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“We can watch that one after.” She grabs the remote to start it, and I have to wonder if she doesn’t want to be alone or maybe this is her letting me in. Either way, I’m not going to question it. “You didn’t miss much.”
“I’m sure I’ll catch up.” I take off my jacket and toss it to the side. Forty minutes into the movie, Koda grabs a throw blanket hanging on the back of the couch and cuddles into the couch. Ten minutes after that, she’s asleep. I know I should get up and take off, but instead, I lay my head back, and fifteen minutes later, I’m asleep myself.
CHAPTER EIGHT
dakota
“Breakfast is ready!” I shout over my shoulder, putting the plates of pancakes and fruit on the counter for the girls. “Let’s go before we’re late.”
They come running in from the family room, getting on their respective stools. “Mom, did you call Christopher,” Rain asks, picking up a blackberry and eating it, “about skating?”
“I have not,” I tell her, “but I will. I’m going to go get dressed.” Grabbing my cup of coffee, I walk up the stairs.
The last time I saw Christopher was four days ago when I opened my eyes and found the television on the menu and Christopher still sitting next to me, but his head was back and he was sleeping. I thought about waking him up, but instead, I fell right back asleep, only waking up at seven o’clock when his alarm on his phone started blaring. I felt him sit up next to me and opened my eyes, seeing him turn it off before rubbing his face. He looked over at me, the sleep still in his eyes. “It’s seven o’clock.” His voice was thick with sleep.
I stretched my arms over my head. “I can’t believe you slept all night sitting up.”
“Me too. I’m surprised I don’t have a kink in my neck. This couch passes the test.” He chuckled before he got to his feet. “I guess I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Yeah, I haven’t had a chance to sing naked yet.” I tossed the cover off me before standing. “I really have to get on that.”
“I will never live that down.” He grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch and held it in his hand before he turned and started to walk out of the room.
“You didn’t even take your shoes off.” I followed him out of the room. His head down, looking at his shoes.
He stopped at the front door and turned to look at me. “Thank you for last night.”
“I didn’t do anything.” My voice was lower than I wanted it to be.
“No, but you didn’t tell me to fuck off.” His hand reached for the handle of the door, and he opened it. “You let me come in instead of doing your own thing.”
“You’re welcome.” I smiled at him. He gave me a quick nod before he walked out of the house to his truck. I watched him pull out of the driveway before I closed the door and went on my way.
Now here I am, four days later, and Rain has brought him up every single day, sometimes twice a day. I walk into my bedroom, going to the closet to grab an outfit for today. “What does one wear to a survivor meeting?” I ask myself as I take a sip of the hot coffee in my hand. I pull out a pair of black jeans, slipping into them before taking out a long, white button-down cotton shirt. I look over at my sweaters before I select a beige crop one that falls to my stomach, with the white button-down coming out on the bottom. “This looks clean cut.” I look at myself in the mirror before sitting on my little bench and putting on a pair of white sneakers.
After I brush my teeth and hair, I am one minute ahead of schedule. We rush out of the house, and drop-off is over before I know it. The girls and I have gotten into a smooth routine. I’m even starting to get into the groove of things. I go to therapy twice a week—usually on Monday, after the weekend, and Friday, right before the weekend.
The weekends are when I think it hits me the most. It’s usually family time, but our family always feels like it’s missing something, so I go above and beyond to make sure the kids don’t feel like they’re missing anything.
I pull up to the address I plugged in my GPS, then park and get out. I grab my black crossbody purse, holding it in my hand so tight that my nails cut into my palm. I look around, seeing a couple of people standing outside the door. One of them holds a white Styrofoam cup. As soon as I get to the door, he smiles at me. “Are you here for the Nar-Anon meeting?”
“I am.” I look at him.
“I’m Shawn.” He extends his hand. “I’ll be running the meeting today.”
“I’m Dakota.” I nervously shake his hand. “But everyone calls me Koda.”
“Nice to meet you, Koda,” he says. “You can go in and sit anywhere you like.”
“Thank you,” I reply, pulling open the door and second-guessing why I’m even here. Maybe it’s too early in the grieving process for this. I walk down the five steps to the open blue doors, and my knees almost give up on me with each step. The room is bare, with just white walls and wooden chairs in a circle. I look around, trying not to turn around and run back out of the room. I see a brown table in the corner with a silver coffee pot and a stack of white Styrofoam cups beside it. I stand here I don’t even know how long. My mouth feels dry, like there is no liquid in my body.
The back of my neck tingles, while my stomach feels like there is a tsunami going on in it. “Hi.” I look over to the side and see a woman with long blond hair. “I’m Callie,” she says with a smile, “you’re new.”
“I am.” I try not to seem as nervous as I am. “Does it show? Is there an arrow over my head flashing?”
She laughs at my stupid joke. “Yes.” She points over my head. “It’s red right now.” I hold my purse in front of me with both hands. “We were all new once upon a time.”
I think about her words when I hear clapping and look over to see Shawn walking in without his cup. “We’re starting the meeting. Everyone, please grab a seat.”
