Thursday, November 12, 2009

Smoke & Mirrors: Chapter 12

Morgan stood outside the door of Grand Central, hesitating nervously. She knew that Monday Madness started at the same time every night, but found herself at the apartment early. She wondered if the other girls would mind her showing up before they expected her. It was only a few minutes, but still.

Leaving rehab had scared her shitless, honestly, and moving into the sober house wasn’t really something Morgan wanted to do, but she knew it was what she needed. Because she needed to give herself the best chance to stay clean and sober. She was willing to do whatever it took, and was still in intensive counseling to deal with November.

She didn’t have a card to get in the building, since she had gone straight from the boys’ apartment to the hospital, and straight from there to rehab. There had been no trips home for her. This would be the first. She was too nervous to call up like a guest, so she motioned someone inside to grab the door.

Now, though, she was kind of stuck. She had stood in the hall for several minutes, debating whether to knock, or not. She didn’t know what she planned on doing if she didn’t knock. Driving around would surely lead to trouble, and she didn’t want to just drop in on anybody else.

Finally, Morgan prayed, and decided to take the risk. She was different now. She was healing. So, Morgan raised the brass door-knocker, letting it fall against the wood. That was her own personal signal. Maybe someone inside would remember and be excited to let her in.

--

Cary had just taken off his coat when the he heard someone outside let the door-knocker fall against the door. It made him jump, he couldn’t imagine the rest of his friends, who had lived through more than their share of terrible things involving loud noises. He had been here a while, but it was chilly outside. Plus, why would he want to take off his amazing leather jacket if he didn’t have to?

Absently, he reached over and pulled the door open. Jess had told him to make himself at home, and Cary planned to. But he wasn’t prepared to be face-to-face with Morgan.

She looked striking in her plain jeans, and bright yellow tee shirt, and colorful scarf. Her hair was half-up in a ponytail, and she wore beautiful subtle make-up. Her eyes were a deep warm brown that was instantly drawn to, despite happily dating, and happily gay. He had never asked outright, but was pretty sure she had to have some Hawaiian in her or something, because though she looked somewhat Asian, she looked like some kind of special blend of ethnicities. He found her completely amazing to look at, especially without the haze of alcohol and drugs clouding her mind.

Morgan blinked, as a vaguely familiar guy pulled open the door. He had extremely blue eyes, and black hair that stuck up in the back and was longer at one side of his face. He wore more eye make up than Morgan did, and wore it really well. He had on tight blue jeans with some kind of spider web design by the pocket with a red jewel in the center, and a red tee shirt with some singer on the front that Morgan couldn’t place.

She searched her shoddy memory for a name, or at least a reference point, but came up with nothing. What was he doing at Grand Central? She knew she was at the right place because Jess still kept her red bike in the hall, despite not having ridden it for several months. There was Christian’s little skateboard in the hallway.

“Hi, I’m Morgan,” she finally introduced, extending a hand.

“Cary,” he returned easily, grasping her hand, as she made her way inside.

Recognition suddenly broke over her face. “You’re Nathaniel’s boyfriend. Okay. I knew I knew you from somewhere. You brought me in, too, right? With Jon and Nate?” he nodded and she couldn’t wait for a response. She moved alongside him and gave his shoulders a squeeze.

“Mahalo,” she said softly, seriously.

“You are Hawaiian,” Cary said, grinning. “I was trying to figure it out before. Sorry. I know staring is kind of creepy.”

Morgan shrugged. “Yeah, Hawaiian some other stuff. I’m kind of a mutt,” she admitted.

“Hey, Cary? Who was at the door?” Jess asked, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she made her way into the front hall. She stopped short, steadying herself on the wall, at the sight of Morgan, unwinding a blue, green and yellow scarf from her neck, as if she had never left.

Tears sprung to Jess’s eyes as she stared, speechless. She had known Morgan would be here, of course. That was the whole point of this really special edition of Monday Madness. They hadn’t really had one in a long time, and definitely not since Morgan left. It wasn’t the same without everyone there to enjoy it. She had expected to hear about Morgan’s arrival by phone call, though. To walk out and see the girl in her living room was such a shock, Jess nearly fell over.

Morgan was the first to move, walking toward Jess with her arms open. God, she had missed her friends. But Jess, she had missed a little deeper. In fact, Jess’s was the only voice she could remember from during her days post-attempt, in the psych ward. Whenever she thought about doing something underhanded, she heard Jess telling her to stop manipulating people. She heard Jess telling Morgan that she loved her.

Gently, Morgan wrapped her arms around her friend, breathing in the familiar scent of Jess’s lemon and honey shampoo and subtle notes of a perfume that Morgan knew for a fact was called Love. Morgan thought it suited her friend well.

Neither one spoke. They just held onto each other, until everyone else started filtering out, wondering where Jess had gone.

Libby was helping make the spaghetti, wearing this totally cool white chef jacket and hat that Bryan had worn over. He thought it would be funny. But instantly traded Libby for the floral apron she wore, when she expressed an interest in his chef attire.

Making Jess’s spaghetti wasn’t as simple as just cracking open a jar of Ragu and dumping it in a pan, and boiling some water for noodles. She added actual tomatoes, and other real vegetables that would have made Libby grimace if she didn’t already know that the recipe was delicious.

Jess had disappeared a few minutes before, and Libby needed to know when the hamburger was brown enough. She was paranoid about giving them all E. Coli or some weird parasite. The meat would seem like it was cooked, and then Libby would stir it, and see a pink spot. It was so stressful, Libby finally gave up and went to get Jess to ask her to take over. She may have struggled with some things, but Jess definitely knew the difference between pink and brown.

