Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“It’s not your fault,” one of the other patients said. She was an older lady with weary eyes but a kind smile. “I have four kids. Great kids. But by the fourth I was past the point in my life where I felt like I wanted to change diapers or chase a toddler. My third child was already sixteen. The idea of starting the eighteen-year process all over again was unimaginable. But I did it. However, I don’t blame any woman who doesn’t feel like she can. And I’m sure your mom wasn’t thinking of you when she took those pills.”
She didn’t know my mom, but I wanted to believe her.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Do you have family coming for Thanksgiving?” A guy who looked close to my dad’s age asked as I sat on a park bench in the courtyard and watched two squirrels.
“I doubt it.”
He gestured to the bench.
I nodded and scooted over to make room for him. He sat next to me and lit a cigarette.
“Can you have that here?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He took a puff and blew out the smoke. “They want me to get better, not kill myself.” He laughed.
I grinned.
“I’m Raymond,” he said, offering me the cigarette.
I shook my head. “I don’t smoke.”
He wiggled it closer to my hand. “But you could.”
I stared at it. “I have getting my ears pierced, bangs cut, and a perm on my list before smoking.” I took the cigarette. “But I bet there’s not a salon in this place.”
He laughed.
I took a puff and instantly coughed, handing the cigarette back to him.
“It’s glorious, isn’t it?” he asked.
“It’s not really.” I wrinkled my nose.
“It’ll grow on you.”
“But what does it do for me?”
“Keeps you from being hungry.”
I shrugged. “I’m not fat. Who cares? I like food. I’m an excellent cook and baker.”
“No shit?” He gazed at me.
“No shit,” I chuckled.
His lips pursed as he took another long puff.
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
Raymond twisted his lips and turned his head to blow the smoke away from me. “Seventy-two days. But who’s counting?”
“I thought this was a thirty-day program?”
“I suppose it depends on what you’re here for.”
I brought a knee to my chest and hugged it. “What are you here for?”
“You name it. I took it. There’s not much I haven’t swallowed, snorted, or shot up my veins. What about you? Wait, let me guess. I’m pretty good at this.” He angled his body toward mine, eyes narrowed. “You look like a coke girl.”
“Cocaine?” My head jutted backward. “No.” I laughed. “Supposedly alcohol, but I think I’m here as a punishment for having sex with my dad’s best friend’s younger brother.”
“How old are you?” He took another drag.
“Eighteen.”
“So how can you be punished for sex if you’re a legal adult?”
I frowned. “I live at home, and my father is the preacher of a small town.”
“What town?”
“Devil’s Head.”
“Never heard of it.”
I laughed. “No one has.”
“Ya get knocked up?”
I shook my head.
“Then what’s the problem? Premarital sex?”
“Well, yes, but mostly the ten-year age difference.”
“Pfft … that ain’t nothin’. I was with a woman who was fifteen years younger than me. Of course, I was thirty. Did a little time for statutory rape, but when I got out five years later, we got married.”
“But you’re no longer married?”
He gazed off into the distance, puffing his cigarette. “She died.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too. We had a kid together. That’s why I’m here getting my shit together because I just found out I’m going to be a grandpa in five months. It’s amazing what you’ll do for family.”
“Amen,” I said.
He looked over at me and smirked. “You’re here for your family?”
“I’m here so my mom won’t kill herself,” I mumbled.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
KIM CARNES, “I’LL BE THERE WHERE THE HEART IS”
Eve
“What brought you here?” My therapist asked in our one-on-one session. He asked me the same question every time.
Every time, I said, “My parents.”
And every time, he said, “That’s who, not what.”
“They want me to stop drinking, but really, they want me to stop sleeping with the neighbor. I’m an embarrassment.”
That led to the story about my mother swallowing a whole bottle of pills. I always thought we were making progress, but he never stopped asking me what brought me there.
This went on until the week of Thanksgiving. I had ten days before I could check out and be welcomed home.
“What brought you here?” he asked again.
I was feeling down that day. My heart ached for Kyle and Josh. I missed my sisters and Erin. It was a hard week. And I so badly wanted to check myself out and stay at the motel where I probably no longer had a job. When my parents said I couldn’t work at that motel for the rest of my life, I never imagined it would be because I’d lose my job.