Then There Was You (9 page)

My voice wavered, but I continued, “But, I didn’t make her proud. On the way home that night my mom barely spoke to me. I asked her if she liked my speech. She gripped the steering wheel tightly and started crying. Instead of telling me how proud she was, she asked me why I lied to everyone. I’ll never forget the tone of her voice. ‘You’ve never been to Italy, Salem,’ she said angrily. I didn’t understand. I didn’t lie. I still remember that day with my father like it was yesterday. It was one of the last memories I had of me and my dad before he died. She insisted it was just a dream, but I knew it wasn’t.” I looked around the room at the boys’ faces staring at me. As if I were trying to convince them all, I vowed, “I
know
it wasn’t just a dream.”

Burying my face in my hands, I tried to rein in my emotions. I knew my memory was real; I just never could convince anyone else of that fact. “Sorry, boys,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to get so carried away.”

I didn’t think I’d tear up like I did. I hadn’t talked about my father’s death in so long that I was almost numb to it—until now. My mother had ripped my recollection of one of the happiest days I’d spent with my father away from me as if I’d stolen a cookie before dinner. I had mourned over the fuzzy memory that would never quite come into focus. My heart ached, not only from the loss of my dad, but from the hole in my heart of a robbed memory.

Chris rose to his feet and walked toward me. Placing his hand on my shoulder, he didn’t say a word. Instead, he patiently allowed me the opportunity to gain my composure. Other boys followed suit, and before I knew it, five sets of sympathetic hands were resting on my shoulders.

Chris spoke with conviction. “Thank you for sharing that with us, Mrs. H. I’m sorry about your dad.”

A few of the boys echoed him with ‘Thanks,’ and ‘Sorry,’ as they all returned to their seats.

I knew I had to lock my feelings away and move forward. I was worried when my emotions got the best of me that it would weaken the rapport I’d built with them or that they’d view me as weak. I continued the session, extremely vigilant in maintaining my professionalism for the rest of it. However, I found that the boys spoke more freely than ever before, giving me a whole new perspective on group dynamics.

Staring at me from across the circle, I sensed something in Chris. Empathy? Understanding? Compassion? Our eyes locked. With a single nod of his head and a flicker of a smile, he spoke volumes to me without speaking a word.

A couple of weeks later, Chris sauntered through the door for his usual appointment. “Mrs. Honeycutt, I’m here for my session,” he announced.

Sometimes it felt weird being called Mrs. Honeycutt. I’d only been married about nine months. A positive pregnancy test on that sweltering morning in the blistering heat of the summer resulted in a quick visit to the magistrate’s office for a not-so-fairytale wedding. I still wasn’t quite used to the new last name, much less someone just a few short years younger than me calling me
Mrs
. It made me feel old, like a staunch librarian with a tight gray bun on top of my head.

I’ll tell you what else made me feel old… no sleep. My legs felt like lead most days, and my brain worked in slow motion. I was only twenty-four, but Alexis made me feel like I was on my death bed.

I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes. Another sleepless night had rendered me weepy. Using my fingers, I tried to eliminate the mascara lines that I felt sure were running down my cheeks. I tried really hard to keep my emotions in check, but some days were harder than others.

I smiled through my tears. “Hey, Chris.”

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, concerned as he slumped down onto the sofa.

“I’m fine. Just tired as usual.” I didn’t go into detail about my desire to drive my car off the bridge most days while the screaming baby in the backseat wracked my nerves.

“Okay, just wanted to be sure. I’m sorry you’re so tired.”

“Thanks. Having a baby is a lot harder than I ever expected… but enough about me. Sit down. Let’s chat for a while. How are you doing?” I thoughtlessly straightened a few items on my desk, grabbing a notebook and a pen from the top drawer, and sinking into my usual chair.

Chris had plopped down on the sofa across from me, and his jovial spirit waned. “Eh, pretty much everything sucks right now. I still haven’t heard from Kaitlyn.”

I shook my head. “I’m so sorry. I know that must be tough… never knowing.”

Looking down at the floor, he mumbled, “Yeah, it sucks. Big time. I wish she’d just write me back so I knew what to do… if I should just give up on her.”

I understood hopelessness more than I was willing to admit anyone, but I couldn’t help the trite remark. Despite my own misery, I wanted to give these kids some hope. “You should never give up. Life’s circumstances may keep you apart right now, but never give up.”

“I won’t. It’s just hard sometimes.”

“I know it is. Just hang in there,” I encouraged him as I stood up and walked back toward my desk. “Now, I’ve been doing some thinking… I feel like you need some sort of outlet. With all the letters you’ve been writing without response, I thought you might need something to help you process all your thoughts.”

I pulled a leather bound journal with gilt-edged paper out of my desk drawer. “I want to give this to you, to take back with you to your bunk. I want you write in it every day. You can write anything, from what you ate each day to your innermost thoughts. I want you to bring it back with you to each session. The pages you want me to read, leave them be. The pages you don’t want me to read, fold in half. She’s all yours,” I said with a smile as I handed him the journal. I’d already decided that if this journaling idea worked with Chris, I was going to try it with the other guys too.