To see her standing in the living room, hugging Morgan and both of them crying, was more than a little surprising. But Libby made her way over and joined right in, wrapping her arms around both of them.

Slowly, Legend and Emily walked over, too, while all the guys and Christian stood back and waited their turn.

It sure wasn’t the loud and boisterous return they expected of Morgan. As much as Emily was known for making an entrance, Morgan could give her a run for her money. She was loud and fun and filled a room. This new quiet suited her, though, and as soon as all the other girls got done hugging each other, the men stepped up to have their turns.

Morgan quickly scanned the room, searching for Liam, breathing a sigh of relief when she didn’t see him. She quickly focused on Jonathan, who was standing in front of her, his hands tucked in his pockets. He was wearing that dumb brown hat, that he seemed to think helped him blend in, but just made him look a little silly. But because it was Jon, Morgan couldn’t bring herself to tell him. She let out a sigh of relief as he came around alongside her and slid an arm around her shoulders.

Jon was a happy guy tonight. He was wearing his Madness pants. Jeans that stretched were vitally important, especially if he were going to eat major amounts of Jess’s spaghetti. He also wore a brown shirt, so no one would be able to tell if he happened to spill, and to match his hat.

But he was a little nervous. True, he had been waiting for this night. They all had. But he hadn’t seen Morgan since Family Week. She definitely looked better, even more so than she had a couple weeks ago.

Jon had also learned to wait for Morgan to give him some kind of permission before giving her a hug. This time, it was a nod, and he waited an extra second afterward, just to be sure she was cool with it.

The rest, even Christian, followed suit. They came around the side of Morgan and squeezed her shoulders. Christian came up beside her, and wrapped his arms around her knees.

“Come here, you,” Morgan laughed, scooping him up. “I missed you! How are you doing?”

“Good!” Christian said, very excited. “Are you all better now?”

Morgan bit her lip. This would be hard - a test of how much she was really learning. “I’m getting better. I’m not all the way better, though.”

“So, you’re still sick?” he asked, hands on either side of her face, looking at her sadly.

Morgan cleared her throat and nodded. “Yep, I’ll always have a little sickness in me the rest of my life.”

Christian just stared into her eyes until he couldn’t anymore. Then, he just wrapped his arms around her neck and rested his head on her shoulder.

--

It was another hour or so before dinner was ready. Morgan had fallen back in easily with the girls and the rest of her friends. As the guys fell in, setting the table, she helped with dinner, and danced around the kitchen when Emily put on the oldies station.

Build Me Up, Buttercup was such a fun song, and she could never resist singing it and doing little dance moves, and, of course, recruiting the other girls to sing back-up for her. It was the best. Especially with Libby wearing Bryan’s ridiculous chef’s outfit, and Christian shimmying up and down, holding Jess’s hands. It looked like he was doing the Twist, and Morgan had no idea how a five-year-old would even know what that was. But Christian knew a lot of things that other kids his age didn’t.

Finally, the food was ready, and they were just sitting down to eat, when there was a knock at the door.

--

Liam hated being late. He prided himself on being a man of his word, and punctual and all of that, but Morgan was home. And that meant he needed to make a special stop to pick up some red roses. He wanted Morgan to know that his love for her was still in bloom.

He had been so good, and hadn’t contacted her at all, except when she was in the hospital. It had been a difficult six weeks for him. This had been the longest Liam had gone without speaking to Morgan since they first met. So, of course, he wanted the moment he saw her again to be special. He had waited in line at several flower shops looking for just the right tropical arrangement, before settling on red roses. He had shelled out sixty dollars for them, too. He wanted Morgan to have as many as he could afford.

Because his arms were full of flowers, he had gotten let in by somebody gracious enough to hold the door. And at the door to Grand Central, Liam tried the knob and found it open. He knew everyone would be eating by now anyway, and let himself inside.

He could hear Morgan’s laughter carrying into the hall from the kitchen. Just the sound of it made Liam’s heart skip a beat in anticipation. He kicked his shoes off by the door and made his way into the kitchen, putting a finger to his lips as he sneaked up behind Morgan.

--

“So, anyway, I was trying to make some awesome cookies to bring tonight,” Jon was saying, “and I guess I must have left out something important. Because they came out totally flat,” Jon laughed good-naturedly, spinning noodles around on his fork.

“See? This is why Jon needs to stay out of the kitchen…” Cary remarked, sending Nate a knowing look, and a smile.

“Just do yourself a favor and don’t try to do dessert anymore, okay? Nate nodded. “You can be our breakfast-maker. We’ll come over here for dessert.”

“What kind were they?” Christian asked obnoxiously, sliding his yucky garlic bread onto Coby‘s plate and hoping nobody noticed. “Jon! Hey, Jon! What kind were they?”

“Oh, my God…” Morgan laughed in the split second before she felt herself being grabbed from behind.

--

Morgan’s breath caught in her throat and she put her hands up defensively, ignoring her fork clattering onto her plate. Even though she knew it was irrational because no one else at the table was panicking, Morgan found that she couldn’t help it. An arm was around her shoulders and close to her neck, like someone meant to drag her away. Seconds ticked by that felt like hours. Finally, she got to her feet, startled when he put a huge bouquet of roses in her arms.

“Hey..” Liam whispered in her ear. “I missed you.” He opened his arms to take her into a hug and would have gone in for a kiss, had Morgan not acted totally weird and ducked out of his arms, motioning him to the other room with her head.

He heard voices at their backs. Emily asking what kind of welcome that was and Coby swearing mildly.

Once they were alone, he tried for the kiss again, but she still held him off with a hand.

