Vicious Cycle (2 page)

Emily’s explanation hadn’t made Barbara feel better. What else had she sneaked in?

Doris, the intake counselor, seemed undaunted — she just tossed the cigarettes in the trash and kept paring Emily’s belongings down to what would fit in a small plastic bin. When she finished weeding out the things Emily couldn’t keep, Doris helped Barbara return them to her car. As she’d driven away that first day, Barbara had wept with worry over her daughter’s plight. Most eighteen-year-old girls didn’t have to give up a year of their lives to fight a battle raging inside them.

But now, a year later, Barbara knew it had all been worth it.

She wanted to tell those parents bringing their distraught daughter in today that it would be all right, that there was light at the end of their dark tunnel. That the year would fly by faster than they could imagine. That miracles happened here.

But telling them those things wouldn’t assuage their
pain. The decision to check their child into a year-long program couldn’t have been easy, and it didn’t come without guilt and feelings of failure.

Barbara and Lance got out of their car and reached the main building before the fragile family did, so she opened the door for them and offered a reassuring smile. The sound of singing came from the main room, and all three newcomers looked toward it.

“It’s the choir,” Barbara said. “They sound beautiful, don’t they?”

The girl nodded and tossed her hair back from her face, as if she wanted to look her best if any of the girls caught a glimpse of her. “I didn’t expect to hear singing,” she said.

The song ended as they walked into the foyer. Beyond the doors to the left, the girls in the main room erupted in laughter. Barbara looked for Emily and saw her sitting on the edge of a table, surrounded by friends. She looked so healthy, so well. So unlike her appearance when they’d brought her in a year ago.

Barbara smiled at the new girl’s mother. “They laugh a lot here.”

Her words, meant to reassure the grieving mother, did nothing to change her expression. To this woman, days of laughter probably seemed far into the future — maybe even a hopeless dream.

“Man, I’m gonna miss this place,” Lance said.

Barbara chuckled and glanced at her gangly son, who’d grown four inches in the last year. “Where else do you have so many adoring fans?”

He laughed and regarded the new girl. “What are you in for? Wait, don’t tell me—pills, right?”

“Lance!” Horrified, Barbara turned to the girl and her parents. “I’m so sorry.”

The girl looked down at her feet.

“Hey, no offense, okay?” Lance said. “I didn’t mean anything bad.”

Barbara touched his shoulder. “Just … don’t talk.”

He started to say something, and she put her hand over his mouth, eyes flashing. “Nothing!”

Lance shut up.

The receptionist wasn’t at her desk, so they all stood there awkwardly for a moment, no one speaking. Finally, the girl looked back at Lance. “They let guys go here?”

“No, just girls on this campus. The boys’ campus is across town. My sister’s here. I visit every Saturday. This your first time in rehab?”

Again, Barbara wanted to slap him. “Lance, that’s enough.”

“What?” he asked. “I’m just having a conversation.”

“It’s none of your business.”

The girl studied her feet again. This time her mother spoke. “It’s not her first time.”

“First time to stay for a whole year,” the girl muttered with disgust. “Last time was only a month.”

Lance had never been more chatty. “A month won’t cut it,” he said. “Takes at least a year for a brain to unfry.”

Barbara covered her face and groaned.

The girl’s cheekbones reddened, but she forced a smile. “It’s okay.”

“I’m just sayin’, it’s good here. Not like jail or anything. My sister hasn’t hated it.”

Barbara wanted to tell them that New Day had given her her daughter back when she’d almost despaired over Emily’s future. But not now—this family was probably seething over Lance’s lack of tact.

The receptionist came to her desk and slid the glass
back from the window. Smiling, she said, “Hi, are you the Beattys?”

“Yes,” the mother said.

“Good. And you’re Tammy?”

The girl nodded glumly.

“Nice to meet you. Come on back and we’ll get you started.”

As the girl’s father opened the door to the counseling hallway, Tammy turned back to Lance. “See ya.”

“Yeah, hang in there, okay? Food’s good.”

When the door closed, Barbara turned on her son. “What is wrong with you?”

“I was just trying to make her feel better.”

