Page 77 of Desperate Haste

“A deciding factor for what?” I look around at the people watching me as if they’re waiting for me to officially crack and fall into a million pieces. Each of them watches me carefully without speaking.

Kolbi, always the brave one, speaks first. “Let’s sit.”

Everyone takes their seats again and I find myself perched on an overstuffed ottoman in the center of the room. I’ve never had a true intervention before but I’m sure that this is what it feels like.

“We need to talk about what you’re going to do to get better, Malcolm,” Kolbi starts.

“I already know what I need to do to get better,” I reply matter of factly. I’d decided on it at some point earlier this morning when I woke up and it was still dark outside. It didn’t take me long to know what I want to do—what I need to do—even if it isn’t the easiest option.

“Oh,” Kolbi stops short, surprised. He glances around at the other people in the room who look as equally stunned as he did. “Well, what do you want to do?”

“I want to go to the rehab facility I went to before and go through the program. You know, the one I did…before.” My shoulders tense and suddenly my eyes are on my hands. I don’t look up until I feel a pair of soft hands resting on my shoulders. When I turn to look at them, it’s Magnolia who’s standing behind me. She has a gentle smile on her face that reminds me that these people are my friends, my chosen family, and I don’t need to feel ashamed about what I need. Even though I do. A lot.

“It worked before and I liked the people. They were good to me and they helped me get back on my feet. And meetings, I’ll start to go to those again too. I’ll have to find a new sponsor…”

“Oh, we’ve already got that figured out.” Hank flashes me a grin that makes me nervous. “We think you’ll like him.”

“You can worry about that once you come home though. We can call the facility today, see if they have space. You sure that’s what you want to do?” Kolbi confirms.

“Wantto?” I chuckle. “Not really, no. The thought of being gone for a month makes my skin itch. I want to put my head through a wall just thinking about starting the process over, but it’s what Ineedto do. I have some shit I need to work through and the only way to do that is to focus on myself for a bit. I just worry about the bar and everyone there and?—”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that either. We’ve already got it covered,” Bailey chirps and smiles proudly.

I look at everyone around the room and can’t believe how lucky I am to call these people my friends. After what I put them through and how I treated them, I’m surprised they want anything to do with me at all. But here they are, looking back at me with as much belief and support that they had in me before I got lost. My lips pull up as an overwhelming sense of appreciation for them all overtakes me. Without speaking, I stand from the ottoman and everyone stands with me, then, I walk around and give each and every one of them a hug.

“Okay, enough,” Conrad protests when I hold onto him for a few seconds longer than he appreciates.

“I think we should make that call,” I sigh, looking at Kolbi who gives me a nod of agreement.

Over the next hour, he and I sit together in his study and call the facility who helped me through my first round of getting sober. They told me that they can get me in tomorrow and even said they are looking forward to seeing me. While I’m not looking forward to seeing them, I am looking forward to how I’ll feel once my time with them is over. Andthatis what’s carrying me through.

The next day, my three friends offer to drive me to the clinic, which I gladly accept. Before making it out of the city, I ask to make one stop. There’s something I need to do, something I need to ask, before I leave. Pulling up to her building, anxiety ripples through my body as I look out the car window at the front door of her building.

“You want one of us to go with you?” Hank asks, turning around to look at me from the passenger seat.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“You have twenty minutes before we come in after you,” Conrad notes with a raised brow.

“I won’t be long.” My hand pushes the car door open and I hop out. I can make my way to her place with my eyes closed but as I stand in front of her door, it’s like I’m trying to knock on the door of a stranger’s house. Finally, I muster up the willpower to raise my hand and knock. When she opens it, she takes a step back in surprise to find me standing there.

“What are you doing here?” Her eyes look swollen and her hair is fussed up into a bun on the top of her head. I half expected her to not be home, seeing as how it’s a Tuesday and she would normally be at the office. Now that she is standing in front of me, I’m going to have to say what I’ve rehearsed in my head about a hundred times now.

“I’m on my way to rehab. I’m going back to the facility I went to when I first got sober. They have this program, it’s thirty days where you pretty much sit in a circle and sing songs and talk about your feelings and shit but it works,” I blurt out.

She takes a deep breath and pulls her shoulders back. “I know.”

“You know?”

“Bailey…”

I nod my head. Of course.

“Why did you come here, Malcolm?” she asks again.

“I came to tell you something. Well, more like to ask you something.” My heart is pounding so hard in my chest I can hear it in my ears. When she doesn’t say anything, I continue. Taking a step towards her, I slip the silver-banded ring off my hand that I haven’t taken off since receiving it, and hold it out towards her.

“Can you hang onto this for me? Until I get back?” Marshall’s ring is poised between my first two fingers and thumb, hovering between us. Her arms are crossed in front of her as she looks at the ring and back to me. “Please?”

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