Morgan’s heart tripped in her chest and she backed up a couple steps. Anxiety rose in her chest, as well as a twisted bit of desire. When he kissed her it wasn’t like what was done to her before. It felt good. But Morgan set her jaw. The last thing she needed was to undo all of her hard work by letting Liam do whatever he wanted.

Liam blinked, confused. “What? We have privacy now. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Morgan nodded, still willing her heart to slow down. “I did want to be alone with you,” she admitted quietly. “You’re just wrong about why.”

Liam cocked his head. What other reason could there be? “What are you talking about?”

“I need to concentrate on myself right now. I can’t be in a relationship, and especially not one as unhealthy as ours.”

Morgan did the best she could to focus on the conversation at hand, and not her anxiety, growing and the little voice in her head. It was telling her there were pills just in the next room that would be enough to kill all her emotion, especially the ones she was feeling now. Her hands shook, and she crossed her arms to hide it.

“Morgan, we love each other!” Liam exclaimed. He reached out with the hand that wasn’t encumbered by the massive amount of flowers he had brought to hold onto her arm. “That’s not unhealthy!”

“Let go of me,” she ground out, eyes flashing dangerously. She stepped back again, daring him to mess with her.

“You’re breaking up with me,” Liam stated, shaking his head as if the thought had just occurred to him.

“Yes,” Morgan nodded firmly.

“But I bought you roses!” he objected, hurt. “Why did I spend sixty dollars on someone who doesn’t even appreciate all the things I do for her?”

“I don’t know,” Morgan told him quietly, to mask the apprehension that was clawing its way up the inside of her chest. “That’s up to you to figure out.”

“Well, I can’t very well go in there and eat with everybody like everything between us is normal,” he hissed. “This is a hell of a position you put me in, you know?”

“It’s not my fault that you’re embarrassed,” she maintained, hoping to God that no one heard this ridiculous fight.

“No. It’s your fault that you screwed everything up between us!” he snapped angrily, still cradling the flowers as he paced. “You lost me, okay? So, don’t you dare make this sound like it was something I did. If you could just have talked to me, or better yet to a counselor like I suggested, instead of turning to pills and drinking like some addict, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I was going to propose to you. We were going to have a life. But I guess that’s gone now,” he huffed, tossing the flowers at her feet.

Morgan cringed as they landed softly, leaves rustling. She blinked back tears, knowing he was full of shit. Mostly. But there was a part of her that wished that she had just done what he wanted. When he walked out the door and pulled it closed behind him, with so much control, she wished he had slammed it.

Bending down, she picked up the flowers, intending to cut the stems and put them in a vase. But she stopped short, pacing back into the living room. Morgan was reminded again, of what else was in the kitchen. And she couldn’t very well just go in there and open up the medicine cabinet without someone noticing, and at the very least, asking what she was doing.

Her room had been completely cleaned, and had nothing left in it, but what rooms were supposed to have. A bed. Clothes. Not pills and weed and alcohol stored in every conceivable hiding place.

Now Morgan was the one pacing. Her mind creeping dangerously toward the thought that she could just have one pill, to take the edge off her discomfort, and that would be it. Plus, she’d be a lot less high-strung. A lot less prone to start blubbering after she broke up with her ex, who was a jackass anyway.

--

Bryan excused himself with every intention of locating Morgan to tell her to get out to the table. They were having pineapple upside down cake. It wasn’t exactly his specialty. But he had called his mom to ask for a recipe and/or suggestions. It came out okay, and knowing how much Morgan liked anything pineapple made the prospect of sharing it with her that much better.

He found her walking a path from the middle of the living room to the bathroom hall, so determinedly that he wondered if she knew she was holding Liam’s roses. He also noticed that Liam was nowhere in sight.

“Hey. Ready for dessert?” he asked her, smiling. This apron of Libby’s had really come in handy. He didn’t need to worry about being careful eating the spaghetti at all tonight. Small red-orange spots dotted the purple flowers, and Bryan was fine with that.

Morgan glanced up. “Oh. Yeah. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” Bryan agreed, taking the apron off and slipping it over her head. “Well, I gotta go relieve myself.”

“Thanks for that,” Morgan remarked, unburying the flowers from beneath the apron. Well, Bryan had just shot her plan all to hell. So much for checking the bathroom cabinet for anything.

She was still standing there when Bryan came out. “What’s up?” he asked, seriously, stopping in front of her and staring into her eyes.

“I’m fine,” she lied, her voice carrying a harsh edge that even she didn’t expect.

Bryan stared, silent.

“I’m…fighting,” she admitted, avoiding his eyes.

“Hey, look at me,” he said quietly. “That’s a good thing. You need to talk?” he asked, settling down on the couch and nodding that she could join him.

Morgan grimaced, shaking her head. “No, I’ll be okay.”

“Depends on your definition of okay,” Bryan pointed out, without judgment.

She tucked her hands in her pockets and fidgeted with her ponytail. She didn’t stop walking, but she cursed herself again as Christian made his way past them and squeezed her hand, before making his way into the bathroom and closing the door.

Christian.

Seeing him, reminded Morgan of everything she had to lose if she gave in and decided to use. She would lose her place with the girls. She would lose being a part of their lives. She would lose everything.

“I don’t know how to talk about it,” she admitted. “Because I don’t know how I feel.”

“What happened?” Bryan asked.

Morgan waited until Coby passed between them and stood in line for the bathroom, too. Then, she sat down on the couch, praying that God would take down the level of anxiety inside her, and lessen her desire to silence her emotions.

“I broke up with Liam,” she admitted softly, ducking her head. “He left. Told me I ruined his life and our future together.”

“Hey,” Bryan said, determined that she hear him out on this one thing. “You made some bad decisions, yes. Absolutely. But it takes two people. You broke up with him because he isn’t good for you, right?”

