Worthy

TW: mental health issues, substance abuse

Nicholas plotted his exit, aware that his decision to abandon the shelter of his car could put his reputation at risk. He surveyed the parking lot, confirming his solitude at this early hour. He brushed himself off as he emerged from his car and headed toward the building. Confident he remained unseen, he had nearly made it to the entrance when Stephanie, his boss, appeared out of nowhere.

“Nicholas! What are you doing here so early?” she asked, brows arched.

“Um…I couldn’t find my charger so I figured I must have left it here yesterday. My phone is almost dead.” He hoped he sounded convincing.

“Oh geez, I’d be lost without my phone. Well, good luck finding your charger. I might have an extra if you can’t find yours.”

“Thanks Steph, I just may take you up on that. I’ll see you later today, I’ve got some ellipticals I’m coming back to service.”

Nicholas pretended to check his phone, stalling to let Stephanie enter the building before him. He was hoping she would forget she even saw him once she became immersed in the tedious details of managing a health club. He had once been a member himself before his life flipped on its head. He now worked at the club, employed part-time repairing gym equipment. He was grateful for the work even though his pride took a hit.

Twenty minutes later, Nicholas finished what he came to do and slipped out of the club, undetected.

*

Nicholas parked in the back lot, feeling embarrassment for the cluttered state of his car. He reapplied deodorant and checked his appearance in the rearview mirror, regretting his unshaven face. He grabbed his backpack and headed for class.

He tried to ignore his frustration at being stuck, taking Anatomy 101 for the second time. Less than a year ago, he was enrolled in the equivalent class at a prestigious university, well on his way to completing the prerequisites for physical therapy school. Now, he could barely afford to pay for this class at Central Community College.

Nicholas wore the unwelcome label of “non-traditional” student: a first-year college student at the age of thirty-one. A decade older than his classmates, he felt his years as they cemented his status as an outsider. The other students appeared uninterested in learning as they fell asleep during lectures or spent the entire class looking at their phones. Nicholas was far from apathetic as he saw school as the only thing holding his life together.

Until his accident, one of Nicholas’s toughest lessons had been accepting that he had a learning disability. He discovered late in life that he was dyslexic; this new self-knowledge was both soul-crushing and validating. He finally understood why he lagged in school as he still tried to hide his disability. He grew to understand that his struggles were anything but invisible. Unwilling to admit defeat, he reluctantly accepted the resources provided by the university’s disability support center. His confidence grew and he excelled in his classes.

Until everything came crashing down.

*

As often occurs in life, he didn’t see this one coming. One minute Nicholas was rushing to a construction site, the next, he awoke to the chaos of a hospital emergency room. The doctors told him he was lucky he survived the crash; he wanted that to be true. He spent that night in the hospital for observation before being patched up and sent on his way with his parting gift: a broken shoulder and a diagnosis of acquired brain injury. He was unprepared for the constant state of pain that was to become his reality. In addition to the pain, he began having difficulty remembering simple instructions or staying focused for any longer than ten minutes.

His injuries made it impossible to continue working in construction. For the first time in his life, Nicholas experienced a real sense of hopelessness. His usual tenacity disappeared and he worried this might be the beginning of a dark spiral.

When his state of discomfort became unmanageable, he dug into his dwindling savings to see a pain specialist. Rather than receiving counsel or exercises to improve his condition, he was given a prescription. This provided temporary relief, but Nicholas’s irritability and growing victim mentality made him foul company. His roommates politely requested he find alternative housing, their requests turning less civil when his angry outbursts increased. Nicholas arrived home one afternoon to find his few belongings in a box by the front door. As stunned and hurt as he was, he didn’t blame them. He couldn't stand his own company either.

Out of necessity, not due to a transformational epiphany, he stopped taking his pain medication—it was expensive. He could, however, afford the fifth of vodka that was available to him daily, without judgement, from the corner store near his house. The liquor numbed his pain and oppressive self-loathing just enough for him to realize the drinking would likely be his undoing. It was his fading dream of becoming a physical therapist that stopped Nicholas from further self-sabotage. He pulled himself together and vowed to never set foot in the corner store again.

*

Just before his car accident, Nicholas had started dating Beth. He had known her since childhood; only in the last year had their relationship become something beyond friendship. Even as a kid, he had fantasized about her. Beth was the person who always chose the high road, making her seem otherworldly and destined for better things. He considered it one of life’s miracles that she hadn’t dumped him yet. Nicholas suspected it was because she was a travel nurse, therefore not privy to his current circumstances that resulted in his hourly mood swings. She wouldn’t recognize this damaged version of Nicholas, so he shielded her, continuing with his façade of moving carefree through life.

