For the next hour, they stood at the door trying to coax her out. It had happened just as Trish warned. Emily had taken control of the intervention, and they were going to have a hard time getting it back.
On the other side of the door, things crashed as Emily screamed profanities, sometimes breaking into stage sobs. Barbara closed her eyes, imagining the state of Emily’s room when they finally got through that door. Drawers emptied, clothes piled high on the floor, drink cans overturned …
Barbara’s voice was hoarse from yelling, and she shivered as if she were cold. Maybe this wasn’t going to work. Maybe all the effort was wasted. An hour had ticked by, and Emily still had the upper hand.
“The drugs are like a romance for her,” Trish said in a low voice. “They’re a lover that she doesn’t want to leave.”
Lance leaned against the wall. “She’s probably in there using right now.”
“Probably, if she has some,” Trish admitted. “Does she smoke?”
Barbara’s head was beginning to hurt. “She’s not allowed to smoke at home, but I found cigarettes in her purse last night. I took them out and threw them away.”
“Good,” Trish said. “That gives me an opening.” She knocked on the door. “Emily? This is Trish.”
“Leave me alone! I don’t know you!”
“Would you like to step outside with me and have a cigarette? We can talk alone out there.”
Barbara’s stomach tightened and her jaw clenched. She had never allowed Emily to smoke in her sight, and she didn’t want to condone it now. But suddenly the door flew open.
Barbara held her breath.
Emily shot past her and out the back door. Trish got her cigarettes and followed. Barbara watched through the French doors, amazed as Trish gave Emily a cigarette. Her daughter lit up.
“Well, isn’t this fun?” Lance gave Barbara a strained smile.
She laughed, thankful for a break in the tension. At least they weren’t moving backward. “How does anybody do this for a living?” She wanted to collapse into a chair, but there was too much to do. “Pray. We’ve wasted a lot of time. I need to have them at the airport no later than two, so we need to leave here no later than one-thirty.”
Emily’s eyes were swollen, but she was talking now, and that look of defiance seemed to have melted away. Who would have thought Trish’s smoking habit would turn out to be helpful?
“You could pack now, while she’s busy.”
He was right. Barbara went to her own closet to get a suitcase, then to Emily’s room to inspect the fallout. Just as she’d suspected, Emily had trashed the place. Framed pictures of family and friends lay broken and torn on the floor. There was a hole in her closet door, and everything that had once been on her dresser lay spilling onto the carpet — perfume bottles and hair products and nail polish remover, her box of keepsakes, and the basket of barrettes and ribbons from years gone by. The only thing left on the dresser was the picture of Emily with her dad.
Barbara had done laundry yesterday and put the folded clothes on Emily’s chest of drawers. They lay in a heap now, among her dirty clothes. She sifted through the pile and found the clean ones. What would make Emily comfortable for ninety days? What was northern Georgia like in October? She’d need sweatpants, warm sweaters in case it got cold at night, T-shirts, jeans. She dug for some socks, then went through Emily’s drawer, searching for that pair of silky pajamas she’d given her last Christmas Eve.
Barbara heard the patio door open, Emily coming back in. Abandoning the suitcase, she went back to the living room.
“I’ll go on one condition,” Emily announced. “I need my cell phone and some cash.”
“I’ll give Trish some cash for your soft drinks and snacks, but I’m not giving you any.”
Emily crossed her arms. “Then I’m not going.”
It was a power struggle, as always. Barbara looked at Trish, gaining some strength from her nod. “Okay, I’ll give you ten dollars so you can buy food at the airport.”
“And the phone.”
“You can’t bring the phone,” Trish cut in. “I’m sorry, but it’s not allowed.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
Emily burst into tears, and Barbara thought it would all start up again. But finally her daughter threw up her hands. “All right, then, treat me like a prisoner. I can’t go cold turkey, I hope you know. I have to take something before I leave.”
“Go ahead,” Trish said.
Appalled, Barbara shot Trish a look.
“It’s okay,” Trish said. “She’ll be in detox for the first couple of weeks. We don’t expect them to be clean when they get there.”
Now Barbara wanted to scream. “I don’t want her high on the plane. They won’t even let her through security.”
“I won’t be high!” Emily shouted. “Don’t you get it? I can’t get a high anymore. I take more and more just to keep from feeling crummy.”
It was the first time Emily had ever admitted her addiction. To Barbara, it felt like a huge step; she had to hand it to Trish.
“I’ve run out before and tried to stop cold turkey, and I get diarrhea and sick to my stomach and horrible headaches. Do you want me hurling on the plane?”
Barbara’s heart softened. Emily had tried to stop on her own? It brought her a fragile hope, but at the same time she knew it could just be a con. Emily had known she could get help if she needed it, yet she had resisted it over and over.
“She told me what she’s been taking,” Trish cut in. “Withdrawals from some of those drugs can even cause seizures.”
“Emily, you can’t take drugs through airport security,” Barbara said. “They’ll arrest you.”
Distraught, Emily turned her wet eyes to Trish. “Do you promise me they’ll give me something when I get there? That I won’t have to vomit my guts out?”
