The Sordid Promise (38 page)

3 months later.

“How do you feel today, Nikki?” Dr. Longo asked as he slipped back in his large leather-bound chair and regarded the fish tank in his office along with me. “Do you feel ready to leave?”

I didn’t know how to answer that. I’d grown accustomed to the routine at Parkland. It sort-of felt like college again, except with a more interesting plethora of dorm mates. Parkland was stuck in the middle of a rural area with not much to do on the outside. Patient schedules were highly structured. We relied on that structure, and each other, to get through the boredom. Group therapy on Tuesday and Thursdays. Single session therapy on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Creative day on Saturday. And, the day I lived for; Sunday when we were allowed to walk the trail around the palatial colonial estate. We weren’t allowed access to the internet or live television, though.

A girl here, April, became my friend. She was a lifer, or so she said. She’d left Parkland numerous times. She came back so often, her parents decided to keep her here. Turned out she was on the Suicide Angels forum at one point. She said she’d met Trent. We swapped crazy stories back and forth about how grating he could be. She called his suicide ‘poetic’. I didn’t talk to her for a week after she said that. There never would be anything poetic about his death.

I sent Eric letters daily—I never got anything back. The first month hit the hardest. There were quite a few angry, expletive-filled letters that first month. After month two, and no response, I couldn’t blame him for changing his mind. I put him through a lot, things that even I wouldn’t have put up with from someone I loved. After month three, I categorized myself as an idiot for placing the blame at my feet like I was the guilty party in the relationship. I stopped writing him at the beginning of month three.

Eventually, I reconciled everything. I had to reconcile everything in order for Dr. Longo to consider of releasing me. The relationship was toxic. Still, as much as I could say I was better without him, I missed him terribly. After three months without communication, I assumed Estelle was right about him; he’d moved on after having successfully broken me. I didn’t want to think that. I hated to think that. What else was I to think when he never once tried to contact me? After a while, I tried to stop thinking about him. I knew I would always love him, even if he moved on with someone else. But his words—to wait for him—stuck with me.

April disagreed, and viewed my relationship with Eric as epic. She stated that my aunt was the reason I hadn’t heard from Eric. She claimed my aunt thought Eric would be a threat to my progress. When I asked how she specifically came across the information; she told me she fucked the very employee who received orders to send his letters back.

We had an extended conversation about her carelessness. We weren't provided means of birth control here. Copulation with staff and other patients was forbidden. She stupidly relied on the pullout method. I surmised that she was a bit of a thrill-seeker mixed with a touch of hypersexuality.

I didn’t think the three months I spent in the facility counted as progress.

I didn’t feel any different—medicated, but not different. I pretended to be a new Nikki, but the old Nikki was still there—waiting to stop the torturous happy posturing she had to endure in order to be released.

“Nikki? Are you with me?” Dr. Longo asked.

“I miss my dog. I miss my mother’s house. I miss the bay. I miss my freedom. Yes, I’m very ready to leave.”

“Do you remember the coping mechanisms we discussed?”

“Yep, I have my trusty composition book, and I promise to start actually running instead of walking. I’m thinking about taking up kickboxing to get out my anger. And I’m going to be more social…join a book club, like the one they have here. I’m going to do all the things I’m
supposed
to do.”

“And your happy place? Where will you find your happy place out in the world?”

I closed my eyes and rolled them. “There’s a place on the trail where I used to walk. It reminds me of something, something positive. I’ll go there, and—” I thumbed the moon keychain in my hand; the one that never left my fingertips. “—that will be my happy place. I remember that you said I should have a secondary, and I do. I’m going to maintain my mental exercises when I can’t get to the trail. Acknowledge. Evaluate. Reevaluate. Compose. Release.”

He seemed pleased with my answers and gave me a nod. “It’ll be good to see you in my office outside of Parkland, Nikki. Good luck out there.” He shoved his self-help book my way. It served as a parting gift to everyone who left the facility.

