“Yes,” Barbara said. “There and back, okay?”
Emily nodded. “I’ll go shower.”
As Emily disappeared, Barbara looked up at Kent. “So … are you going or staying?”
He grinned. “I think I’ll stay another day or so. I’ll go talk to the chief about that position.”
Barbara smiled, then whispered, “I’m really glad.”
They decided that he would take Barbara to work so that he could use her car until she got off.
Thrilled at the sudden turn of events and the fact that there were no impending good-byes—at least not today—she made him a quick breakfast.
Chapter 42
Emily had struggled with sleep all night, that bitter unease in the pit of her stomach. She’d gotten up around two and watched television for a while, wishing she had someone to call. There was no one.
Her friends from high school, the ones who’d ditched her when she went from being a partyer to an addict, had snubbed her so many times that she couldn’t turn to them now. She couldn’t forget the last time she’d gone to church with her mother, on a weekend pass from New Day. She had looked forward to showing everyone there that she was clean and sober, that her hair was healthy and her skin clear, that she had life in her eyes again. But the kids she’d been in youth group with, the ones she’d learned about Christ alongside, had refused to meet her eyes and had avoided her like they didn’t know her.
So much for welcoming the Prodigal home.
She didn’t blame them, though. If they’d welcomed her and spent time with her, and it turned out she’d still been using, their own reputations would have been damaged. But she missed them. As she showered, loneliness crept in. How was she going to do this? After a year of constantly being surrounded by other girls, the silence was deafening now. What did the graduates who didn’t have family support do? Where did they go?
She wrapped a towel around her head and dressed, then went into the kitchen. Her mother was fixing her a plate of eggs and bacon. As Kent settled at the table with his own plate, her mother’s phone rang.
Barbara looked down at the caller ID. “It’s Madeline. They’re probably heading to the hospital to get the baby.” She clicked it on. “Hi, Madeline. What’s up?”
Emily waited, listening for news. Her mother’s face changed, and she closed her eyes and leaned back against the counter. “When?”
Emily said, “Mom, put it on speaker.”
Her mother pressed the speakerphone button, and Emily heard Madeline’s distraught voice. “She just took off. She told them in the nursery she’d changed her mind about the adoption. She left with some guy.”
“What?” Emily asked. “Who was the guy?”
“They didn’t know. They said she seemed nervous, but they processed the baby out. She’s gone.” Her voice broke, and they heard a quiet sob. “I guess it’s over. I’ll never get Grace now, and she could be in danger. What if something happens to that poor little baby?”
“Don’t give up,” Emily said. “Jordan’s out of her head, fiending for drugs. It’s not over.”
“I can’t keep hoping when she’s so indecisive. I don’t know what to tell Ben. He’ll be devastated.”
“We’ll pray,” Barbara said.
When her mother hung up the phone, Emily shook her head. “Mom, what should we do?”
Barbara slapped her hand on the counter. “Nothing. We can’t do a thing. We’ve done everything we know to do for her, and we’ve offered her every opportunity. But we can’t keep being jerked around, and neither should Madeline and Ben.” She dropped her phone into her purse. “Just let it be. If she wants to get in touch with us, she knows where we are.”
Kent came closer and rubbed Barbara’s back. “I’m sorry this happened, you guys. But, Emily, your mom’s right. I did this with my brother for years. I’d go to amazing lengths to get him help, to find a rehab facility that would take him, to get him there and pay the fee, and next thing I knew he was gone. Happened dozens of times before he wound up in prison.”
“But the baby. Jordan can’t take care of her. What if those people get her?”
Her mother looked so tired, and Emily saw the tears glistening in her eyes. “With Maureen in jail, they’re probably out of the picture. The whole thing has called too much attention to them. Maybe Jordan just needed some time with the baby before she gives her up. Maybe good things can still happen.”
But Emily didn’t believe it.
After her mother and Kent left, Emily went back to her room and lay on her bed, looking up at the ceiling. Tears ran down her temples as she prayed for Jordan. But her mother was right. What could Emily do for her? Chasing her down and forcing her to get help wasn’t working. Jordan had to figure this out on her own … somehow. Emily closed her eyes and prayed, until she heard Lance moving around in the kitchen. When she went looking for him, he was lying on the couch playing a video game.
He glanced up at her. “Hey. Did you sleep?”
“Not much.” She wondered if she should tell him about Jordan. He’d probably be more upset than she was.
He turned back to the television. “That guy, the one with the big nose? I have to help him get to the holy grail. But there’s this little flock of vicious birds that keeps getting in my way. You ever played this before?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Nope. It’s new, right?”
“Yeah. Just came out a couple of months ago.” He worked the controller. “I can’t quite win it.”
She pulled her feet under her. “I feel behind on a lot of things. I’d hardly even heard of Twitter when I went into New Day. Now it’s all I hear about.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t see the point in it.”
“It’s a way to stay in touch.”
“With who?”
She didn’t answer, but his question hung in the air. With who? was right. She glanced at the computer, thought of setting up a Facebook account and fishing for friends. But they wouldn’t be like real, live friends. And that could become a whole new addiction.
