Submerged

She laughed. “You’ll do fine. Kelly’s already got you up on a gold-plated pedestal.”

“You sure know how to put a guy at ease,” he said wryly.

“Come on, Marcus. It’ll be fun. We’ll have lunch tomorrow with the kids, Kelly and Steve after we see Detective Zur.”

He grinned. “Sounds like a date.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

“Lunch tomorrow is fine, Rebecca.”

“See you in twenty minutes.”

“Actually, I have someplace I need to be. I’ll take a cab to your place afterward so I can pick up my car.” After she agreed, he hung up.

During the examination, all he could think about was Rebecca and how close they’d all come to death. It put things in perspective. Life was short. Death could come knocking any time.

After Walter Kingston attempted to drown Rebecca, Marcus realized something had changed in his own life. He could finally breathe. It was like he’d been submerged, lost, but now a switch had been flipped. Like he’d been given a new lease on life… and more. A new relationship—one he’d never expected but wanted very much to explore.

However, he had to clean up his old life first. He’d left too much unfinished.

Time to burn the wooden box.

This time, he knew he’d do it. He’d watch the damn thing burn until all that was left was a pile of ashes. He was done with holding on to the past. Done with drugs. Done with ghosts. As soon as he got home, he’d light a fire in the fireplace.

Dust to dust, ashes to ashes…

In the hallway near the nurses’ station he spotted a public phone. Should he make the call?

“Time to get a new life,” Rebecca had said.

Before he could do that, he needed to say farewell to the old one.

He grabbed the receiver and dialed. When his former mother-in-law picked up, he took a deep breath. “Mom—uh, Wanda? It’s Marcus. I wanted to let you know that I will be coming to Jane’s memorial.”

“That’s wonderful,” Wanda said.

“I, uh… I’ll be bringing a guest, if that’s all right.”

“Of course. Anyone I know?”

“No. It’s someone I… met recently.”

“A woman?” There was surprise in Wanda’s voice, and something that sounded like joy.

“Yes,” he said. “Rebecca.”

There was a long pause. Was Wanda upset with him?

“Marcus,” she said, “I’m so relieved to hear you’re finally ready to move on.”

“What?”

“Jane would want you to be happy, dear. So would Ryan. Neither of them would want to see you all alone in this world.”

Wanda’s response was nothing like he’d expected.

“Thank you… Mom.”

“You’ll always be my son, Marcus. In my heart. You gave my daughter the best years of her life.”

“And some not so good ones,” he reminded her.

“Jane never dwelled on that stuff. She loved you. You loved her. You just went missing for a while. And you’ve been lost ever since she and Ryan died.”

Marcus lowered his head and turned his back to the nurses’ station, while wiping away a wayward tear. “So you forgive me?”

“Of course, dear. I forgave you years ago. So did Jane and Ryan. The question is, Marcus, do you forgive yourself?”

“I do.”

As he hung up, Marcus realized he’d stated the truth to Wanda for the first time in six years. He did forgive himself. Another realization hit him. His new life had finally begun.

But first there were a few loose ends that needed to be tied up.

“My name’s Marcus,” he said, following the decades-old ritual, “and I’m a drug addict.”

He took a moment to examine the faces of the people who understood him, although all were strangers except for Leo, who sat in the front row. These people had come from all walks of life. Some young, some old. Male, female, it didn’t matter. Addiction didn’t discriminate.

“Until today,” he said, “I’ve mainly listened while others have shared their stories. I’ve admired you for your courage, something I’ve been lacking in for far too long.” He thought of the NA group in Edson. “I’ve selfishly listened while you’ve laid bare your souls, not once giving you the same respect. And for that I am deeply sorry.”

He bowed his head and took a deep breath. Then he lifted his eyes and stared into the faces of the bravest men and women he knew, drawing upon their strength and remembering Leo’s wise words: “Admission is good for the soul.”

“The first time I used,” Marcus began, “it was an excuse to stay alert, stay awake. I rationalized my behavior, telling myself I’d save lives. I was a paramedic. I stole drugs to feed my habit. I forged signatures on prescription pads I stole from doctors I’d worked with. I betrayed their trust—and everyone else’s—all the time telling myself I could stop any time. That it was no big deal.”

His audience was transfixed, each identifying with the rationale that all addicts turn to―excuses.

“I tried to quit after my wife and son died. I killed them, or at least that’s what I’d always thought.”

There were gasps from some of the new members.