Chapter 14: Ernie

It had been six months since Carrie took that first step towards sobriety. It felt like a lifetime ago that our home was filled with the constant dread and uncertainty that came with her addiction.

That particular day, we were sitting on the porch, watching the sunset. Carrie turned to me with a look of pure gratitude in her eyes. She said, “I never thought I’d see a day where I could truly appreciate something as simple as a beautiful sunset without wanting to drown my sorrows.”

“You’ve come really far in your recovery,” I said.

It wasn’t always easy, there were still challenges, but seeing Carrie thriving and building a life she loved was the greatest reward. Every day was a gift, and I was cherishing every moment of this new chapter.

“Let’s go camping for the weekend,” I told Carrie, remembering our adventures.

A spark ignited in her eyes. “What a great idea! We used to do that all the time when we were dating.”

We called a camping area we used all along our dating years.

The owners, Lee and Michelle Walker, used to be good friends of ours. They were originally from Portland, but moved to Washington to pursue their dream of managing a campground. I always admired their courage in leaving their old life behind and taking a chance on a new and risky venture.

Saturday morning, we drove to the Olympic Peninsula; we passed the stone columns with the sign overhead and parked the car by the office. As soon as I turned off the engine, Michelle rushed to us, waving.

“Ernie! Carrie! It’s so great to see you again! We missed you, guys. Where have you been all these years?”

She pulled both of us into a tight hug.

“When Ernie called me and asked me if we could book your old spot, I couldn’t believe it. Lee worked his magic and managed to rearrange our other bookings for you,” Michelle informed us.

“I appreciate that,” I said, smiling. “I told him to give us whatever was available. I didn’t want to be a bother.”

“You are never a bother. We are happy to do it,” Michelle added, affectionately. “I’m so happy you are here. We have a lot of years to catch up on.”

“We do, indeed,” I agreed.

“Your usual spot is waiting for you. I’ll take you there with the golf cart. Lee will bring you back in the evening to register and have a drink,” she said, talking nonstop.

Carrie winced at her last words. Her reaction was not lost on Michelle. She eyed Carrie with curiosity, but said nothing. We all sat inside the cart and Michelle drove forward.

Our old camping spot was on the end of the campground, surrounded by cedars, pines, and evergreens. We had a lovely view of the river.

“Did you see that?” Carrie pointed at the ripples. “A fish just jumped!”

“You’ll see a lot of them. I got my fishing gear. Maybe, we’ll catch some.”

My wife seemed like a kid opening a birthday present.

Once the tent was ready, we sat down and contemplated the running waters. The murmur of the stream on the rocks was soothing.

Carrie sat on my lap and snuggled into my arms. “This was a great idea, Ernie. Thank you. I love it here. It’s so beautiful, so peaceful.”

“It is,” I said, taking a deep breath. “The trees, the weeds, the smells, the sounds ... I missed this.”

Two ducks flew in front of us, landing feet first in the lake with water spraying behind them.

“I have no idea why we stopped doing this,” I said, without thinking.

“Life got in the way. And my drinking, of course.” Carrie gave me a sheepish look.

“I didn’t mean anything by that, Carrie—” I began to say, but my wife interrupted me.

“I know, Ernie. It would be hard to find a man with a bigger heart than you have. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“We are here now, and we were given a second chance. That’s all it matters.”

“This place ... it’s much nicer being sober,” my wife said, and laughed a nervous laugh. I joined her.

“Are you nervous about dinner with Lee and Michelle?”

“Yes, I know it’s silly, but I am a bit nervous,” Carrie admitted, biting her lower lip.

“I will keep you safe,” I vowed.

“Thank you.”

“See over there?” I stretched my arm to the left. “That tree line?”

She nodded.

“About three miles west of them, if you drive on old Ranger Road, there’s a field with a broken fence. Granddad used to take me there. We’d hike about a mile north through the farm field into a forest. A trickle of a river runs through the woods, and beyond is a large meadow surrounded by great towering trees.

“Anyway, Granddad said he always went there for clarity. He felt closest to God there. If he was unsure about something, he’d camp a night or two, until he figured it out.”

“I never got to know your grandfather. He sounds like a very spiritual person.”

“He passed before we met. And yes, he was,” I said.

“They talk a lot about God at A.A., you know. I am still struggling with Step Two: ‘Believe in a power greater than yourself.’ It was my father who was good pals with God and he was a terrible father.”

“You don’t talk much about him. I never wanted to ask you about your family.”

“Well, my family, and especially my father, is a complicated subject and the root of most of my problems.”

“You don’t have to talk about him, if you don’t want to.”

Carrie smiled at me. “Thank you. I’m afraid talking about my father might ruin our weekend.” Her heartbeat sped, and her breathing grew choppy.

I decided to drop the subject. “I found myself praying, lately.”

“When my drinking started getting out of control, I stopped praying, too. I was surprised God hadn’t shot lightning bolts at me.”

We both laughed at that.

“Seriously, the God I grew up with was a God of wrath and punishment, whom I would never be good enough for. He only loved me when I did the things he wanted. And He was never satisfied with me no matter how hard I tried.”

“Are we still talking about God?” I asked my wife.

She bit her lip. “Well, He looked a lot like my father,” she admitted. “Cruel, demanding, and unforgiving. Tell me one thing, did we stop going to church because you didn’t want me to embarrass you?”

Carrie’s words were close to the mark, but telling her the truth wasn’t going to do her any good. “I had my reasons to stop going to church. There was so much gossip going on and there were so many hurtful things being said between members.” I squeezed her hard and kissed the top of her head. “Carrie, you must stop dwelling in the past. You are not that person anymore.”

“I know ... I know ... It’s just—” emotion chocked her throat. “I would give anything to turn back the clock.”

I nodded. “I understand. What does your therapist say about that?”

“He says that it is normal to feel these emotions, but self-pity stands in the way of my progress, and it can be pretty destructive. He says that I must forgive myself.”

“Sounds like a wise guy.”

“That he is. Weird, but wise.”

Lee appeared driving his golf cart a quarter to six. He had sent me a text warning us that he was on his way to fetch us.