“So how’s Jordan? Have you talked to her today?”
Emily sighed but didn’t answer. Lance knew her too well — he turned from the video game and watched her closely. “Emily? What’s wrong?”
“Well … she did what Jordan does. She took off again.”
He dropped the controller. “No way. Not after we went into that horrible place and got her back. When did she leave?”
“This morning. And this time she took the baby.”
His mouth fell open. “We did everything for her! I went to jail for two stinkin’ days! Mom dragged her out of a crack motel. You and I went into a war zone to get her. You almost relapsed for her!”
“I know. But this isn’t about us.”
“Yes, it is. You don’t turn on your friends like that. I forgave her, but now this! She’s an idiot. Her brain is fried. Maybe there really is no hope for her.”
“Don’t say that. Of course there is.”
He got up and kicked the ottoman. “Don’t tell me she’s gonna be okay, because you know she won’t.”
“No. You’re right.”
“And that baby …” Lance looked as if he could put his fist through a wall. “She makes me sick.” He stormed from the room. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Chapter 43
Where are we going?” Jordan sat in Zeke’s back seat next to the screaming baby, patting her chest to calm her. Zeke didn’t answer. “Zeke, where are we going?”
“Shut up. I have to think.”
She’d seen him like this before, his meth head full of schemes and stunts, and rage razor sharp in his eyes. “Let’s just take her home. I think she needs to eat.”
“Shut the kid up!” he shouted.
Jordan watched out the window, trying to figure out where they were going, but the baby cried harder. She found the bag with the formula in it—there were a couple of premixed bottles in boxes. She tore into one.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” she whispered. The nipple was inverted, so she unscrewed the top and turned it right-side up. Was she doing this right? Her hands weren’t even clean. She shoved the bottle into Grace’s mouth, and the baby hushed and began to suckle. The feeling of accomplish-ment—that she could do one thing right for her child — spread through her like an IV hit of meth. Motherhood.
She wanted to take Grace out and hold her, but Zeke was driving like a maniac, skidding around corners and running stop signs. He was on a mission.
“If you’re taking her to those people, I’m going to fight you,” she said. “I won’t sign the papers.”
“These people don’t need papers.”
What? “Why not? They can’t adopt a baby without papers!”
He turned another corner, on two wheels.
“What kind of people are they?” Jordan asked, bracing herself. “What do they want with her?”
“They’re people with money,” he said. “That’s all I care about. The kid’ll be fine.”
She leaned against the back of his seat and yelled into his ear. “I’m not giving her to them! Take me home now!”
“That’s it.” He swerved off the road onto the shoulder and stopped. “Get out.”
She stared at him. “What?”
“Get out! Walk home, for all I care. I’m sick of your mouth.”
Was this her escape? She could take the baby and walk to a phone, and he wouldn’t be able to give Grace away. She opened the door next to the baby’s seat, crawled out over her, then leaned back in to unhook the child’s seat.
Zeke got out, shoved Jordan away, and kicked the back door shut. “Kid stays with me,” he said. He got in and slammed his door. The car lurched back onto the road.
“No!” Jordan ran after him. “No, come back! She’s mine! You can’t take her!”
There was no traffic in either direction, no one to see her and help her. She ran until she couldn’t see his car anymore, until she was about to collapse. Staggering to the shoulder of the road, she fell to her knees. God, please help Grace! I don’t know what to do!
Chapter 44
Emily sat alone in the den, watching the video game figures move around the screen, waiting for someone to control them. She couldn’t control herself, much less some alternative universe.
Thoughts of those crack rocks went through her mind, making her mouth dry. Her heart started pounding. If she went back to that gutter where Lance had thrown them — could she reach down the storm drain and find them?
The moment the thought crossed her mind, she snatched it back. No, she couldn’t think like this. She had to do something. She had to talk to her counselor.
She grabbed the cordless and took it into her room. It was the first time she’d actually called Esther — she had to dig around in her purse for her business card. When she found it, she punched the number.
Esther answered quickly. “Esther’s desk.”
“Esther, it’s Emily.”
“Emily! Great to hear from you. How’s it going out there?”
She wished she could tell Esther it was going great, that roses were blooming and friends were popping up, that she hadn’t even had a thought of using drugs. But she had to be straight with her. “Not that great.” She told Esther about their struggles with Jordan, the trip to Belker’s warehouse, the problems she was having.
“Girl, get thee to an AA meeting.”
She sighed. “I don’t know where they’re having any this time of day.”
“That’s no excuse,” she said. “Do you have a computer?”
“Yes.”
“Then get on it and go to AA.org. You can type in your zip code and see where all the meetings are. Some of them meet at noon.”
“I thought you didn’t like AA.”
“I like the groups that are good. They aren’t always good. Some of them are like sober nightclubs, all about hooking up with the opposite sex. But usually the ones meeting this time of day have people who are serious. You could also try the Christian version, Celebrate Recovery, but they usually only meet once a week.”
