Page 22 of Impulsive Love

After we finish, I grab my coffee and step out to our smoking area. I light up, and as I blow out the smoke, I stare out at the ocean. Nathan comes to stand next to me, lighting his own cigarette.

Neither of us speaks, we just take in the peace and tranquility of the vast body of water in front of us, it’s so beautiful. The breeze feels so good on my face and I feel lighter than I have in a long time.

I snub out my smoke and get ready to head inside when he stops me. “What are your plans when you’re done with treatment?”

I turn to look at him. “I don’t know. Shit’s not really great back home right now.” I tell him about Mom, Haddie, Joe, and the baby.

“Fuck. That’s intense, man.”

I shake my head and swallow down the lump in my throat. “When I finish I don’t think I should go back home, not yet at least. I’d be no good to that baby and no good to Haddie. I know I need to make amends, but I need to make sure I’m truly clean and sober. I have to get my shit together and figure out what I want.” Nathan sits down on the bench and I sit on the other side.

“My best friend, the guy who helped get in me here, has a construction company. If you want to make California your home for a bit, I bet I could get you a job.” He picks at his thumbnail.

“I appreciate the offer, let me think about it.” If I stay I’ll be leaving my dad alone, but maybe I need to figure out my life. As far as Haddie and the baby goes…I’m no good for her, or the child.

They’re better off without me.

Haddie

One Year Later

* * *

“Just call the office if you need anything. The number is on the magnet,” I tell the wife of my new patient as I stick my laptop into my bag and head out to my car.

That was my last patient for the day, so I head across town to my parents’ house. I pull into the driveway and climb out. I’m exhausted, but it’ll be a long time before I’ll be able to go to sleep.

I reach the front door and my dad opens it with my baby girl in his arms, snoozing away. “Hey,” I whisper. “How was she today?” I stroke a hand over my baby girl’s blonde fuzz.

“She was perfect. When I got home, we took a nap and then she ate four ounces. We did some tummy time and then changed her diaper before she passed out again.” My dad is one of the world’s best grandpas. All his grandbabies love him to pieces, even my little Madison Anne—named after her late grandmother, her father’s mom.

Dad reluctantly hands over my four-month-old daughter and I hug her to my chest. She snuggles against me and I kiss the top of her head before inhaling her sweet lavender and chamomile scent.

“Are you going to Robert’s next?” Dad asks as he picks the carrier up, placing it on the sofa.

I place Madison in it and smile at my dad. “Yeah, I’m making spaghetti.” The baby and I go every night to Chris’s dad’s home, to visit and then cook him dinner. It works out perfect because after we eat, he gets snuggle time with his granddaughter and I can get my charting done from my visits earlier in the day.

“Tell him not to forget we’re going fishing Saturday.” Dad and Joe have included Robert in a lot of stuff they do, for which I’m grateful. I know it’s been hard on him, having Chris across the country living in California.

We haven’t talked since I told him I was pregnant—we’ve written each other, but they’re very formal and weird. He knows we have a daughter and she’s named after his mom. Robert’s facetimed with him while he’s watched Madison, so I know Chris has seen her.

Other than that, he just tells me about his job—he’s working for a friend of a friend he met in rehab. Chris was never the type to work with his hands, so the fact that he’s working for a construction company, building McMansions, is bizarre, but I’m happy for him.

Robert’s tried to show me pictures of Chris in California, but I never look. I’m not sure why, maybe because I mean nothing to him, my daughter means nothing to him. If I see him, I’m not sure how I’d react.

I’m fine raising her alone, I’m just sad that instead of coming back here after treatment he stayed out there, leaving his father alone.

That’s also why my daughter’s last name is Carmichael and not Anderson. I cried to Robert when I made that decision, but he was so damn sweet about it and said she was his granddaughter no matter what her last name was.

I’m pulling into the driveway when the front door flies open. Robert comes out, smiling wide. “There’s my girls.”

“Hi, Robert.” I climb out and step right into his arms. He kisses the top of my head. “How was your day?” He’s pretty much practicing part-time now. He keeps Madison two days a week and then my mom and/or dad keep her the other two.

I only work four days a week, but it’s ten-hour days, which is nice because then I have three days with just my girl.

Motherhood has been a rollercoaster ride, but I’ve loved every minute. My little girl came into the world surrounded by all three of her grandparents and my big sister.

I had a little post-partum when she was about a month old. I was crying all the time, I wasn’t taking care of myself, and I couldn’t sleep. Everyone was worried and I hated that I caused that. Mom finally convinced me to get help. Since I’m breastfeeding, I’m on an extremely low dose of an anti-depressants and I began exercising.

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