“By asking what drugs she’s addicted to?”

“Well, it’s not like it’s a big secret, Mom. She’s checking into rehab.”

“She’s fragile, Lance, and so is her family. You shouldn’t have interrogated her.”

“Which one of us did she say ‘see ya’ to? You or me?”

“And that tells you what?” Barbara asked.

“That she liked me. That she wasn’t ticked.”

Barbara blew out a sigh. “Just … if you see them again, please don’t ask her questions like that. And keep your comments about fried minds to yourself. Like you’re the expert, all of a sudden.”

“Hey, I went to family counseling.”

Barbara almost wished she hadn’t dragged him there with her. The cliché was true. A little knowledge could be a dangerous thing.

The receptionist returned and nodded to Barbara and Lance. “You guys can come on back too. Esther will be right in.”

Barbara thanked her and they stepped through the door.
The Beattys stood at the end of the hall, waiting to talk to Doris, the admissions counselor. Doris was tough as nails. Barbara hoped her manner didn’t make the new family feel worse, especially when they began the shakedown. The girl would be frazzled by the time she was shown to the Phase 1 orientation area where she would begin detox.

Barbara said a silent prayer that the girl would hang in there and that her parents would feel relief instead of fear on their drive home.

When they were settled in the office, Esther, Emily’s counselor, came in, holding a mug of coffee. “We’re so excited about Emily’s graduation,” she said. “It’s a huge accomplishment to stay the full year. I worry so much about the ones who don’t. We had one walk out just this week, and she was a very tough case. Broke my heart. I have a really bad feeling about her.”

“Who was it?” Lance asked.

Esther shot him a grin. “Lance, you know the confidentiality rules. I can’t talk about it. But we’re thrilled when the others see one like Emily get to the finish line. It reminds them that they can do it too.” Setting her mug down, she opened a file, pulled out several papers. “Are you ready to have her home?”

“Depends,” Lance said before Barbara could answer.

“We can’t wait to have her home,” Barbara said. “It’ll be so good to get things back to normal.”

“Barbara, we’ve talked about this in family counseling, but I have to go over it again, because it’s so important. Emily’s doing great, but you need to keep your expectations realistic. Maybe you should be looking for a new normal.”

That wasn’t what Barbara wanted to hear. “I hate that phrase. I still don’t know what that means.”

“It means that Emily’s not the same person she was
before she started using drugs. And she’s not the same person she was when she checked in here a year ago. You’re not either. So don’t expect her to settle back in as if she hasn’t been away for a year. She may have problems adjusting. And temptations.”

“I’ve been to all the counseling sessions you’ve offered me,” Barbara said, “and I’ve gone to Al-Anon and my church support group, so I think I’m prepared. I know there are going to be temptations, but she’s doing so well. It’s been a year, and she doesn’t seem to crave drugs anymore.”

“Maybe not here, because drugs aren’t available. But that could change when she gets out in the world where they’re easy to get.”

Barbara’s expression fell. “I know you’re right. I want this whole thing to be over.”

“Don’t worry, Barbara. Emily’s well equipped to fight those feelings. But she might be a little moody, and she may want freedoms you’re not willing to grant. That’s why we have the families come in before the graduation.” She folded her hands and leaned forward. “It’s important that you decide now what Emily’s rules are going to be. She’s nineteen, so you have to give her some freedom, but she understands the need to rebuild trust. The more you outline and discuss ahead of time, the fewer problems you’ll have when things come up.”

“You’re talking about curfews? Who her friends are? Things like that?”

“Curfews, yes, for a while. As for her friends, she knows she can’t step back into the circles she was in when she was using. That’s going to be a huge temptation. She may be really lonely for a while, until she makes new friends.”

“So how do I make sure those people stay out of her life?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lance said. “I’ll make sure. If she even starts to hang out with her old group — ”

“She’s starting college in January,” Barbara cut in. “She’ll make a whole new group of friends there. And she’ll be living at home for the first year or two, so we can support her and help her.”

“Good. Just remember, she may still have some addictive behaviors. When my son came home from treatment, he wanted to sleep all day and stay up all night. He was late for work almost every day. Some days he just didn’t go. He left messes all over the house and expected me to clean them up. He wasn’t using, but he fell right back into his old habits.”