“We have a doctor who’ll prescribe what you need to keep you comfortable through your withdrawals.”
Emily sat on the couch, pulled her feet up and hugged her knees. She looked so small. Barbara knew her daughter needed comforting, but time was running out. She stood helpless, not certain what to do next.
Lance sat next to Emily and touched her back. “Look at it as an adventure, Sis. You loved camp.”
Emily shot him a disgusted look. “It’s nothing like camp. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hey, if it’s good enough for Lindsey Lohan, it’s good enough for you.”
Barbara sat on the other side of Emily and pulled her into a hug. Emily fell against her. Stroking her tangled hair, Barbara said, “You need to do this for yourself, honey. You need to get your life back on track and be the girl who could do or be anything she wanted.”
Emily pulled away from Barbara then and sat stiffly, drawing in a long, deep breath. “All right, I’ll go. What choice do I have?”
Warm, sweet relief washed through Barbara’s heart, renewing her hope. “Okay, let’s get you packed.”
four
The ride to the airport was tense. Emily sat in the front passenger seat, crying, defiantly smoking out the window.
Lance sat rigid in the backseat next to Trish, as if his slightest move would frighten his sister into jumping out of the moving car.
“Will I be able to call my friends?” Emily asked.
Barbara glanced in the rearview mirror at Trish.
“You’ll be allowed to make a ten-minute call once a week for the first two weeks,” Trish said. “After that, you’ll earn more privileges.”
“Sounds like jail.”
“It’s nothing at all like jail.”
“Do I have to share a room?”
“With one person.”
“Is she my age?”
“Within a couple of years, if they put you with the girl I’m thinking of.”
“Is she nice?”
The question caught Barbara by the heart.
“She’s cool,” Trish said. “You’ll like her.”
>
“What’s her background? With drugs, I mean.”
Trish hesitated. “I’m not allowed to discuss that. Confidentiality and all.”
Barbara glanced over as Emily took a drag of her cigarette, staring out the window. Was she nervous about meeting new people, this child who slept in crack houses?
When they reached the airport, Barbara pulled into short-term parking and found an empty space near the front of the garage.
Emily put out her cigarette and lit up another as Barbara got her suitcase and carry-on out of the trunk. Lance took the bag, and Barbara rolled the suitcase. Trish carried her own bag.
Emily walked along detached from the group, refusing to help.
“We need to hurry, Emily,” Barbara said. “There’s no telling how long the line is at security. And you have to get your boarding pass.”
Emily walked in front of Barbara, her too-long jeans dragging the concrete, the dirty hem frayed and rolled. She had a peace sign bleached on the hip. She still wore the black Third Eye Blind T-shirt she had slept in. It made her skin look pallid and gray.
“Put the cigarette out, Emily. You can’t take it in.”
Emily located an ashtray over a trash can, and stubbed her cigarette out.
They went inside and found the Delta counter, got the boarding passes, and checked Emily’s bag. Lance took Emily’s carry-on to security. Thankfully, the line was short.
Barbara reached out to hug her daughter. “It’s going to be fine, honey. You’ll get well, and come back as good as new.”
“Three months is a freakin’ eternity.”
She took Emily’s face in her hands. “It’ll pass before you know it. Work hard, okay? I’ll be praying for you. And we’ll come and visit as soon as you’re allowed to have us.”
Emily turned to Lance and took her bag, gave him a hug. She held her brother a moment longer than she needed to. Finally, she kissed his cheek and let him go.
Barbara thanked Trish, who winked at her. Then she and Lance stood back and watched as the two sailed through security without a search. Emily didn’t look back. As they disappeared from view, Barbara stood frozen, her throat tight. For a moment, she thought she would be sick.
“We better get out of here before she comes running back,” Lance whispered.
Gathering herself, Barbara followed him out.
“You okay, Mom?”
She touched her chest. “Yeah, just a little light-headed.”
“You’re breathing like Grandma.”
“I can’t believe she went. I’m still shaking.” They reached the car and got in.
“Let’s go park in front of the runway and watch until her plane leaves.”
“Okay.” She started the car.
“And if she calls from Trish’s phone, you can’t wimp out, Mom.”
“I won’t answer.” She drove to the parking lot that faced the airfield. A Continental flight was taxiing up the runway.
They sat quietly in the car until they saw a Delta plane heading out onto the runway. Hoping that was her daughter’s flight, Barbara whispered a prayer for Emily’s safety.
As the plane vanished into the clouds, so did her heaviness. Her nightmare was almost over.
five
Instead of going home to tackle the mess Emily had left in her room, Barbara dropped Lance off at a friend’s house and went to her office to work for a while, hoping Emily’s departure would restore her creative energy.
It had been months — maybe years — since Barbara had felt creative. She’d learned to fake it well, to do her work as though she still had passion. Clients raved about her interior designs in their homes and businesses, but it took longer and longer to pull off those successes, which meant it took longer and longer to get paid.
