1
Phoenix
Daily Affirmation: “I will stop worrying. I will learn to deal with my worries in a logical way.”
I stareup at the beige siding along the front of the house and blow out a heavy sigh.
It’s kind of funny, seeking refuge in the one place I’ve avoided for so long. Life always seems to turn out this way. You waste so much time and energy steering yourself away from a particular path, yet you end up on that path regardless.
A deep-orange rust covers the three metal birds hanging above the garage. Dad loved those birds. I told him they looked tacky, but he insisted they stay. So, my brother Tyler and I named them and it became a running joke.
I tap out a text to Tyler:Buffy, Willow, and Xander say hi. We wish you were here.
I kill the engine and let my head fall back against the headrest. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. I can’t sit in my car all day—I have nowhere else to go, and it’s twenty-six degrees outside. Besides, it’s not like Dad is going to come out to greet me. His wide smile flashes in my mind, and my cheeks push up the slightest bit. It was impossible not to smile whenever he was around. He illuminated any room he walked into. I swear, the world got a bit darker when he passed.
Cancer can go fuck itself.
I close my eyes, count back from ten, and then swing open the car door. I hoist my bags out of the back seat, lug them up the driveway, and I don’t stop moving until I’m twisting the key in the jiggly knob of the front door. Quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid, I step inside.
My eyes bounce around the entryway like a scared animal approaching a watering hole. Maybe if he didn’t die here, I’d feel differently. Maybe we all would. My mother hasn’t stepped foot in this house since his body was rolled out the front door, and my brother never looked back since he left after he graduated high school. I think that’s why Dad left this shore house to me. He knew I’d need it one day. Somehow, he knew this could be my safe haven.
He was the only one who always knew what I needed.
Grief sinks into my stomach like a lead ball, splashing the bile around. For years, Mom hounded me to sell this place.“You’re throwing away your money. It’s foolish.”But it wasn’t foolish to me, and I’m glad I stuck to my guns on this one because it feels right being here after everything I’ve gone through. It’s the only comforting thing I have left to hold on to.
I do a quick tour of the first floor. Eat-in kitchen where I used to watch Dad cook breakfast; living room with the brick fireplace we never lit because we only lived here during the summer; glass sliders that lead out onto the deck we’d jump off of every Fourth of July. Everything is exactly how I remember it, only now it’s cold and empty. The vivid memories with Dad have been drained of their color.
Everything might look the same, but everything is different.
My combat boots echo off the wooden stairs as I head upstairs to my old bedroom, keeping my head down as I walk past my parents’ room and focus on the thought of sleeping on a mattress bigger than a twin for the first time in almost two years. I drop my bags in the corner of the room and flop facedown onto the puffy white comforter.
My phone buzzes, and I scramble to get it out of my pocket. My heart sinks when Tyler’s name isn’t the one flashing across the screen, but only for a second. I clear my throat and try to mimic a cheery tone.
“Hey, Drew.”
Drew’s assertive voice blares through the speaker. “You’re free. Why do you sound so sad?”
I roll over onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. “Being free isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Sure, it is. Pizza, privacy, and porn, remember?”
“That wasyourlist. Mine didn’t include porn.”
“Well, it should. Maybe that’s why you’re so damn depressed all the time.”
I smirk. “What are you up to?”
“You know damn well what I’m doing: A whole lot of fucking nothing. The question is, what areyoudoing? How does it feel to be out of the looney bin?”
“Don’t call it that.” My eyes roam around my bare bedroom. “In a way, it feels like I never left. The world is the same, but there’s more pressure now. Like I already fucked up once, so I need to do better this time.”
“Dude, you’re setting yourself up for failure if you think you aren’t going to make any mistakes from here on out. You need to be more like me. Lower the bar. Expect to fuck up, and then when you do something right, you’ll surprise yourself.”
A slight smile curves my lips. “What am I going to do out here without you and your prolific advice?”
“You’ll survive until I get out.”
Drew has been my friend for the last sixteen months while I was at Clearview. I don’t know how I would’ve survived that place without him. Not that it was so bad there; everyone was nice for the most part. But staying at a residential mental health facility isn’t exactly the same as staying at an all-inclusive resort in Cabo.