“I just don’t want my whole life to be about addiction. I don’t want my days to revolve around those meetings, and I don’t want all my friends to come from AA.”
“Emily, just take it a day at a time. You need a little strength right now.”
Emily sighed. “Okay, I’ll go to the next meeting I can find in town.”
After a pep talk, Emily hung up and went to the computer, pulled up the web site, and found a meeting that would start in thirty minutes at a church about ten miles away. She grabbed her purse.
Lance came out of his room, still looking sour. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“AA meeting.”
He looked skeptical. “I’ll go with you.”
“Lance, I’ll be fine. I don’t need you to babysit me.”
“That’s what you said yesterday.”
She hesitated. “I know. I just … You can’t spend your life carrying my problems. Play your video game. Do your homework. I have to work this out.”
“But if you work it out the wrong way, the whole family blows up again.”
“I won’t do that. I promise.”
“Are you sure? Because it would really stink if you did.”
“I’m sure. That’s why I’m going to AA. And, Lance, if I was going to use, I’d use. You couldn’t stop me.”
“I stopped you yesterday.”
“That was because, deep down, I really wanted to be stopped. But now I’m nervous and depressed and lonely. And Esther thinks the meeting will help.”
He sighed and leaned against the counter. “I could go and pretend to be an alcoholic.”
She laughed. “That would be fun. But no. I have to do this alone. And just in case there’s anyone who knows us, I don’t want your reputation ruined.”
“It’s Alcoholics Anonymous. I thought it was confidential.”
“Yeah, well. Trust me, Lance. I’m doing what I need to do to stay healthy. But I can’t take you with me.”
When he finally let her go, she drove to the small Episcopal church. Several people stood outside, smoking before going in. There were only a few cars here. She hated the small groups, where she couldn’t blend into the crowd. But, swallowing back her trepidation, she went in.
She took a seat at the back of the room and tried not to make eye contact with anyone. But she couldn’t miss the ragged guy sitting across the room, reeking of smoke, his face unshaven for days. He looked like he’d just crawled out of some alley. What was she doing here?
A guy sat down next to her and mumbled a quick hello. She answered without looking directly at him. He slid down in his seat, crossed his legs, and began doing a rapid drumbeat on his legs.
Not sober. She looked around the room as others came in. Sober. Not sober. Sober.
There were people here who could lure her back in. If someone stuffed one more rock into her pocket, she didn’t know if she could resist.
Her mouth went dry. Her heart pounded. Heat prickled her skin, and she began to sweat.
No, she couldn’t do it. She sprang to her feet and headed for the door. Rushing through the doorway, she bumped into a woman, stopping them both. “I’m sorry,” Emily said.
The woman had a frizzy halo of red hair. “Where are you going?”
“Out. Away. I don’t think this is the right meeting for me.”
“How do you know? We haven’t even started yet.”
“I just … I’m a year sober, okay?” She kept her voice low. “I’m trying to stay that way.”
“Just come back in and sit down.”
Emily shook her head. “I can’t. The smell of smoke, the look in some of their eyes … It’s just not what I need.”
The woman touched her arm and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Just got out of treatment, huh?”
How did she know? “Yeah. Just yesterday.”
“Good for you.”
“What?”
She lowered her voice. “Good for you for having some discernment. Truth is, this probably isn’t the right group for you. I come because I lead it. I work the night shift, and it’s not far from my house. A lot of these people come from the shelter down the street. They’re forced to come. They have to get a form signed saying they were here, or they can’t sleep there at night.”
Emily swallowed and glanced back in.
“I keep doing this one because these people need hope. And some of them get it. I was like them about ten years ago.”
Emily found that hard to believe. The woman, who looked about forty, was clean and nicely dressed. “Really?”
“Yeah.” She took Emily’s shoulder and walked her outside, away from the door. “Listen, I have a really great AA home group that meets at seven o’clock once a week. It meets tonight. Why don’t you come to that? I think it’s a healthier group.”
Emily shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Seriously, most of us in that group have been sober for a long time. And there are also some who are just days or weeks sober. We take them under our wings and help them. But it’s a safe group. You’d like it. You could find a good sponsor there.”
“Where is it?”
The woman gave her the address — even closer to Emily’s house than this one. “Okay, maybe.”
“What’s your name?”
“Emily.”
“I’m Jan. Nice to meet you. Hang in there, okay? It gets better.”
Emily felt better as she crossed the tall grass and got back into her car. Maybe that was the kind of meeting she needed. As she started her car, she noticed Drew, one of Belker’s dealers, approaching one of the smokers. What better place to find new customers?
Disgusted, she drove home, praying that God would help her. The last thing she wanted was to go back to drugs. Her addictions had almost gotten her killed. She didn’t want to repeat those mistakes.
Would it be this hard if all this with Jordan hadn’t happened? If Emily could have come home to a celebration and not had to think about drugs for a while?
The Jordan factor had definitely complicated things. If the girl wanted to throw her life away, Emily had to let her. She couldn’t fool herself into thinking she could save Jordan or her baby. That was codependence, an enemy to recovery.