do differently, Dex? You
will
hit hard times again… so what are you going to do when you
start thinking a line is the answer.”

“I…um…”
Shit. He’d got me on that one. “If I knew the answer to that I wouldn’t
be
here.”

“Just
imagine it. Imagine right now that your dad hurts someone you love again, or
Sarah dies in a tragic accident…Maybe you’re driving the car. You crash. Sarah
dies. You feel guilty about that. Wha-”

“Jesus,
Jeff.” I know he’s unconventional but surely even
he
has a line he won’t cross. “Nothing too serious then huh?”

“Could
happen,” he said casually, shrugging his shoulders. “So tell me, if it
did
… what do you wish you could do
instead of score?”

I
forced out a heavy breath, unintentionally blowing a raspberry because my lips
were pressed into such a tight line. I knew exactly what I’d
like
to be able to do, but I also knew
how hard it would be.

“I’d
like to talk to Emily. I’d like to be honest with her – tell her what I’m
thinking… that I’m struggling.”

“I
want that too,” Emily interjected, squeezing my hand.

“But,
I’ll always be too afraid of pushing her away. If I were to tell her I’d been
thinking about scoring, she’d feel let down. Worried. Scared. She wouldn’t
trust that I’m not gonna go out and do it.” I turned to Emily, fixing my eyes
on hers. “And I couldn’t blame you for that. But that kind of constant fear of
being let down isn’t any way to live. There’s only so many times you’ll put up
with it before you come to your senses.”

“You
don’t
know
how she’d react, Dex,”
Jeff interrupted. He does that shit a lot. “I’m going to refer back to what I
discussed with Emily. You’re stuck too. You can’t move on because you’re too
busy trying to second guess Em’s reaction to everything. Again, you need to ask
her what she needs from you. Ask her if she’s going anywhere. Then, accept it.
Move on. Stop waiting for it to fuck up.”

I
nodded slowly, never taking my eyes off the paperweight shaped like a duck (no
shit) on Jeff’s desk. I’m telling you he’s got some kind of paperweight fetish
going on. There’s literally too many to count dotted around his office.

But
he was right. I
am
always waiting for
the fuck up.

“But
the fuck ups always come. Always.”

“Sure
they do. That’s life. So what, you think you’re too special to tackle them head
on like the rest of us?”

“No!
Of course not.”

“Look
at Em,” Jeff said. “Go on, look at her,” he repeated when I looked at him with
a puzzled expression. I did as I was told and shifted slightly in my seat,
facing Emily. She was chewing on her bottom lip with her head bowed slightly
down as she gazed anxiously up at me. “Say Emily makes a mistake. She’s out
driving with her brother, she crashes the car…”

My
head jerked towards Jeff and I couldn’t help the amused smile that crawled
across my lips against my will.

“You
know you’re kinda twisted right?”

“Says
the junkie who shot his mother?” Jeff threw back without a second’s pause. Did
you gasp like Emily just did? Yeah, Jeff’s ruthless candidness gets some
getting used to, but honestly, that’s why he’s so great. I’ve never once felt
patronized or judged and he’s never made me feel like a lab rat under the
microscope. Doctors, therapists… they all have certain stares.

There’s
the pity stare. That’s mainly reserved for the women. It’s the one where they cock
their head to the side and nod slower than a freakin’ turtle all the way
through the conversation.

Then
there’s the clinical stare. Usually used by doctors with eyeglasses. It’s where
they keep one eye on you at all times and it’s always that little bit narrowed
– suspicious… like it’s waiting for you to trip up.

Finally,
there’s the assessing stare. That’s the one where the eyes scan you up and down
over an over like you’re some brand new and fascinating species. Every so often
the stare will break to glance over the notes being continually jotted down on
the open notepad in front of them. I hate this stare the most. It makes you
feel like a scientific experiment.

Jeff?
He doesn’t have a stare. He looks at me like he’s just come into The Blue
Apple, the pub I worked at back in London before I fucked everything up, for a
pint of beer. And
that,
I suspect, is
how he gets me to talk to him. My instincts trust him whether I want them to or
not. That’s also the reason I didn’t shove my fist so far down his throat he’d
be shitting my fingernails for a week after his last comment.

“Touché,”
I replied with an exaggerated arm roll. My lack of offence seemed to appease
Emily’s nerves and her teeth relieved some of the pressure on her bottom lip,
allowing the color to filter back in.

“So
where were we? Right…Em, brother, car crash…”

“Yeah
I get it. Chris dies, Em feels guilty… Now what?”

“Would
you want her to talk to you, or shut you out and try deal with it alone?”

“You
know the answer to that. Stop being ridiculous.”

“But
what if she can’t deal with it? The guilt. What if she just wants to run away
and hide? What if she
does
run? What
if she tries to push you away?”