“Yep. See you Tuesdays and Thursdays,” I deadpanned. I clutched the keychain in my hand and walked down the hall. When Dr. Longo retreated from watching me in the hall, I slipped his self-help book into the nearest garbage can.

April joined my stride from the library. “I’m gonna miss you, you crazy girl.” She threw her arms around me as we walked.

“Maybe if you get your act together, we can do something on the outside. You don’t have to stay here for the rest of your life, April.”

“Told you, I like it better here. I don’t have your life, Nik.”

“Three months of telling you to stop calling me that,” I mumbled

“You’ll see. He’ll be out there waiting for you.” She grabbed my hand, fingering the moon keychain. “Motivate me. When you start planning your wedding, I’ll get out of this place for once and for all.”

“Liar. You’ll slit your wrists and be right back here.” The facility’s ‘Negative Nancy’, Carly, stated as she joined our walk. People called her by a much harsher term, a word that began with a ‘c’. I’ve only encountered one person who could use the word and attach a sensual connotation to it.

“Actually, next time that happens, I’ll be dead.” April skipped down the hall whistling a tune.

“You’ll be back!” Carly yelled after her back. She pointedly looked at me. “Cutters
always
come back.”

“Carly, I think the fact that you’re here will be the single motivation I need to stay away.”

“You’re not better. You’re just hiding it, so you can get out of here. I give you a month. Tops.”

I grumbled under my breath as I continued down the hall. I definitely wouldn’t miss this place.

I packed up my things, preparing to leave. I glanced around the room, realizing I forgot to pack the picture of my mother that sat on the night table. I placed it under my arm and made ready to meet Angie in the foyer.

Angie threw her arms around me, squeezing me like she missed me. I immediately pulled away from her.

I hadn’t forgotten anything. She showed me how little she changed by never visiting me. She missed every family therapy day, excluding the last one. The only reason she came was due to the guilt thrown her way by the staff members.

She glanced at the picture in my hand and took it with a warm smile. “You always looked like her.”

“I know. I always knew. I’m the one piece left of her in this world.”

“Oh, Nikki,” she sobbed. “I look at you now and it’s the precious little innocent girl again.”

I raised a brow. “I would hope not.”

“Oh you know what I mean, the girl who dreamed for the world and had a glint of happiness in her eye. It looks like she’s back.”

I nodded to her as we walked down the concrete steps, towards the parking lot.

“Your puppy is driving me crazy. You have no idea how much she misses you. Gowan had to replace the front door a couple of times.”

“Gowan is…staying at my mother’s house? He’s back from wherever he was?”

“Yep,” she replied flippantly. “So, any particular food you’re craving? Anywhere you’d like to go first?”

“Home. I miss Kifo.”

“Great. I can cook whatever you’d like when we get home.”

I nodded with a fake smile. I didn’t like the fact that she was overtly coddling me as if I were a fragile doll. It was degrading. Legally, I was stuck under her guardianship until I could prove that I was mentally stable.

I looked around my mother’s home, noting that Angie and Gowan had fully moved in.

“How long are you two going to babysit me?” I looked at Gowan. Although I’d never met him before, there was something so familiar about him.

“That’s right. You two have never met,” Angie surmised in realization. “I tried to get him to go to that one family therapy we had—“

“I told her that was something that should’ve been reserved for family. I wanted you to be comfortable with me first. I’m Dr. Gowan Lemon, Angie’s husband. It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Givens.” His eyes twinkled with a falsity behind them. “I’ve heard…so much about you.”

“H-have you?” I asked, staring at my hand as it lingered in his hold. Those eyes. That name. Eric’s tattoo flashed in my memory. I remembered the title the nurse gave Angie in the hospital: Mrs. Lemon. I remembered what Trent’s hacker friend knew about the doctors on Suicide Angels.
Dr. B went to Africa and got married.
This wasn’t a coincidence.
“You…wouldn’t happen to be related to a Howard Lemon, Jr., would you?” My question was redundant, because I knew the truth.

