'The beginning of atonement is the sense of its necessity.'
-Lord Byron
"Alright everyone. Good group today." There were a few nods to these words from the small gathering of people who sat together in a circle before the man leading the session proceeded to address the small group. "We'll meet back here at eight am tomorrow, after room checks and breakfast to continue this group discussion on accountability."
With that, the few people gathered stood from their chairs and, one by one in a wave of hushed murmurs amongst themselves, they began to file out of the room. As they did so, the group counselor called to one of them in order to halt their departure.
"Aden." The counselor called out, gaining the young man's attention as he paused in his step. "I'd like you to stick around so we can talk." The small nod of the head followed the turn of the young man's tall, lanky body back towards the counselor.
And the group's leader was met with a deep, rich, dark chocolate brown gaze as silence followed.
The young man, in his mid twenties, seemed to posses an almost melancholic darkness about him. His inky black hair was cropped to an almost shaved cut that accentuated and enhanced his lean, sharply angular facial features and high cheekbones. Features that held a faint hint of rebellion in the plethora of piercings in both ears, as well as a small nose stud.
Even what he wore was a bit somber.
And black...
A simple black button-down dress shirt with the sleeves rolled to just below the elbows, accented with tasteful black leather wrist bands that subtlety called attention to the decorative tattoos along his forearms. And dark blue jeans that came discreetly laced around his waist with a thick studded leather belt...hidden by the un-tucked dress shirt as the whole outfit came finished with simple black shoes that neither drew the eye or cause it to shy away.
When everyone else had left, and the two of them were alone, the counselor stepped towards the young man with a calm expression and a look of pride within his eyes.
"I was particularly impressed with you in group today, Aden." He said, and the young man gave a small nod. "It's been one hell of a road, but you've come a really long way."
And though there was no smile along his face to express appreciation for the complement, the young man seemed none-the-less grateful for the counselor's uplifting words.
"Thanks, David." Aden murmured quietly in a subdued voice as his gaze drifted towards his feet, and he heard a light chuckle from the man standing in front of him.
"Don't thank me." David said. "You're the one who's finally put in the effort." This came in admiration and respect as the group's counselor continued. "And I'm not the only one who's noticed." Aden's eyes lifted from his shoes when David had said this, the two regarding each other for a moment. "Doctor Koegel tells me you've been making real progress in your sessions with him." David said as he held Aden's gaze, giving a faint pause in his words as he searched for something in his pant's pocket before pulling out a small piece of paper. "Which is why he said I should give you this." As he handed the piece of paper to Aden, the two looked at each other before Aden unfolded the paper to see that upon it had been written a phone number.
Aden read the number quickly, a few times, before looking to David with a questioning look in his eyes, though he didn't utter a word. And David returned this look with a calm, neutral expression.
"Doctor Koegel managed to find Shannon's current phone number." The name of his estranged foster mother took Aden by surprise as he felt a slight twinge of panic. "But he didn't think you should have it until now." David said, not missing the shift in Aden's otherwise stoic expression. "He said that you're ready for this step."David assured him. "And after the way this group session went," David's words came as calm as they were confident with only the briefest pause before he continued. "I agree with him."
"I haven't talked to her in over eight years." Aden quietly uttered to himself as he continued to stare at the piece of paper in his hand.
"I know." David replied. "Which is why I think it would be a good idea for you to take a minute to think about what you're going to say to her. Play it out in your head a couple of times." Aden wordlessly nodded to this. "When you're ready, you can come and use the phone in my office so you have some privacy." David said before offering some consoling words. "When you're finished, I'd like you to come see me, okay?"
"Yeah. Okay." Aden mumbled with a numb hollowness, turning away to go gather his thoughts before making this call.
"Aden." He heard his name again, stopping without turning around as he waited for the other man to speak. "This call. It's probably going to stir up some pretty strong feelings." David said. "For both of you." Aden gave the infinitesimal hang of his head to this truth. "And you need to be prepared to take ownership for your part in that." Aden just nodded, unable to speak to this daunting task set before him.
Slowly making his way outside into the terrace of the inpatient treatment center he had called home for months now, Aden's thoughts came drawn to his foster mother. Shannon Garacie. The last time he had seen her, he had been sixteen and so very angry.
Angry at her.
Angry at her husband, Doug.
Angry at the foster care system.
Angry at the world.