“Sounds like a normal boy,” Barbara said.

Lance gave her a sarcastic smile.

“Emily’s had structure here,” Esther said. “She’s going to need it at home too. She has a schedule already—what she’ll do on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays … She really needs to have her time filled up and planned out.”

The last thing Barbara wanted to be was a warden.

“So what about her car?” Lance asked. “Wouldn’t you say it would build character in her to share it with me?”

Esther laughed. “I can’t advise you about the use of her car, Lance. Nice try, though.”

“I’m just sayin’, she hasn’t driven for a year, so maybe I could drive her around for a while. Then when I get my license, she and I can share the car — ”

“Lance,” Barbara cut in, “your permit lets you drive with a parent, grandparent, legal guardian, or instructor. Not your nineteen-year-old sister.” Why were they talking about this now? Lance had gotten them off subject. Barbara looked at her watch. She had to be at work in an hour, so she needed to move this along.

She heard chattering voices through the wall. “Sounds
like choir practice is over. Lance, why don’t you go talk to the girls for a while? I’ll finish up here.”

Lance sprang up. “Sweet. You don’t need me, do you, Miss Esther?”

Esther chuckled. “No, you go ahead.”

He went through the door, then leaned back in. “Hey, don’t talk her into giving me any more structure, okay? I have all of it I need.”

L
ance waited outside the community room until the girls came outside. As they did, he accepted their adoring hugs and hellos and followed Emily and her friends to the pond. His mom had been right—the girls loved him here, and that’s why he never missed a visiting day. But he supposed it was time for Emily to come home. She’d grown up a lot in the last year, and he was pretty sure she could cut it on the outside without going back to drugs.

“Did you hear about Jordan?” Emily asked him in a low voice as they ambled across the grass.

“No — did she have the baby?”

“We don’t know,” Emily said. “She took off in the middle of the night a few days ago.”

Lance stopped walking. “No way. You’re kidding, right?”

“Lance, don’t take it personally.”

He couldn’t help it. The crisp air whipped his hair into his eyes as he stared at the pond, trying to imagine why Jordan would do a thing like that. He should have known his fifteen-year-old classmate couldn’t keep her commitment to stay sober.

Before she’d come here, Lance and Jordan hadn’t been very good friends, since she hung out with druggies and thugs. But when he found out she was pregnant and still actively using crystal meth, he couldn’t hide his disgust. One day when she came to school clearly high, her belly beginning to show through a tight T-shirt, he confronted her.

“You know, it’s your business if you want to be a loser, but you should really think about what you’re doing to your kid.”

She squinted up at him. “What is your problem?”

“Pregnant junkies make me sick.”

She reared back and slapped him. Lance caught his breath and stepped back, pressing his hand over the burning spot on his cheek. “You’re out of control, Jordan, just like my sister was.”

“My life is none of your business.” Her tears surprised him. He’d figured she was too cold to get her feelings hurt. Feeling guilty, he leaned back against the lockers, staring at the ceiling. He shouldn’t have been so harsh. She was human and she had feelings, even if she was stupid. He forced himself to look into her blotchy face. “Look, I know where you can get help.”

“Nobody can help me.”

“Yes, they can. If my sister can change, anybody can. She was bad off.”

Jordan wiped her face on her sleeve. “I remember her.”

“But she’s different now. She went to treatment, and she’s learning how to live sober.”

“I don’t have any money,” she said. “My mom … no way she’d ever spend a cent on that.”

“You don’t need money. Churches and Christian people support the place. It’s a good place. She likes it.”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t handle all that Christian stuff.”

He saw pain in her eyes and a desperate need to break free of her chains. Maybe she really didn’t want to be like this. “Just take a step, Jordan. Do it for your baby.”

She touched her stomach, and for a moment, he thought she might listen.

She didn’t. Not then.

But a couple of months later, as her pregnancy began to show and the desperation in her eyes grew more intense, she came to him after algebra. Leaning over his desk, she said, “Can you help me get into that place?”