“Where are we going?” Colter says as I drive down the street to the zoo.
Dr. Chambers thought it would be good for me to return to the zoo with people who are important to me. It’s hard to believe it’s been six months since I started therapy, and Colter’s still around. I’m so fucking lucky.
He laughs as the zebra-painted sign comes into view. “The zoo? I haven’t been here since I was like, twelve, I think?”
I pull into a parking spot and give him a peck on the cheek. “I used to take Tate here. I haven’t been back in a while.”
It feels good to say her name out loud without guilt pounding in my head. Therapy was a lot harder than I thought. Not that I thought it would be easy, but facing every nightmare I’d ever had wasn’t something I was prepared for. Now my mind is contained in little orange bottles, but Dr. Chambers says I won’t have to take pills forever, just until I can figure some stuff out.
I’ve found a way to forgive myself, or something as close to forgiveness as I can manage. I won’t forget. I can’t. But letting go of what happened made me feel like I could do anything. Be anything I want. I never thought I’d ever feel that way again.
Colter grins like he just stole something he’s not supposed to have. “You know, I’ve never made out at a zoo before,” he says, raising his eyebrows.
I smack him in the arm as we get out and walk through the zoo entrance. The sounds of the birds and the monkeys take me back to when I would take Tate. I can see her chasing the birds, trying to fly away like them. I smile, but a streak of discomfort soars through me.
I look up at the sky and breathe in and out, thinking of the positive affirmations Dr. Chambers taught me until the calm surrounds me again.
You have a good life. You can do anything.
I’m incredibly grateful that I only have to say the words in my head. Even I know how lame they would sound out loud. I do write them down, with every other thought I have, in an ugly journal with a sun on the cover.
After we’ve paid to get in, I drag Colter to the goat corral. Jackson and Janie are meeting us in a few minutes at the tiger enclosure. Atticus is coming too, with Grace. They just got back from Disney World.
I wanted to bring Colter to the goats alone. I had to see them again.
He gives me a look. “Really? The goats?”
“Yes, the goats. Tate used to love this place.”
Colter puts a quarter in the machine, turns the knob, and pellets fall into his palm. He leans over and feeds one of the goats. His smile is that of a kid, a seven-year-old boy who visited the zoo with his family. It’s crazy how certain movements, certain scenes in life bring you back to such a young age. But I see that in him, in his expression. He pets the goat on the head then laughs, wiping his hands on his jeans. He joins me and nudges my side to let me know he’s there.
The pen fills with giggling kids. I watch their trepidation as they go to pet a goat for the first time, yanking back their tiny hands and giggling that way only little kids can.
“I used to think of the goats as trapped and miserable.” I take a breath in and close my eyes for a brief moment, then open them and see the sun’s rays, the laughing children, Colter’s smile. “But now, I see how happy those kids make them. How their lives would be boring without anyone in it to scratch their ears or feed them pellets from the machine.”
“I love how philosophical you’ve gotten post-therapy. It’s sexy,” he says, moving closer to me.
I chuckle and roll my eyes. “I guess it took me a bit to realize that not everything’s a trap.”
Grabbing my hand, he pulls me into him. “I’d like to trap you behind that barn over there.”
I laugh and smack him on the chest. “Stop that. There are children here,” I say in my teacher-y tone, mocking him.
He wraps his arms around my waist, tilting his head close to my ear. “Good. I perform best in front of an audience,” he whispers, then grazes his lips under my ear, trailing sweet kisses across my jaw until he reaches my mouth and covers it with his.
I’m not sure what made me want to live again. It wasn’t a bunch of grand epiphanies or gestures; it was more like each puzzle piece of my life finally created something whole. All the torn edges and tattered corners of each moment mattered a little less. Happy Ellery didn’t exist separately anymore, because she was me. My smiles grew wider, my heart beat stronger. It all finally made sense. Life. How unpredictable and messy and beautiful it could be. I know; I can hardly believe those words are coming out of me without a hint of sarcasm (well . . . maybe a little).