At sixteen, he had held the misguided, naive belief that he could do better on his own. And he had been wrong. But he'd managed to bring the court to his side. When he was emancipated and severed from the guardianship of his foster parents, people whom he had spend just as much time in their home as out of it, he had left. And when he'd left, he'd said things he couldn't take back.
Things he knew that he needed to at least try and make up for.
Stepping back into the facility, Aden made his way to David's office. Though there was a phone in the day-room that could be used when phone privileges were earned, Aden was grateful for the privacy David had offered for the nature of this conversation.
Walking into the counselor's office, Aden closed the door behind him and took a deep breath to steady himself and bolster his nerves. And he picked up the phone as he looked to the hand written note once more. He didn't know how this conversation would go. How it would begin. Or End. But he knew that it was necessary if he ever wanted to put to rest this part of his history.
Using his middle digit to press the number pad, Aden held his breath as he placed the phone to his ear. But the only sound he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears, making them ring. And the hammering of his heart in his chest. Again, he took another deep inhalation to center himself before the dial tone ceased and someone on the other end of the line finally answered.
'Hello?'
Though he hadn't heard it in years, it struck him how the disembodied, feminine voice sounded so familiar. As if nothing about this woman had changed. Not a single thing. And...a part of him found some comfort in that. This intimate familiarity.
"Hi." Aden mumbled quietly into the phone, his own voice sounding so strange and foreign to him now. "Is this Shannon Garacie?" He asked, though he had no doubt that it was.
'This is she.' The voice cordially confirmed in a friendly tone. 'Who, may I ask, is calling?'
Aden held his breath for a moment.
Only a moment.
Before finally taking the pungent and making an introduction.
"Hey Shannon," Aden replied. "It's me." He said, suddenly feeling quite silly as he began again. "It's Aden."
What followed, was deafening silence, before he heard a small gasp of stunned disbelief.
'...Aden..?' This came softly uttered in a stifled tone of surprise from the other end of the line.
"Yeah." He whispered. "It's me." And he heard more soft ambient noise, as if the woman were attempting to catch her breath from the shock of this call.
'Oh, Sweetheart!' She said, her disembodied voice sounding as if she were overcome with emotion and about to cry. 'It's been so long!'
"I know." Aden agreed.
'How have you been?' He heard the voice ask, and automatically his bottom lip was drawn up in between his teeth to silence himself.
Such a benign question. Yet he didn't quite know how to answer. Though he wasn't exactly 'good', and he knew he still had such a long road ahead of him, Aden knew that he had been far worse than he was right now.
'Aden?' The call of his name drew him back to the conversation as he cleared his throat.
"Yeah." He replied, letting Shannon know that he was still on the line. "I'm okay." He finally decided upon this diplomatic response to her question.
'I'm glad to hear that.' He heard this whispered into the phone. 'I never stopped thinking about you, sweetheart.' She said with a faint pause. 'Or worrying about you.'
"I know." Aden mumbled back quietly with the slight hang of his head towards this affection as his free hand brushed the back of his neck.
'It's been such a long time.' He heard Shannon's disembodied voice say. 'Since we've talked.' She gave a faint pause before beginning again. 'So what have you been up to?'
Yet another innocent question. Harmless. Normal, even. But it was one that beard such a heavy weight on him. Because...in part...this benign question was exactly why he was calling in the first place. After so many years.
But.
He wasn't exactly sure where to begin.
"Well," He started, faltering slightly before he found his words again. "I have a kid now." This fell awkwardly from his lips as he spoke. "A daughter."
'A daughter?' The disembodied voice of his foster mother came wholly surprised by this, and Aden gave a silent nod before he replied.
"Yeah." He said, his voice fading. "Her name's Merry."
'...after your mother..?' Shannon quietly asked, and the mention of his deceased mother caused a twinge of pain as Aden's brows furrowed and he gave another small bob of the head.
"Sort of." Aden admitted. "But it's spelled differently. Like joy."
'That's beautiful, Aden.' He heard this said in a soft, warmed tone-as if Shannon truly meant it-before she continued with another question. 'So, how old is she?'
"She just turned one last week." He replied.
Though, he made no mention of how he had been advised against leaving the treatment center to see his daughter on her birthday. How her mother had brought her to the facility to see him, just so he could be a part of the celebration.
'One? Really?' The voice seemed to be almost gushing now as it drew Aden's attention. 'Is she walking yet?'
"Yeah." Aden mumbled. "She is." He said.
But...
He didn't say how she'd taken her first steps when she had been ten months old.
Or how he hadn't been there to see them.
