Chapter 9 Three Months #6
I already knew all this, but hearing it from his own lips shocked me.
And the thought that I might have had something to do with it made it that much worse.
The thought that maybe I could have done something if, instead of deciding to leave him on his own, I had kept calling and calling until I reached him.
He might have relapsed no matter what, but shouldn’t I have tried?
I don’t know. This, too, was the past, and there was nothing I could do about it anymore.
Ashamed, Jack confessed, “I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want you to look at me as someone with problems, someone who couldn’t hold his life together.”
“Jack, we all have bad times.”
“I know, but…what if this is more than a bad time? What if this is who I am? Do you really want to be with someone like that?”
Was that what he was scared of? That if I knew the truth, I’d push him away?
That was almost laughable, but this wasn’t the moment to tell him that, so I just gave him a squeeze and repeated, “We all have bad times, and that’s part of life.
I’m not going to judge who you are because of one mistake. ”
“I haven’t made just one mistake, Jen. I’ve made lots of them.”
“Either way. It’s not like I thought you were perfect.” I smirked. “And I’m not either. I’ve made tons of mistakes. I made a mistake when I left you. But I know how to forgive. If I can forgive you for not liking barbecue pizza, I can forgive you for anything.”
Since he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, I continued: “And as far as us being together, we can talk about that later, OK? Right now, there are more important things. Like you getting better.”
“Getting better?”
“I know you don’t want to hear this, Jack, but whatever you’re taking, you need to quit.”
“It’s not that easy, Jen. I need it.”
“You’ve spent more years of your life without drugs than with them.
And that means that you can live without them.
You just need help. And you’ve got it, right here.
Everyone who lives here loves you, Jack.
Your mother loves you. Your grandmother adores you.
Even Mike cares about you. I know you guys don’t always get along, but he’ll always be there for you. ”
“Fine. But what does that mean in practical terms, Jen? What am I actually supposed to do?”
“You need professional help.”
Bitterly, he replied, “Are you serious? You want to lock me up in some kind of jail for drug addicts?”
“Rehab isn’t jail, Jack, these are specialized clinics that help people like you. You’re an addict, Jack. You need to face up to that. You’ve got to get help.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that about a thousand times.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Where’s the money supposed to come from? My mom stuck me in one of those places one time, and they cost a fortune. I’m talking fifteen thousand a month, easy.”
What the hell? I had no idea. Even if I asked my parents, my siblings, my grandmother, everyone I knew, there was no way I could scrape all that together. And I assumed Mr. Ross and Mary were done cleaning up their sons’ messes.
“There’s got to be somewhere cheaper,” I objected. “Somewhere that’s good but that’s not trying to fleece you…”
“Jen, drop it. It’s your birthday, you shouldn’t be thinking about this stuff.”
He wasn’t reprimanding me. He said it sweetly, and for a moment we just looked at each other. I wondered if he’d say something else, or where things would lead next. But soon, Mike walked in. He’d lost his jacket and tie at some point in the night, along with several buttons from his shirt.
“The party sucked,” he murmured. “What are you guys doing? Did I interrupt your long-awaited make-up kiss?”
“Very funny,” Jack grumbled.
“I guess that’s a no.”
“It’s Jen’s birthday,” Jack told him, giving him a stare that unambiguously said beat it but that Mike, for some reason, interpreted to mean, Why don’t you sit down and stay a while?
“Hey, happy birthday, sister-in-law!” he told me, lurching forward and hugging me tight. He stank like a whiskey barrel. “You’re twenty-one now, right? We should be celebrating! If you like, I can take you out partying and we can leave this boring loser behind.”
“I’m twenty. I’m afraid I’m pretty boring, too,” I told him, “so it’s probably better if I just stick around.”
“Whatever,” Mike said, shaking his head. “I want to go to bed, and you’re taking up my couch. Go find somewhere else to be cheesy.”
Jack looked like he was contemplating punching him in the face, but instead he stood and walked out. I followed him. Behind us, I heard Mike chuckle: “See, you act all tough, but you always do what I say. Thanks for giving me my couch back, brother!”
As soon as he entered the bedroom, Jack jumped under the covers and started playing with a stuffed animal I knew very well.
I thought he would tease me, but he just put Spot back on my side of the bed and patted it, inviting me in.
I hesitated before lying beside him. He turned out the lights.
I doubted I would sleep. After our conversation, I had more than enough material to spend the entire night thinking.
I took off my glasses and set them on the nightstand and rolled onto my side, not wanting to bother him.
After a few seconds, he asked, “You really think I should go to a clinic?”
He was propped on one elbow, looking at me. His expression was vulnerable, and I thought my response must really matter to him.
“Yeah, I do.”
“What if it doesn’t help?”
“Then we’ll find another solution. But at least you’ll know you tried, and we’ll be working on solving the problem instead of just waiting for it to go away.”
I wrapped my arms around him and rested my chin on his shoulder, and he did the same. We didn’t say another word for the rest of the night.