Morgan nodded, sniffling, grateful when Bryan did nothing but hand her a Kleenex.

“You are doing exactly what you need to do. You’re taking care of yourself. Getting rid of all those friends and people who don’t have your best interest in mind.”

“I guess, but it sucks!” Morgan exclaimed. “I just don’t want to feel like this.”

“Yeah, it does,” Bryan nodded. “But you’re human and people hurt. If this reminds you…I’m really sorry. You don’t need to be reliving that.”

Morgan sat, her arms wrapped around herself, and tears tracking their way down her face.

Bryan took a deep breath. Jon and Emily had told them when they came back from Family Week that Morgan wanted to be kept accountable. It didn’t mean it would be any easier for him to ask. But Bryan fought the desire to just leave it alone. The last time he had done that, Morgan had almost not made it.

“I need to ask you something…”

--

“Hey, Christian. I need to ask you something,” Coby told him, when the bathroom door finally opened.

Coby pulled Christian close and whispered in his ear, relieved when he nodded his head yes.

--

“Did you take anything?” Bryan asked her, staring intently into her eyes.

Morgan blinked, startled. She fought down the feelings of anger and betrayal and defiance that threatened to come up when she heard the question. She made herself wait. Count to five slowly, before she answered.

“No,” she said calmly. Besides, there was no reason to freak out, if she hadn’t done anything. And she hadn’t thank God.

She was debating whether or not to turn her pockets when Coby and Christian came back through the room, hand in hand. Coby looked determined and a little nervous, and was definitely surprised when Christian let go of his hand, and climbed into Morgan’s lap, wrapping his arms around her neck.

He held on for longer than any of them expected, his little head nestled in her neck. When he finally moved, it was only a little, to whisper in her ear.

“I got something that’ll make you feel better,” he told her conspiratorially. “It’s called dessert…and it’s called, Coby--”

Christian was cut off as Coby scooped him up and tickled him breathless.

“You’re not supposed to say anything, remember?” Coby said, carrying him out to the kitchen.

Morgan and Bryan exchanged a look.

“Maybe we should get out there. We wouldn’t want to miss an opportunity for you to feel better,” Bryan encouraged. “Besides, you’ve gotta try my cake.”

“Well, you know I can’t turn that down,” she said, putting an arm around his neck and walking back out to the kitchen with him.

She left the roses on the couch behind her, feeling peace about it.

Everything happened for a reason.

--

Coby couldn’t concentrate on enjoying dessert. He couldn’t concentrate on the way that Morgan had taken her seat back beside Nathaniel. How he kept dissecting his cake into pieces. Giving her all the pineapple, and keeping the cake to himself. Coby kept checking his jacket pocket. He had already checked half a dozen times. Already snagged Christian on his way back from the bathroom during the meal.

He had to do it soon, before he lost his nerve.

He stood up and stumbled over the leg of his chair, stopping in front of Jess.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, smiling.

Quietly, he got down on one knee, and reached in his pocket, his hand closing around the little box. He took it out and flipped it open, barely hearing the whoops and cheers around the table.

“Holy…” Legend gasped. This was the last thing on earth she expected. Jess and Coby had taken it so slowly, she expected them to both be in a retirement home before he got up the nerve.

He had talked to Christian because she didn’t have any other family in her life. And because Coby was well aware that he wasn’t only asking to become Jess’s husband, but Christian’s father, too. He had agreed and nearly squeezed the life out of Coby.

Christian kept eyeballing him now, just waiting for the opportunity for his mom to find out the secret.

“Jessica Gray. Will you marry me?” he asked, staring deeply into the eyes of the woman he loved more than anything.

Jess blinked, shifting her gaze from his intense and hopeful brown eyes, to the simple ring inside the box. She opened her mouth. Closed it again. Opened it. But it was no use. Nothing would come out.

Everyone in the room was holding their breath, it seemed, waiting for her to give the appropriate response. But Jess had no idea what that was, and right now, she didn’t care.

She wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him hard on the mouth, letting that do the talking for her.

“Woo! Go Jess!” Emily cheered.

“Mom!” Christian exclaimed, getting down from his chair and working his way between them. “You’re not supposed to do that. You’re supposed to say what I said when he asked me,” Christian explained, looking at Jess wisely.

“What did you say,” she managed, touched that the man she loved so deeply would ask her son for permission. But it was just like Coby.

“Yes,” Christian said matter-of-factly.

Jess stared at Coby, still breathless from the kiss.

“Yes,” she told him simply, wrapping her arms around both of them.

--

The room exploded around Morgan, and for once, it wasn’t with fear or anguish. It was with love and joy, as every single one of her friends lined up to congratulate Jess and Coby. She excused herself in the mayhem, well aware of Bryan staring at her, but knowing that she had to do this.

--

Jess couldn’t remember being this happy. She had just hugged Jonathan, who made her laugh, because he came with his pineapple upside down cake, and even offered her a bite when Morgan showed up.

“Congratulations,” Morgan said sincerely.

And Jess looked down to find her arms full of roses.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Smoke & Mirrors: Chapter 11

Aaron had definitely experienced a full Saturday, by the time he got back to his apartment. Talking to Libby and Emily had been good, and eye-opening, spending time with Cary and Nate had been more fun than Aaron expected to have, and way more delicious. He would have to make sure they added Cary’s to the Monday Madness rotation just so he could take a turn cooking. And, Liam? Well, Aaron figured if he could talk to Liam and not knock his head off, he could take anything the rest of them had to say.

“You look like shit,” Coby told him honestly, pouring over some bills with his checkbook out.

“Yeah, well I just talked to Liam,” Aaron said, disgusted. “I think it’s a common reaction.”