Now business was slow and things were tight. If she wasn’t able to win some new jobs soon, she would have to lay off her assistant, and she’d lose her construction crew. It had taken her years to develop trust and respect with the subcontractors who executed her designs — knocking down walls, restructuring floor plans, building and painting and installing flooring …
Their loyalty to her enabled her to get tough design projects completed in a shorter amount of time. She could call her trusty crew and have them at work within a matter of days, instead of waiting weeks for unreliable contractors. But when business was slow, her crew had no choice but to contract other jobs. The threat of losing them for good always hung over her.
The opportunity to renovate the governor’s mansion had come just in time. It was exactly what she needed to breathe new life into her design studio. It would keep her and her crew busy for months, and net her enough to pay off the debts she’d accrued trying to save Emily. She had the skill and talent, but doubts had plagued her. Could she accomplish such a job with Emily’s problems distracting her?
She had hope now. If Emily didn’t run away or get thrown out, she would be at Road Back for three months — long enough for Barbara to get started on a knock-dead design for the governor and his wife. If Emily returned home whole, Barbara could give her business the attention it needed to survive, and even thrive.
The presentation was only days away. The mansion hadn’t been updated in fifty years, and Barbara was honored to be among the designers being considered. In fact, she’d heard from her friend who worked for the governor’s wife that she was the favorite, going in. Barbara had decorated the home of the first lady’s sister, so Mrs. Pearson had seen her work. If she got the bid, it would become her masterpiece and a huge draw for other clients who had money and prestige. It was what Barbara had worked her entire career for, and was probably the only thing that could pull her finances out of the tank.
Her big presentation was a week from Friday, and she had a ton of work to do to get ready. She had found dozens of choices of fabrics for each room and had completed the plans for the parlor, the living room, and the opulent dining room. With that base, she now had to find the new furnishings and accessories for fifteen other rooms, and display them in a compelling way on her design board. Getting ready would take every waking moment between now and the presentation.
She was just deciding on the style of window covering for the master bedroom when her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID. It was Trish’s number. They must be in Atlanta.
She clicked it on. “Hello?”
“Mom, we just landed.” Emily sounded stopped up, as if she’d cried the whole trip.
“Hi, sweetie. How was the flight?”
“Okay. I didn’t even have time to shower. I look awful.”
“Where’s Trish?”
“Right here.”
“Did she sit by you on the plane?”
“No, they didn’t give us seats together.”
Barbara closed her eyes. Didn’t Trish know better than to leave Emily unsupervised?
“Mom, please let me come home. I can quit without rehab,” Emily said. “I know what to do. I just have to do it.”
Barbara heard an announcement in the background, the voices of a crowd. She was glad she wasn’t there. “You’re not coming home, Emily. You want a future, don’t you? I’ve tried for years to get you clean, and you’re still using.”
“Don’t you understand? I’m scared!”
Barbara’s defenses lowered a notch. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Let me talk to Trish.”
She heard Emily sniffling and whispering, then Trish took the phone. “Barbara, she’ll be fine. We’re going to get our bags, and we’ll be at Road Back in a couple of hours.”
“She took something on the flight,” Barbara said. “She sounds slurred.”
“Don’t worry about it. She’s fine.”
“You can’t search her or something? Make sure she doesn’t overdose because she’s so upset?”
“We’ll do a thorough shakedown once we get there. Everything’s going according to plan.”
Barbara sighed. Why had she chosen this woman? On the phone, she’d seemed completel
y anti-drugs. If Barbara had known Trish would shrug off Emily’s use of drugs on the plane, she’d have found someone else. “Have her call me when you get to the center, okay? I’m really nervous about all this.”
“Will do. Just relax. She’ll be fine.”
As Trish hung up, Barbara looked down at her phone. If this didn’t work, what would? Covering her face with her hands, she prayed that God would lift Emily’s misery and give her daughter a more positive outlook about her future. She tried to put herself in Emily’s shoes. Was Trish right? Was Emily grieving a lover, plotting ways to save her romance with drugs? How could she romanticize something that would inflict a slow death? In no other circumstance would anyone cling to their murderer.
It was insanity, a self-inflicted sickness. Emily had summoned it, fed it, bowed to it, and now she was the only one who could turn away from it. Barbara couldn’t do it for her.
She prayed that God would give Emily the strength and clarity to do just that. It would take his miracle to heal her now.
six
Barbara worked in blissful silence for the next two hours, until Lance called to tell her his friend’s dad was bringing him home. Finally, she left her office and stopped by the grocery store to pick up a few things. As she went through the checkout, she glanced at her watch. Emily and Trish should have already made it to the center. Why hadn’t they called her?
She tried calling Trish’s cell phone, but got voicemail. Maybe they were out of range. Surely they’d call when they got to a landline.
When she got home, she found Lance playing a video game. “Heard from Emily?” he asked.
“I talked to her when they got to Atlanta. Nothing since.”
“Good sign, I hope.”
Barbara hoped so too. She picked up the phone and dialed Trish’s number again. It rang four times, then voicemail came on. Trish’s greeting sounded upbeat and lyrical. “Hi, this is Trish. I’m totally bummed about missing your call. Okay, not really, because I don’t know you called yet, but when I find out I’m sure I’ll be devastated. So leave a message so I can make things right. Talk atcha soon. Bye!”