“Wow, really?” Chris looked at me excitedly as if I’d handed him a million dollars. “Thank you, Mrs. Honeycutt,” he said, looking down and fanning the pages as if he were shuffling a deck of cards. As the last page left his thumb, he snapped his eyes up, fixing his gaze on me. “This really means a lot to me.”

Little did he know just how much his weekly sessions meant to
me
. It was kids like him that got me up every day and kept me moving forward. It would have been so easy to give up—so easy to stay in bed and forget the world. Just knowing the impact I was having on their lives kept me grounded. Chris and the rest of the boys constantly pulled me back into reality.

I appreciated what this moment signified. The cold indifferent guy who’d walked into my office a mere few weeks ago was finally breaking down those barriers. I’d finally broken through that thick wall and made some progress with him.

“I’ll write in it tonight, I promise.” He gave me that sweet, quirky smile that I’d grown to love in my own right.

During the next session I was eager to see if Chris had kept his promise.

“Did you bring your journal with you today, Chris?”

“Yes ma’am,” Chris said, smiling as he plopped down on the sofa in front of me.

“Great, can I take a look?”

“Definitely.”

I opened the journal to the first page.

“Well, that was… colorful…” I said.

“It’s true, Mrs. Honeycutt. Besides you, everything about this place fu… um… sucks. Sorry.” He glanced down, embarrassed.

I smiled, knowing I’d caught myself a few time before too. But I wanted him to know he could be himself with me. “It’s okay, Chris. Feel free to be yourself in here. My office is your safe place. If you feel like cussing, let ‘er rip.”

Chris smiled. “You’re funny, Mrs. H, but I’m just trying to be respectful.”

“Thank you, Chris. That’s very nice of you.” One thing I’d learned is if you gave these kids real respect then they whole heartedly respected you back. Just knowing that Chris respected me enough now to watch his mouth around me spoke volumes.

He glanced at the journal. “I feel weird even letting you read my cuss words, but like you said, it’s my journal. They’re my thoughts.”

“Thank you for sharing them with me. I see you have a few folded pages. That’s great. Shows me that you’re digging deep with some personal stuff. I like that.” I flipped through the folded pages, wondering what deep thoughts he’d been having and if the journal had help him sort them out at all.

Chris flashed a bright smile. “Maybe I’ll let you read them someday… maybe.”

I nodded. “I’d like that very much. But, if that day never comes, I’m okay with that, too. Just keep writing. Never stop writing.”

“I’ve got a few lyrics in there too. Some sad stuff. You could say I have some inspiration.”

“Still haven’t heard from Kaitlyn?” I asked, skipping ahead through the folded pages.

“Nah. I guess I never will,” he said and glanced to the floor.

“Don’t say that. You never know. She may be struggling as much as you are right now. You never know what’s going on in her life.”

“And that is what’s killing me—the not-knowing part.”

“Well, don’t give up hope. You never know what life has to offer,” I said, watching as Chris stared at the floor. “Do you mind if I keep reading?” I asked him.

“No, not at all,” he said, glancing up and eyeing the journal in my hand. “There are a few more open pages in there.”

“Okay, thanks,” I said as I eagerly turned the pages.

The next journal entry was a tough one. Almost brought tears to my eyes. Truth be told, it did bring tears to my eyes. I just didn’t let them fall until Chris was long gone from my office and out of my sight. The pain behind his words was almost unbearable—even to me. My heart ached for him. This poor, lost soul. This hurting, hopeless guy. Sometimes, Graham told me I carried too much of these burdens for my clients. Today was one of those days. I just couldn’t snap out of it.

Dear Kaitlyn,

The pain of losing you… I can’t describe it. It’s like a part of my soul has been ripped away from me. I can’t function without it. You are carrying a piece of my heart around with you and you don’t even realize it. Every night before I fall asleep, I pray that God is taking care of you. I’m not there to protect you. I’m not there to help you if he puts his hands on you again. God, Kaitlyn, this is killing me. I need you so bad right now! My heart aches like nothing I’ve ever felt before. You were like my center of gravity… always pulling me toward you. I’ve lost my gravity. I’ve lost my hope. I’ve lost you. Something tells me I will never get you back. You’ll move on in your life without me and there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it. Fate is not on our side in this. I can feel it in my soul. Our two worlds will never collide. I fear we will always be walking separate roads, never to cross paths again. I love you, Kaitlyn. I love you so much it hurts. I’m not sure I can live my life without you. You make life worth living. You make love worth loving. You make everything worth it all. Without you, I have nothing. You took your chisel and chipped away a piece of me that I will never get back. And I’m okay with that because you have always been worth it. If I never hear from you again, I hope you live the rest of your days knowing what that kind of love feels like.

Forever yours,

Chris