Coby snickered. “Yeah, I guess. So, where have you been all day. Usually after Saturday cartoons or work you hang around here all day.”

“Just checking in with people. Figured if I’m leading BS I might as well know how you guys are doing. I mean, what’s the point of diving into a big intense study of the book of Job if none of our hearts are in it. If we’re not there yet.”

“Are you really thinking of studying Job?” Coby asked skeptically.

“Yeah, maybe. Once we’re ready for it,” Aaron nodded.

“I’ll never be ready for skin disease, natural disasters and a dude that loses everything just to prove how faithful he is to God,” Coby scoffed.

“I think it’s kind of inspiring,” Aaron nodded. “It’s kind of like us.”

Coby was silent, staring at the check for next month’s rent, wishing it wasn’t so damn high so he’d have more money to help Jess out with her own bills or things for Christian. Sure they had the fund, but a lot of it had been used up, paying for Jess’s medical bills that insurance didn’t cover.

“What do you think?” Aaron wondered. “You don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it because it’s like us,” Coby elaborated. “What’s the point in allowing us to be dragged through hell?” He sent Aaron a hard look.

“Hey, man. Don’t look at me. I’m not saying I know. I don’t know anything, especially about God’s brain and stuff.”

“God doesn’t have a brain numbskull,” Coby said, witheringly. “He doesn’t need one.”

“Seriously, though. How are you doing?” Aaron asked, leaning back to prop his bad foot up on a nearby chair. It still got to aching if he walked around on it too much.

“I’m sober,” Coby said plainly.

“That’s great. But what about you?” Aaron pressed. Coby was about as expressive as a brick wall. But Aaron guessed he should expect some of them to resist, given Liam’s screwy leadership. No one ever wanted to be honest with him, because he was so into his own plan for all of them.

“I…don’t know,” Coby admitted. “My damn leg hurts all the time. I’m stressed about money, about school, about that shitty room, about Morgan. And I don’t know what to do with any of it.

“I pray. All the time. Sometimes it helps, but sometimes, nothing does. Those are the times when I really want to drink. The times when I think of Morgan, and she saves my life. She always used to say how I saved her life, and it made me so uncomfortable. But she’s saving me. Because I just want to drink until I can’t feel anymore. But when I think of how what she did killed all of us, and how bad off she is…and how I need to watch what I do because I’ve got Christian looking up to me.

“When I think of Jess, and know that when I save up the money…when I can support her and CJ, I’m gonna propose. I don’t know…I just take it minute by minute. Eventually, it isn’t so bad…”

“You’re going to ask her to marry you?” Aaron asked, incredulous.

“Hell, yeah. Wouldn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but I mean… Shit… I always thought Jon or Bryan would be the first of us to settle down.”

“You can’t say anything, got it? Not to Jess or any of the girls, or anybody. Otherwise, I’ll beat your ass,” Coby promised.

Aaron shook his head, understanding the need to keep it secret. “So, how close are you to popping the question?” he asked.

“Financially or emotionally?” Coby wondered.

“You know you’re never going to be financially ready, don’t you? Just ask her, dude. All you’ve got is right now. We know that better than anybody.”

“Yeah…” Coby trailed off. “Maybe you’re right.”

--

“So what the hell were you two yammering about out there?” Bryan asked. He was at his computer, pouring over his next big project for class. He had gotten an A on Project Jess as he privately referred to it, and she had been so happy that she had thrown her arms around him and kissed his cheek, saying this was the first A she’d earned, and it felt so good. It warmed his heart.

“Nothing,” Aaron said, coming in and sprawling on Bryan’s unmade bed. “He’s out there paying bills and I’m trying not to think about the fact that I just talked to Liam about anything important. Why do we hang with him again?”

Bryan shrugged. “By association, I think. He’s Libby’s brother, and Nate’s friends with her.”

“I didn’t mean actually tell me,” Aaron complained, pulling his bandana over his face. “He’s just so full of crap. How did we ever trust him, much less go to anything where he was the leader?”

“We wanted more of God,” Bryan said honestly. “At least that was my reason. It still is. And I think we had the conversation before about how he places himself pretty high in his own estimation, but he’s just a guy. He’s human. People make mistakes.”

Aaron sighed. As usual, Bryan was right. “So I didn’t come in here just to rag on Liam.”

Bryan closed the screen on his computer and turned in his swivel chair that made him feel like he was working in an office. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Seems like everybody’s kind of having a rough time. Especially after Morgan, it kind of opened my eyes how we’ve gotta be around for each other a lot better. Not that it’s our fault she OD’d, she did what she did. But still…you know?”

“Yeah,” Bryan nodded solemnly. “I keep having these really sick dreams…about what I’d do if I had him in a room with me. Ways I‘d like to make him suffer. Ways I‘d like him to die.”

Aaron nodded. Bryan was one who refused to call Buddy by name anymore, especially since that hadn’t even been his real name in the first place.

“Sounds pretty damn satisfying if you ask me,” Aaron said. Just the thought of it cheered him up a little. “Way to take our power back, man.”

“You think?” Bryan asked, cocking his head to think. “’Cause it makes me feel…like I’m on equal ground…like I’m the same as him. And that’s not something I’m comfortable with… Killing people‘s a sin.”

“Well, of course it is. But you’re not actually doing anything. It’s just dreams. You can’t help that. And, you’re pissed off at him, so of course you’d dream that.”

Bryan let out a breath. “Man…You have no idea how much better I feel. It’s not really something I can admit to the Father, you know? At least not yet. I’ve felt so bad about it, you know? It’s like I was reliving my past with the gang all over again.”

“Did you know about Morgan?” Aaron asked, a sudden curiosity rising inside him. “You were talking about the gang and all. They have to have used and shit. Did she tip you off at all? Even without meaning to?”

