Knee Pads

28 | re-engage

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT | RE-ENGAGE

a skater positioning herself in front of an opponent who has already passed her.

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          Everyone in Doctor Nguyen's office—except her, for obvious reasons—did a double take.

          Jordan had been in treatment for six months, all of which had made him better and discover and understand new aspects of himself, but they had also allowed him to recognize toxic patterns in our family dynamics—some of which I was involved in, some of which were entirely my fault. I could tell he was doing better than he'd ever been, as a few months ago he would have never dared to stand up for himself like he'd just done, but, somehow, I was still apprehensive.

          Maybe it was my pessimism speaking louder than anything else, but I wasn't sure discharging him now was the best course of action. Every time he'd gone home for a few days had turned out okay, even Christmas, when everything could have gone terribly wrong thanks to Coach's refusal to follow my rules, so, in theory, this would be nothing more than a prolonged stay at home.

          I was slowly but surely getting my brother back. I shouldn't be feeling this shitty over it.

          I found myself stuck in the awkward limbo between pride and worry following the argument between him and my parents. These arguments shouldn't be celebrated, especially when all four of us were in therapy together and it wasn't something centralized on Jordan, and it just made the past six months feel so useless, like we hadn't learned a thing. Disagreements were normal, sure, but probably not to such an extent, and we needed to ensure Jordan would have a safe, stable environment to come home to if we wanted him to continue being on the road to a full recovery.

         If this were a preview of what was to come once he came home, I'd rather have him stay here. He couldn't stay at the clinic forever—nor would he ever want to—but this decision seemed so rushed, so sudden to me I wasn't entirely sure why I saw things that way. It could either be a correct, objective way of thinking, or it could be entirely biased and self-centered.

          What if things were fine now, but what if they came crashing down like an avalanche once he went home? As selfish a thought as it was, I didn't want to spend my days terrified I'd have a bottle thrown at me again.

          "Naturally, this wouldn't be an immediate discharge," Doctor Nguyen continued, most likely sensing everyone's discomfort. Her empathy and ability to read a room were two of the qualities I appreciated the most about her, though part of it had to come from her training and years as a therapist, but I comforted myself by assuring my skeptical brain that some of it was organic and couldn't be taught or faked. "Even if Jordan were to be discharged from our inpatient program, he would still be a part of the outpatient program so his treatment can continue. This includes individual, family, and group therapy. We're not dropping him the second he walks out of the front door."

          Though those hadn't been my first concerns, they were ones I hadn't even realized I had. Knowing Jordan would still have a support system at the clinic, especially with Doctor Nguyen being so closely involved, brought me great relief, as it would provide him with a safety net we wouldn't be able to give him while being busy with our personal lives.

          Instinctively, I reached out for his hand, gave his fingers a gentle squeeze, and silently appreciated how this was the warmest he'd been in years. Regardless of how this gesture would be seen by everyone else in the room, it was a quick, heartfelt reminder this was my brother—my real brother, not the shell of one that had taken his place.