“Sr., actually. How did you know that?” Angie asked with surprise. “That’s his father. Howard Lemon Sr. He passed away from colon cancer some time ago.”

“Jr. was my brother. He died some time ago—before my father.” Gowan studied me….as if waiting for something. “It’s such a big house, Nikki,” he beamed. “I hope you don’t plan to kick us out.”

“Dr. Longo said that we shouldn’t smother her, babe. She has to figure out how to cope on her own.”

“We’ll be here, until you want us to leave,” Gowan promised.

I snatched my hand from his crushing hold. “Tomorrow, then?” 

Gowan’s grin deepened as Angie looked at me in awe. 

“I’m just kidding,” I said with an uneasy smile.

Angie continued to look at me with fragility. Gowan stopped short when his phone chimed. For some reason, the mere fact that he looked at it, drew ire from Angie. They argued with their eyes for a moment, making me feel awkward.

“I’m…going to go for a walk with Kifo.”

“That’s a very good idea,” Gowan agreed

“No!” Angie snapped. Again, more disagreements with their eyes. “Fine,” Angie relented. “Whatever you decide. Just…be mindful of the past. Be mindful of what’s really good for you.”

“Angie,” Gowan warned, “butt out.”

She turned back to the stove without a word of reprisal.

The domineering nature of the family was genetic, I supposed. I glanced at Gowan, not sure if he should be left alone with my aunt. Given they had been married for nearly a year, maybe this was all a coincidence. Maybe I wanted to play dumb, because I wasn’t prepared to deal with all things that pertained to being with Eric.

“Don’t worry yourself, kiddo,” Gowan said. “It’ll all work itself out. Enjoy your walk. I’m quite sure you will.”

“Um…okay.” I drawled. With a nod, I was out the door.

I couldn’t help myself, my steps were drawn to the empty driveway. I stood on the walk, staring at the seemingly empty house.

“He moved out,” the man from across the street said. He looked at Kifo with a slight familiarity.

“Was…Maisha your dog?”

“Maisha?”

“The Rottweiler. Pink collar—“

“Ah. Yes. My ex-wife’s,” he responded through a short nod. “You’re the one who got her? Your boyfriend must be smitten. He paid a pretty penny to buy her from me in—guess that was August. Heard she was well taken care of. She was always a loyal dog. How’s this one doing you?”

“Good.” I looked back at Eric’s house, shaking my head. “How much did Maisha go for?”

He gave me a look and tossed his eyes to his house. “Don’t recall the exact amount. I don’t believe in counting other people’s pennies.”

“That usually means it was a lot, or not enough. Given the way she was taken care of, sure she meant a lot to you. I like to count pennies, by the way.”

He pointedly glanced back at his house.

“He paid off your
mortgage
?” I gasped as I clutched my chest.

“Are you…all right there?”

“Fine,” I swallowed. “When did he…?” My eyes darted to what use to be Eric’s house.

“Oh about two and a half months back. Don’t know where he went though. He wouldn’t exactly say. Sure it’s not far. He still works at the hospital. I had to take my kid to the E.R. and saw him there.”

“How did he…look?”

He looked at me with puzzlement. “Fine, I guess. I’ll…let you get on with your walk.” He walked back across the street.

“Nikki? Nikki?” 

Immediately feeling like I was doing something wrong, I looked back at Angie with question. 

“You forgot this—just in case you need it on your walk.” She shoved her messenger bag at me.

I glanced at the leather satchel. “Um…this isn’t mine.”

“Just take the thing, Nikki.” She shoved it at me. “You’ll need it.” She clutched her chest while grimacing and glanced back at the house. Gowan was standing in the drive, calling for her. She looked suddenly nervous. “I love you, Nikki. I’m sure you think I have a strange way of showing it, but we’re family. If you ever doubted, just remember that I always knew who murdered your father. I could’ve gone to the police at any time. I didn’t because we are all we have. I’m counting on you to use that ruthlessness to protect yourself. I suppose it’s the one thing you inherited from your mother that I’m grateful for.”