Bryan’s eyes went nearly black as he narrowed them. “If I had any suspicion at all about Morgan using drugs, I would have said something and done what I could to get her help. She was never around long enough for me to notice,” he admitted, calming slightly. “That was probably by design, too. Morgan knows my history. She knew that I’d be able to tell. The same with Jess, probably. That’s why she spent most of her time around Liam. Because he had no idea.”

Aaron nodded slowly. “I just keep thinking, if we could have spotted it sooner…maybe it wouldn’t have gotten this bad.”

“The important thing is, she’s getting help. That right now, she seems serious about recovery. That’s all we can hope for. This thing is up to her. We can be here for her,” Bryan said, remembering Jon and Emily giving them the rundown of Family Week, “But when it comes down to it, sobriety and staying clean is Morgan’s fight.”

--

Sunday morning, Aaron decided to try and meet with the remaining people that he hadn’t gotten to the day before. Since Jon wasn’t partial to being up any earlier than he had to be, and Legend and Jess took forever to get ready, he decided to take Christian out to McDonalds for breakfast.

“Can I get a Happy Meal?” Christian asked curiously.

“It’s breakfast time, kiddo. We’re getting that bad boy, see?” Aaron pointed to the huge breakfast platter, picturing pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausage, biscuits and hash browns.

“Oh!” Christian exclaimed. “I’m eating all those bad boy pancakes,” he said decidedly. He would let Aaron eat the eggs. Christian didn’t like them, especially since he found out that baby birds come from eggs.

Finally, they were settled in a booth in the corner. Christian was on his knees, trying to figure out how to get as much pancakes on his fork as he could. Aaron had cut them up, but there were three of them, and they were very huge.

“Are we going to church?” he asked around a big bite.

“You bet,” Aaron nodded. “I’m driving you after we’re done. What do you think of those pancakes?”

Aaron didn’t really care for pancakes anyway. Not after Cary’s French toast, anyway. He ate the scrambled eggs, and sipped coffee, waiting for Christian to respond.

“So good,” he nodded. “The best I ever ate. I never had pancakes at a restaurant before. Only supper stuff. You know, like spaghetti?” he mumbled around a bite.

Aaron smiled. He couldn’t believe how big Christian was getting. He was five already. He had lost a tooth. He had grown taller since he and Jess had moved into High City. He had grown out of Spiderman and stuck with Spongebob. He barely talked about Bacony, his stuffed pig, anymore. His hair was a little bit long, but that was how Christian liked it. He was wearing a new blue and yellow striped dress shirt with a collar. A napkin was tucked into it, at Jess’s insistence. Next year, he would go to kindergarten. Next year, Aaron wasn’t sure if they would still all be together, or live as close to one another.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” Aaron asked, as much to distract himself as to engage Christian who was dragging his fork through a syrupy puddle on the plate to make a design.

“Okay,” Christian said, as if he’d been waiting for the opportunity. “I always wondered how they get the ketchup into those big ketchup machines. And pop, too. How does it get in there? ’Cause they can’t really put it up through the same little hole, otherwise it would just spill back out again.”

“They take it apart,” Aaron told him, conspiratorially. There were advantages to working in food service with his mom for years. He knew things that were impressive to his favorite five-year-old little kid.

“I should so work here,” Christian decided, stabbing a sausage and eating it all up. “You know how good I taked apart Mom’s alarm clock that one time?” he asked. That was back when he was a baby and didn’t know any better. Aaron had been friends with him for a long time.

“Yeah, you took it apart pretty good,” Aaron laughed. “So good that your mom was late for school.”

“Oh yeah!” Christian giggled.

Silence fell for a bit, while they both ate, and Christian looked out the window. He was thinking about something very hard, but he didn’t know if he wanted to say it. It was kind of a secret, because if he told his mom, she would probably ask him lots of questions that he couldn’t answer.

“What are you thinking about over there?” Aaron asked.

“What does it mean to be a man?” he asked seriously.

Aaron put his head in his hand, and willed Coby to hurry the hell up and propose. Jess needed a husband, and from the looks of things, this kid needed a father.

“Um… Why don’t you ask your mom?” Aaron hedged, uncomfortable.

“Because!” Christian exclaimed, exasperated. “She’s a girl! How would she know?”

“What do you mean?” Aaron asked finally, wondering where Christian was going with this.

“I used to think it was when you take good care of your mom and your friends, and you’re polite and all that stuff.”

“That’s right,” Aaron confirmed, still curious.

“But a kid at school said a real man would hurt somebody back. If somebody hurt his mom the way the bad guy hurt my mom…and all you guys…that he would hurt him back worse. When I get sad he says real men don’t cry.”

“What do you think?” Aaron asked, not at all sure how to handle this.

“Sometimes I get mad like I want to hurt people. Not even the bad guy. Just regular people, you know? That didn’t even do bad things to you guys. But I know that I shouldn’t…and I’m not sure about the crying…” he said, licking the syrup off a piece of pancake thoughtfully.

“Well, you’re right. You shouldn’t ever hurt people. Sometime you might be forced to, like, if somebody was hurting you, then you fight back. Or your mom. But otherwise, no. Hurting people doesn’t make you a man. It just makes you mean. If you get mad inside, just find one of us to talk to.”

“But you’re not there at school,” Christian objected softly. “That’s where I always get mad.”

“Then talk to the play therapist lady. You can always ask to talk to her, or somebody else like her if she’s gone. They have people there to help with stuff like that.”

“But I need to take care of my mom,” Christian said solemnly.