'What's she like?' Shannon asked, and Aden bit against his bottom lip as he stared at the floor.
In this conversation with his foster mother, he needed to be honest. With her. And with himself.
But...
He didn't like the way he knew this would make him feel. So he took a breath to steady himself. Bolster his courage. If he wanted to move forward and continue making gains and progress, this conversation needed to happen. And he needed to tell the truth.
"I don't really know." Aden finally admitted through the exhale. "She's with her mom now, and I don't get to see her that often." Silence followed as he felt Shannon taking this bit of information in.
'So,' Shannon's words were slow and thoughtful as she attempted to place these pieces together. 'you and her mother aren't together?'
"No." Aden mumbled lightly with the infinitesimal shake of his head as he stared at nothing in particular. "Kate and I. We're together." He said. "I just-" He faltered a moment on his words before trying again. "I have some things I need to work out with myself right now." And, to his own ears, his voice sounded sadder over this statement than he had meant it to. "That's kind of why I'm calling." He said, pausing a moment before delivering the next bit of news. "I'm actually in rehab now."
This time, with what he'd just told her, the silence that followed was far longer than he had wanted it to be. Deafening, really. She didn't respond for the longest time. And he sensed that she had questions. So many questions. Questions, he knew, that he wasn't ready to answer.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
About his most recent and grievous offense. One that shamed any and all of his acts of adolescent rebellion. About how, when his daughter had been only three months old, Kate's 12-week maternity leave had ended. About how, on Kate's first day back at her job, she had entrusted Aden with the care of their child. His child. His baby girl. About how...when Kate had left...Merry had begun to cry. And the sound of it had been so overwhelming that it had thrown him into a state of panic. That, instead of caring for her as he should have, Aden slipped. How he'd gotten so high, just to escape, that he'd lost consciousness. How he'd not only endangered his own life, but the life of his infant daughter. About how, when Kate had come back home, their daughter was still crying. How she found him passed out in their room.
No.
He doubted he would ever be able to talk about that day with Shannon.
The day he had so utterly failed as a father and a human being.
Not without inflicting pain and grief she didn't need to feel.
But then, this wasn't something he needed to do in order make amends.
Seek atonement.
'Oh, sweetheart...' This came a muffled sigh through the receiver that drew Aden up out of his thoughts of that day. 'What happened?' Shannon asked, and Aden found himself grateful when her next question came too suddenly for him to have answered her first. 'Are you okay?' Her words came laced in maternal concern. 'Do you need anything?'
"I'm okay, really." Aden mumbled into the phone. "I-ah..." His voice faltered a moment in hesitation as he exhaled through a thready breath. "I just need you to listen." He said before the last word from his lips fell in a breathless whisper. "...please..?"
A breath of hesitation followed before he heard the voice of his foster mother once more. A soft and fragile flutter against his mind.
'...okay...'
"When-" Aden paused in his words, thinking them over before he began again in this act of contrition. "When I was a kid. Living with you." He said. "All of the times I got upset. And you-" He faltered, swallowing before parting dried lips that faintly trembled. "you were there. Every time. Just trying to comfort me. All of the times you tried to hold me." This came faintly whispered with the drop of his voice. "I didn't know how to let you love me." He said with the hang of his head. "All I ever did was just push you away, and I know now how much that hurt you." This came through a shuddered whisper filled with remorse. "And I'm so sorry about that."
'Aden.' This came a pained, weak protest to his apology from the other end of the phone, but there was more that he needed to tell her.
That she needed to hear from him.
"And when I left," He whispered lightly. "I said things to you that I had absolutely no right to." Aden said with the humbled lowering of his voice. "I can't take them back. And I know what I did isn't okay." He said. "I'm not expecting you to forgive me, Shannon." Though, as he said this, he found himself hoping that she might. "I just needed you to know that I'm sorry."
When he had finished this apology, one of many he would need to make, a heavy silence followed. In its wake, he could hear the soft crying of his foster mother.
He hadn't been a good son.
He hadn't been a good man.
He hadn't been a good father.
But...
He wanted to be.
And he understood that the road to redemption would be long. And hard. His sins were many, and great, and his apologies for past wrongs would not always be so easily forgiven. That trust in him would need to be rebuilt. Slowly, over time and the effort he put forward in restoring faith in others.
Aden knew that this phone call had been just a single step on this long road of atonement.
But, in this moment, he found himself grasping a precious gift.
Hope.
And a second chance.
The End