Beth had been by his side after his car accident, literally nursing him back to health in the way that only Beth could. She was holding onto the belief that Nicholas emerged unscathed from his ordeal, despite more frequent glimpses into his dimming spirit.

Once Nicholas started drinking heavily, he pulled away from Beth. He would occasionally spend the night at her house but was careful to keep emotional distance between them. He never told her his roommates had kicked him out; nor did he tell her he got paid to repair the very gym equipment he once used daily. Now he couldn’t remember the last time he worked out. He figured if he didn’t mention his troubles, Beth would see him as the same old Nick.

*

Nicholas entered the mailbox store, dreading what he might find in his post office box. For the past six months, he dutifully made his weekly trip to Mailbox Central to sort through the unwelcome communications from his creditors.

He checked his box and gave a nod to the cashier, a woman wearing a tag that read “I’m Evelyn, Happy to Help!” Nicholas had observed her friendly banter with other customers, the kind of lighthearted small talk he used to enjoy. These days he didn’t have anything to offer that was lighthearted, or small.

She startled Nicholas by calling out to him, “Hey, how are you doing today?”

He wondered if he looked as disheveled as he felt, signaling in some way that he wasn’t okay.

“Um, pretty good. Can’t complain, just livin’ the dream.”

He wasn’t the type to bother Evelyn with his struggles. He may not have been living the dream, but he wasn’t going to let go of it.

*

Beth had asked him to come over after his shift. He had a nagging feeling that something was off, but lately, everything seemed wrong. He pushed aside his doubt and contemplated buying her flowers, quickly abandoning the idea when he remembered his bank account wouldn’t abide.

He arrived at Beth’s, his suspicion heightened when she didn’t greet him with a hug. Beth had a serious look on her face, one that bore the slightest hint of pity. She sucked in her breath and looked down at the floor, gathering her words. “Nick, I had a lot of down time during my last contract, and I did some serious thinking—you know how I get. As much as I don’t want it to be true, I’m starting to realize that we’re not at the same place in life right now.” She waited for him to respond.

Nicholas sat in a stony silence.

“I’ve always cared about you, you know that. And it has been amazing, finally getting to be with you. I think if the timing were different, we might have had a chance. Between my being away and your, I don’t know, ambivalence, it seems like you’ve been pulling away, like you’re giving up on us.”

She seemed to not believe her words, as if hoping he would prove her wrong. He offered no explanation.

She continued, “I feel like you’re always somewhere else, like you’d rather be anywhere but here, with me.” She paused, her eyes filling with tears. “I thought we were getting serious—but I don’t see you putting any effort into our relationship anymore. And I think I deserve more from you.”

She was right. At this moment, he had nothing to offer. As much as she meant to him, he knew he wasn’t what she needed. At least not now, maybe never.

He thought of all the things he could say to reassure her. The words never materialized and he resorted to mumbling, “I’m so sorry.” He felt empty, broken, needing to escape before she watched him disintegrate. With barely a goodbye, he let himself out and into the night.

*

Nicholas had learned to deal with disappointment. Now that he wasn’t drinking, he had restless energy he channeled into school, surprising himself by earning a 3.8 GPA. He met with the college counselor to update his academic plan, and for the first time, felt pride instead of shame. She commented on his grades, then asked, “Did you know you made it to the Dean’s Honor List?” He hadn’t known.

She continued with her uncomfortable praise, ignoring the fact that her words left him squirming in his seat. She told him about a scholarship she was convinced he would qualify for, provided he met the deadline that was two days away. He wasn’t sure he could endure another rejection but understood his student loans were barely enough to keep him in school.

The counselor was persuasive: “Unlike your loans, this is money you wouldn’t have to pay back! This scholarship is only offered to students who are looking to transfer. That’s still your goal, isn’t it?”

He looked down at his dirty clothes, hoping she didn’t notice their musty smell. At that moment, he realized that of course she did.

She gently continued, “I know things have been rough for you.”

He studied her face and saw kindness. Not pity.

“I think I saw you one night, Nicholas, heading into the library just before it closed.” She was giving him an out in case it wasn’t him. “I didn’t think much of it until a few weeks later when I came in early to run some reports. I was walking through the quad when I saw you coming out of the library before they were even open.”