“Listen,” Aaron said, scooting over to the little boy’s side of the booth and pulling him onto his lap. “You’re a kid. Your only job is to go to school and do your best. Otherwise you play. You have fun. And, hey,” Aaron added, looking Christian in the eyes. “Men cry. It’s okay.”

“Does Coby cry?” Christian asked, clearly skeptical.

Aaron pulled out his cell and dialed Coby’s number, figuring it was better for the kid to hear it from him anyway. “Let’s call him, and you can ask.”

Christian was busy drinking his orange juice and feeling kind of shy about asking Coby, but Aaron said “Christian has a question,” and just gave it to him anyway.

“Morning, buddy,” Coby greeted, searching for something clean and decent that he could wear to church. “What’s your question?”

“…Do you cry?” Christian finally asked, very soft.

On the other end of the call, Coby sat down on his bed. “Sure, I do. Why?”

“I don’t know…” Christian hesitated. “I was talking to Aaron about man stuff, and this one kid said real men don’t cry and Aaron said they do. I wasn’t sure, so…”

“Everybody cries. It’s okay,” Coby told him gently. “Okay? Are you having a good time with Aaron? What are you having for breakfast?”

“About a million pancakes,” Christian passed on, feeling much better. “And! Guess what?”

“What?” Coby asked, laughing.

“I’m eating them all. Aaron’s eating all the rest.”

--

Morgan had gotten a phone message from Aaron right away that morning. It said he was wondering how she was doing, So, as soon as she had a chance, after she got back from church that was so early in the morning, Morgan would have never gone before rehab, she called Aaron.

--

Aaron stepped out of the sanctuary, turning on his phone and cursing softly as he saw he had one missed call from Morgan, and one new voice mail.

He dialed and listened, smiling as he listened to Morgan talk.

“Hey, Aaron. It’s Mo. Miss you so bad! But it’s okay, ‘cause I’ll be out soon. Like, really soon.

“I don’t know if I’m really ready yet. Really nervous, and I don’t really want to leave, to be honest. This place is like, so safe. Everybody understands, you know? Anyway, I’ll be out in a few days if all goes well. Still working on treatment, and I’m going to live in one of those sober-halfway houses for a few weeks, too. Everybody says it betters our chances to go to one of those rather than straight home. So, pray me up, okay? I’m praying for you guys, too.

“I’m having lots of big breakthrough moments, and I’m really sorry for all the shitty choices I made that affected all you guys. I’m not to the sorry step yet, but I just wanted to let you know now that my brain’s not full of altering shit, that I care a lot about all you guys. I love you, and I’ll be able to visit from Soberville, okay? For sure. So we should do a Madness when we’re all together again. All right, I gotta fly. Take care, dude.”

--

Jon was grabbing a hot-ass cup of mocha cappuccino from the coffee bar at church when he heard Aaron come up behind him and ask for hot chocolate and a biscotti. When he was done, he sat down at a table, carefully removing the cover, so he could let the steam out.

After church everybody pretty much scattered, and left at different times. Jon liked to hang around until it got less busy, and leave then. He wasn’t really sure why. He just preferred the calm, to everybody rushing everywhere. It made him feel better.

“Hey,” he said, sending Aaron a wave. He was in a ridiculously happy mood, mostly because when Aaron got that voice mail message from Morgan, he had passed his phone around and let everyone hear it.

Aaron sat down across the table, still happy as a clam from getting that great message from Mo. It had made his day, he already decided.

“So, anymore nightmares?” he asked Jon easily. He was one of those guys that Aaron could pretty much ask anything, and get an answer. Jon preferred to get to the point, and Aaron could appreciate that. He didn’t like to mess around either. Especially when it came to emotional stuff, and feelings.

“Not really, I guess. I mean, I haven’t really slept well, so, maybe that doesn’t count.”

“Yeah, I don’t think any of us have been. Maybe it’ll get better once Mo gets to her sober house and out of treatment.”

“You want to go to AA sometime maybe? They really encouraged it when Em and I visited. I’m trying to get a group of us together. I think it’d be good for us to kind of know what we’re getting into. A way to be prepared. That kind of thing.”

“Well, I think with both Morgan and Coby involved in it, we should definitely have their backs as far as knowing what they’re dealing with and what we can do to make ourselves better, and not enable any behaviors or anything. I’ll bring it up when we meet up for BS.”

“Is it still BS if we’re not studying anything?” Jon asked, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah, why not?” Aaron asked. “Now I gotta find Legendary. They didn’t leave yet, did they?” Aaron asked.

“Jessica! Don’t you dare!” Legend called, running by to avoid Jess, who was aiming brand new cell phone, trying to snap a picture.

“Get back here, you! I need to take your picture. It’s way easier than typing in your name. Come on!” she insisted, laughing, running awkwardly with her still-unsteady gait.

“I got her, Mom!” Christian yelled helpfully, wrapping his arms around her legs, then sitting and wrapping his legs around her, too. “There! Take the picture!” he called.

Aaron laughed as Jess managed to take one, just as Legend cracked up.

“Was that so hard?” Jess asked sweetly. “Gosh, I love this phone. Except all the buttons are kind of small. Why did Coby suddenly think I need one of these?”

“Because,” Christian said matter-of-factly, finally getting up off of Legend’s feet. “And probably, he thinks I need one, too, right?”

“Get back to me in a few years,” Jess said, ruffling his hair. “We should get going, though. Looks like Coby’s waiting for us by the car.”

“Hey,” Aaron spoke up. “Why don’t you let Coby take Christian. I want to hang out with you girls a little bit. Is that okay?”

“I’ll hang out!” Christian volunteered waving a hand around in the air.

“You hung out with me at breakfast, remember?” Aaron asked.

“Oh yeah. Well, I can hang out again,” he offered. “I’m not busy.”