For
fuck’s sake where the hell was this thing heading?

“What’s
your point, Jeff?” I rolled my eyes, exasperated.

“Answer
me.”

“I
wouldn’t let her push me away. If she ran, I’d find her. Besides, she’s got no
reason to feel guilty. It was an accident. She wouldn’t have gotten in that car
intending
to crash it now would she?”
Jesus Christ, I was so involved I was talking about it like it had actually
happened. Jeff may well get me over this addiction, but I have a feeling he’ll
be sending me straight to the nut ward.

“Like
you wouldn’t have picked up that gun
intending
to shoot your mam you mean?”

Aaaaand
bingo.
That
is where he was heading.
He’s a sneaky bastard.

“You’re
good, Jeff,” I muttered – laughing inappropriately. “You’re fucking
good.”

My
eyes flipped to the clock above Jeff’s head and I noticed we were almost out of
time. Thank holy mother of fuck for that. This session had been… intense.

“Damn
right I am,” Jeff winked. “That’s how I can charge so much.”

I
could tell by how tight Emily’s lips were pursed together as she shook her head
that she was trying to suppress a giggle. Whereas me? I couldn’t help flinching
at the knowledge of where the payment for his fees had come from.

“Right
guys, I’m happy to leave it there for today if you are?”

“Damn
straight,” I replied instantly.

“Um,
yeah,” Emily agreed.

“I
think you’ll agree we’ve covered a lot today. But to be honest, we’ve barely
scratched the surface. But we’ve got plenty more of these sessions to look
forward to,” Jeff said with a mischievous wink. “But in the meantime think
about what we’ve discussed today. Go over it in your heads. Fill in the holes.
Think of things you wished you’d said, either to me or each other. This
situation you’ve found yourselves in? It’s shit, but you need to accept it…”

“And
move on,” I finished for him.

“Bloody
hell, Dex… carry on like that and you’ll make me think you’ve actually been
listening to me.” I rolled my eyes and laughed faintly. “Any questions?”

“How’s
Freya? When is she coming back?”

“You
know I’m not supposed to discuss Freya with you,” he answered in a low,
serious, un-Jeff-like tone.

“But
you’re gonna,” I stated, knowing he would. In case you haven’t noticed, Jeff
isn’t exactly the following protocol kind of guy.

“Are
you saying I’m unprofessional?” he teased, feigning an offended scowl. “Because
I refute such an allegation.”

“Soooo,
Freya?” Shaking his head and smiling, he sucked in a breath to answer.

“She’s
not too great,” Jeff admitted, his voice turning fifty tones of deadly fucking
serious. “And she won’t be coming back here.”

“Why
the fuck not? The girl needs help,” I snapped. Granted, I don’t know the girl
too well but she’s literally got
no one
to
help her fight this. What chance has she got of making it alone?

“Her
mam’s withdrawn her fees.” Why would she do that? She
knows
what her stepdad does to her. “And unfortunately we don’t
accept Medicaid here.” No shit. I’m pretty sure they only accept gold. “But we
won’t just turf her out. We’ll put her in contact with a center that will
continue her treatment program.”

“You
think she’ll go?” Because I don’t.

“I
dunno. I hope so,” he breathed with a genuine look of concern on his face.
“Anyway, time was up twenty minutes ago. Now fuck off out my office.”

“I’ll
miss you too, Jeff.” I blew him a kiss, causing him to shake his head and flip
me the bird. Taking my hand once again, Emily bit her lip to stop her obvious
smile spreading too wide and followed me out into the reception area.

“Jesus
motherfucking Christ,” Emily said the second we were alone. I swear I nearly
keeled over from shock.

“Excuse
me?” I asked in disbelief before bursting into a laugh. I can’t possibly have
heard such obscenities leave Emily’s sweet mouth more than three times in all
the time I’ve known her.

“That
was so intense. Overwhelming. Absolutely bleeding terrifying.”

“You
did great,” I assured her.

“So
did you.”

 
“I think we can do this, doll. I think
we’re gonna be okay. I think
I’m
gonna
be okay.” A smile so proud and wide it must’ve hurt illuminated her pale face
and I tucked my hands behind her back and pulled her into me.

“I’m
so proud of you, you know. I know this isn’t over, but nevertheless I feel very
positive. Although Jeff?” I was smiling already as I waited for her thoughts on
him. “You sure he’s really qualified? At one point I wanted to whip out my
phone and Google escaped mental patients in the local area.”

“He’s
all kinds of batshit crazy,” I agreed. “But… he’s good for me. I’ve never
opened up before like I have to him. I’ve always felt like some kind of
project. The questions are practically scripted, they write everything down,
they never
ever
give their opinion…
but Jeff? Well… he’s Jeff.”