Then There Was You(36)

“Yes, sir. And thank you,” I said, flopping my head back against my pillow, relieved.

Dr. Raman jotted a few quick notes into my chart and walked out the door. My inner plight was safe for the moment. No more raw, exposed, ugly secrets lying out on the table. I was safe… I hoped.

Four hours and one hot, bland, hospital meal later, I was on my way back home with Graham driving and Alexis snoozing in the back seat. Those few hours of sleep didn’t make me feel refreshed at all, and I could already feel the ache of despair squeezing into my thoughts. Back to real life. Back to my reality, also known as hell on earth.





I stepped into my office after a week of Dr. Raman’s ordered bed rest, also known as a total joke when you have a baby who never sleeps and a husband who never helps. I was blasted by the musty smell of a stale office. Hopefully with some cross ventilation of my open door and an open window would help air it out a bit. As I stepped over the threshold, I glanced down and saw a white piece of paper folded up on the floor. Someone must have slipped it under my door. I opened it to realize it was Chris’s handwriting.





The small gesture brought a smile on my face. These guys always knew how to lift my spirits. I’d missed them too. I was anxious to see them again.

The first thing on my agenda was to visit Malik. I’d been rushed to the hospital the day I’d planned to speak to him, so I knew I needed to smooth the waters with him immediately. If I knew him like I thought I did, he had been sitting in his bunk beating himself up over his little tirade in my office. Malik was a good kid; he just needed a chance to learn different ways of venting his frustration.

I walked down the hall toward cell block-A. Officer Blevins was standing guard.

“Good morning, Mrs. Honeycutt.” He smiled, surprised to see me. “Good to see you back.”

“Thanks, Barry. Glad to be back.” And that was the honest truth. Just being back at work felt like the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders. “I’m just coming to see Malik.”

“Good. He could really use a visit from you today.”

“That bad, huh?” I figured he’d been beating himself up about what he did.

“Worse than you think,” Barry shook his head with pity. Barry had a soft heart, just like I did. He knew the situations these kids came from, and it broke his heart all the same.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I nodded resolutely.

“Thanks,” he said while he held the door open for me. “I’ll get Malik from his segregation room and meet you in the conference area.”

“Great. Thanks.”

I opened the door to the conference room and found a comfortable chair to sit in while I waited.

Before long I heard Malik’s shuffling shoes as he trudged along beside of Barry. Rising to my feet, I greeted them. “Thank you Officer Blevins.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Honeycutt.” Barry winked at me and turned around, positioning himself across the room.

“Hi, Malik,” I said.

Malik stood, staring at the floor, hanging his head in what I could only imagine as shame.

“Look, Malik, I–”

“Damn, Mrs. Honeycutt,” Malik said simultaneously. His sorrowful eyes shot up. Big brown eyes full of hurt and pain stared at me. “I’m so sorry.” Once again, he lowered his head and looked at his feet, wringing his hands in front of him.

“Malik…” I walked gingerly toward him, so as not to startle him or set him off.

His face twitched with repressed emotion. The moment my hand connected with his shoulder, he let himself go, finally exhaling the breath he’d been holding.

“It’s okay, Malik. I forgive you,” I whispered.

Without hesitation, Malik folded himself around me, wrapping me up in a tight hug. Officer Blevins stepped forward to intervene, unsure if I was comfortable with Malik’s arms around me. But I held up a hand to stop him. This needed to happen.

Malik leaned his forehead against my shoulder and shook with unyielding emotion. Not crying, just heaving gasps of remorse that tumbled out of him. “I don’t know what came over me, Mrs. Honeycutt. I’m so sorry. I would never hurt you. You are like my most favorite person on the planet right now. I mean, you’re like the closest thing I have to a mom. Know what I mean?”

I patted Malik on the shoulder, allowing him this moment to embrace me. A lot of people frowned upon hugging clients, but honestly, at that moment, I didn’t give a shit. Who knew the last time Malik had been hugged—really hugged. Those tender moments had been robbed from him as a child. Malik needed this hug. He needed to know that there was goodness in this world. This hug probably meant more to him than all of our counseling sessions combined; it was just one more small step on Malik’s road to reform.