Her words hit hard. She lifted her eyes, measuring his response. Her voice softened when she asked, “Nicholas, was that you? Have you been sleeping in the library?”

He felt raw, exposed. He managed to hear her say, “I should have tried to help, but then I thought maybe you didn’t want anyone to know.” She paused before adding, “I’m hoping those overstuffed chairs are a lot more comfortable than your car.”

He tried to summon anger to counter her blunt assessment. Instead, he felt relief. She didn’t judge him—she saw him. He could no longer deny his suffering and utter isolation. He accepted her compassion and felt his burden lift ever so slightly.

*

It was finally spring, and Nicholas was close to scraping together a deposit for a studio apartment near school. He was able to work more hours each week, showing possibility that his body might recover someday. He grudgingly used the school’s free resource center (the one the counselor told him about that day) to do his laundry, rather than continuing with his covert laundry routine at the gym. While the dryer ran, he used the shower in the adjacent locker room. He was learning to accept these offerings without seeing them as a reflection of his failure.

Today he would allow himself a small reward for his successful semester: a latte at what used to be his favorite coffee shop, the one that he and Beth frequented when they first started dating. He remembered she used to go there every day when she was in town, around 10 am. He glanced at his phone and saw that it was 10:15.

He made the short drive and had just parked when he caught a glimpse of someone walking out of the coffee shop, a woman who bore a striking resemblance to Beth. He sat rigid in his seat as realization set in that it was in fact Beth. Of course. It wasn’t an accident that he was here on this day, at this exact time. As he took in her familiar stride, he remembered what it felt like to walk next to her. It struck him how deeply he missed her, recalling the warmth of her presence. He looked at her more closely and realized that she looked quite different.

Not just different but somehow transformed. How was it possible that she would appear so unfamiliar after only a brief time apart? He tried to discern what had altered her appearance. It dawned on him when he saw her rounder cheeks and her hand absentmindedly touching her stomach. She was pregnant! And from the looks of it, at least three months along.

Nicholas continued to watch her, gobsmacked. He knew in his gut that she would never have been unfaithful to him, as being fiercely loyal was one of the traits he admired most about her. This child had to be his, theirs. He thought about how overjoyed she must be, as she had told him that even if she never found a partner, she would find a way to have a child on her own.

He respected her reasons for not telling him, even in the face of their years of friendship. He was surprised to find that he wasn’t mad or even hurt. Instead, he felt a certain peace, a renewed trust in something bigger than himself.

*

Two more months passed. Nicholas thought every day about Beth, and their baby’s development. He wondered how she was doing, especially how much longer she could continue to work as a travel nurse. He worried about her ability to support herself once she would inevitably have to stop working, at least for a while. He wasn’t expecting her to reach out, but he wished she would. If she never did, he would find a way to earn her forgiveness.

*

Another trip to Mailbox Central. Nicholas steeled himself as he faced his PO Box. He reached in and grabbed the thick stack of envelopes, certain his day was about to get worse. He planned to face his mail later in the private humiliation of his car.

As he was shoving the stack in his backpack, one of the envelopes stood out. Its return address noted “Student Access Scholarship Fund.” He remembered his counselor practically filling out the application for him once he acquiesced to her assistance.

Too impatient to speculate, he tore open the envelope. He was anticipating adding it to the shred box as he quickly scanned the words. He narrowed his eyes when he caught the word “Congratulations” and just beneath it, an amount larger than he ever expected, $10,000. Not trusting his initial interpretation, he reread the letter, shaking his head in disbelief. “Holy shit!” he said to no one.

Unable to contain his excitement, he nearly sprinted to the front door. As he passed the register, he exclaimed to Evelyn, “I really am livin’ the dream this time!” She gave him a salute.

Nicholas returned to his car, unable to believe his luck. He had allowed himself to wish for something, and somehow, whether he deserved it or not, he got what he asked for. He knew this money wasn’t necessarily life-changing, but it might finally take him out of this limbo. He hadn’t asked to be a father, but somehow, miraculously, this perfectly accidental decision had been made for him.

He started the car, now certain of his destination. He could already picture Beth looking out her kitchen window, smiling absently as she washed dishes. He hoped her smile would grow wider when she saw him pull up, this time, flowers in hand. He was ready to declare his rightful place in the world.

In that moment, it all felt possible. He thought back to the small mercies he was granted along the way, those he had been so certain he didn’t deserve. He dared to believe his luck was about to change.