Chapter 12

When I am seventeen-year-old me again I find myself collapsed on the floor next to the couch. Tears are uncontrollably running down my cheeks and dropping onto the floor. “I miss Mom”, I finally say and Dad sits down next to me holding me in his arms. “I know”, he says, and we stay like this for a while. “I want you to start taking school serious, to take your future serious, because I want you to have a good life. You deserve a good life”. I don’t say anything, I just start crying more. I want to tell him everything. About that day with the deposit, about my plans with May, about my first day drinking and everything after. Well maybe not everything. “I want a good life”, I finally say, and he hugs me tighter. I stare at the pink pillow on the couch and I think about what Mom would think about me. Would she be disappointed at how I turned out, worried like Dad, sad or angry even? I come to the conclusion that it probably doesn’t matter, but what does matter is that she would want me to have a good life too and I smile. I tell my Dad that I don’t even like drinking, I just like the not feeling reality part. My reality. He tells me he will do everything in his power to help me. I tell him I want to be a writer and about the school I wanted to go to but couldn’t. He tells me he feels so sorry, but that I can still follow my dreams. “But what about the money”, I ask. “We will make it work”, he says. We don’t say anything for a little while and just sit on the couch. “I don’t know if I can just stop with the drinking”, I add, “by myself at least I mean”. And it’s the truth. I don’t know if I can but even if I could, I don’t want to do it alone. I am sick of doing things alone. Dad tells me, he will get me help and it will be okay. I believe him. We decide to be open to each other from now on and to tell each other everything, well at least the important thing. Then we get up and we make dinner together. I don’t think I have ever cooked with Dad, but here we are standing in the kitchen, slicing tomatoes and onions and cooking pasta. We decided to start with something simple. Pasta with tomatoes, cheese and onions. When we are done, we sit down on the table and eat our meal like a real family. We talk about football and school how good the pasta tastes and that we should make it again soon. I tell him that I am thinking about texting May and explaining to her why I ghosted her. “That’s a beautiful idea, Libby”, he says. We start talking about rehab facilities just in case and about meetings and sponsors that have helped him. I tell him I am ready to try. Maybe I will stay sober, maybe I won’t, but I really want to.