Stories of Faith, Family, and Finding Purpose

The caffeine in the latte was having its way with her. Lizzy excused herself to the powder room. The temptation to open the medicine cabinet was too great. But as slowly as she’d opened it, she closed the door to study the face staring back at her—a face she no longer recognized.

What have I done to myself? she thought. Better yet, what am I doing looking in this kind man’s medicine cabinet? Only yesterday I allowed Thomas in. He was kind enough to take me here just before I froze to death, and now I’m looking for drugs again? After the horrible withdrawal I recently went through? Really? And what am I going to do to get out of this hole I’m in? As Thomas said, I need to make a plan. A tear escaped from her eye and rolled down to the corner of her mouth.

She’d fallen so far.

Lizzy straightened herself and prepared to walk back into battle. Resolute, she’d conquer this thing before someone committed her to rehabilitation—or worse, she died. She asked for another latte while at the same time admitting to Thomas she had just rummaged through his medicine cabinet. Her tears were genuine. Lizzy had finally come to the end of herself—right before she told him everything.

~

Two days after he’d shared the story of his untimely demise into the bottle, Lizzy brought him a handwritten, detailed plan of how she planned to turn her life around. Thomas was prepared. Seeing her all dressed up and looking human again made him smile, with the exception of those dirty tennis shoes with her toe sticking out of a hole. Prepared for this sight, he handed her a new pair of ballet flats with a bow on top he’d had shipped overnight. They were ECCOs, a brand he knew would save her pained feet. She laughed.
“What’s so funny,” Thomas dead-panned. “If you’re gonna dress for success, you gotta get rid of those sneakers.

She quickly pulled off the old sneakers and tossed them aside, then slid her feet into the butter-soft leather flats. As she did a strut across the room, a folded piece of paper fell out of her pocket.

“What’s that there?” Thomas asked.

Lizzy went to the kitchen table and unfolded the paper, explaining her plan for finding employment, paying rent for the guesthouse, buying groceries, and slowly starting to replace her wardrobe. She knew she was too ragged to start up her modeling career again, but figured worst-case scenario would be cleaning dishes over at the IHOP. She had a small budget designed, ready to start implementing the next day if he approved.

Deep in thought, Thomas sat there listening while rubbing his chin. Finally, he said, “This looks good, but you don’t have a means of transportation. What would you think of coming to work for me? We have some light clerical work like making copies, distributing the mail, making coffee—things like that. It wouldn’t pay much, but it’d bring in more than working at the IHOP. And you could ride back and forth with me. What do you think?” Secretly, he hoped she’d accept so he could keep an eye on her recovery.

“Well, I don’t know much about you, and nothing of your business, but you were kind enough to take me in. So if you’ll have me, yes. I’d like to start in the morning, if possible,” she replied. “I’ll work hard. I promise.” She hesitated a moment, then added, “By the way, my real name is Elizabeth. I think it’s time to reclaim that girl who wants to be found.”

Thomas smiled and said, “Elizabeth, I’m so happy to know you.” (Excerpt from Banished – a short-story found in Ordinary Exceptionalism)