Aaron laughed. “Thanks, kiddo. Maybe another time.”

--

Legend was perched on a huge leather chair in front of the fireplace, sipping her caramel macchiato, while Aaron sat across from her, new coffee in his hand. He had thrown the hot chocolate out, in favor of the Starbucks caramel apple spice.

She was dressed in a light purple shirt, and cute skinny jeans. Her hair was pulled back, because when she wore it loose, she was more apt to be recognized. The bad part of that, was that she had worn her hair back that day in November, too. She could understand Morgan’s desire to always have a hat, or always pull her hair back, because it was sort of the same for her.

Jess was still at the counter, determined to pay for her orange mango banana smoothie, without help. She could count out the dollars with correct change.

When Jess set her mind to something, no one could talk her out of it. And if she didn’t need any help, then either Legend or Aaron were about to stand in her way.

“So, how are things for you?” Aaron asked.

“They’re fine,” Legend answered, averting her eyes.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be having one of these deep conversations. There was a lot going on under the surface that Legend didn’t want to discuss. And she definitely didn’t really want to be hanging out in a coffee shop with all its random loud noises and people wearing red. It made her jumpy and a little dizzy.

Legend bit her lip and glanced down at her scarred left hand. She hid it inside her sleeve, unnerved.

Aaron had picked up a newspaper and Legend averted her eyes. The last thing she wanted was reading headlines about random acts of violence.

Jess made her way over, with her smoothie. She was wearing her new favorite outfit. It wasn’t that she was suddenly rolling in money, or anything like that, but Libby had introduced her to thrift shopping and Jess found that she loved it, and found some really cute stuff. Today, she was wearing hot little black leggings and a white top with great sparkles on it.

She had, eventually, managed to come up with four dollars and twenty-five cents to pay for her drink. Legend was worrying her sleeve, and Aaron had his nose buried in the paper. He didn’t seem to notice that she was having a hard time.

And Jess knew firsthand that when Legend struggled, she didn’t like people knowing.

“Hey,” Jess said softly, cringing when Legend jumped. “Do you want to run over to the bookstore or something and just hang out there?” she asked gently. “I’ll talk to Aaron, and then we’ll meet you over there?”

“Yeah, okay…” she nodded, swallowing.

“Aw, see you girl,” Aaron said sadly, standing to hug her goodbye. Once Legend was out the door, Aaron flopped down dejectedly in his own chair, while Jess took the one that had been previously occupied.

“I feel like a horrible friend,” Aaron confessed. “I totally didn’t notice she was having a hard time.”

“She hides it well,” Jess reassured. “But she’ll be okay. I think the noise just got to her.”

“Are you okay here?” he asked. The last thing he wanted was to make Jess upset, too.

“Yeah, are you kidding? I love the noise. And it smells amazing,” Jess laughed.

“You love the coffee smell, and yet you got some weird fruit smoothie…” Aaron trailed off, humor and confusion dancing in his eyes.

“I found out that caffeine and I don’t really get along too well, since my brain…”

Aaron waited, expectant. When Jess had nothing to add, he spoke again. “Just ’since your brain…’” he repeated, amused.

“Yeah, pretty much. Well, you know what I mean, so I don’t have to really explain it…” Jess said, waving it off, to reaffirm that elaboration was optional. “And anyway, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m tough. Grr..” Jess growled, before taking a sip of her drink.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me twice. I’ve known you for a while. You know your son was asking me advice on being a man this morning?”

Jess squinted. “Really? What did he want to know?”

“If hurting people made you more of a man, and if crying made you less of one,” Aaron told her seriously. “I guess some little punk at school was giving him a hard time. I set him straight, but he said he gets mad a lot when he goes to school. I wasn’t sure if he’d mentioned that so I thought I’d say something, in case you wanted to know.”

“Of course,” Jess nodded. “I always want to know. You cleared everything up for him?.”

“Yeah, no problem. So, anything new?” Aaron asked.

“Well, I paid for my drink just like I said I would. I counted the right amount of money after a few times doing it wrong. It was my luck I was only dealing with dollars and quarters. Those aren’t so hard.”

“Very cool,” Aaron complimented. “Are you doing okay with Morgan, and Liam’s field trip and everything?”

“Not even close,” Jess said, her voice incongruously bright. “I hate that one of us is missing. I hate that Morgan has to go through this, and that we didn’t see it. And I really hate that Liam was so thoughtless. Especially with Libby and Morgan. But there’s not a lot I can really do about it except pray, is there?”

“Sure,” Aaron said, searching out the last remnants of his caramel apple spice. “You can talk to people. Talk to us.”

“I talk to people all the time,” Jess assured him. “Trust me, don’t worry about it. I’m okay. If I’m ever not okay, I’ll let one of you know,” she said sweetly. “I know I got it kind of rough on the injury side of things, but sometimes, I think I got out of it pretty good. Because I don’t have any memory of it.”

“This has really changed you,” Aaron said, his tone reflective.

“How do you mean?” Jess wondered, curious. She was hoping Aaron didn’t mean in a bad way.

“You’ve, like…got a different perspective on life than before, kind of. Before, you were all stressed out about so much and now, you just seem lighter. And it’s been so awesome to see how everybody else can rely on you. You’re kind of like a mom to all of us, you know?”

Jess blushed. “I always knew I changed. I guess I just never slowed down enough to think about how. I mean, other than the massive headaches, and all the deficits. But I guess I am lighter now. If I remember right, I was kind of putting a lot of stress on myself, about things I was already doing. So it wasn’t really…needed, I guess? I was upset about things that I didn’t have to be. Now, it’s just a blessing to get up and know my name, and know that I can be here for Christian, and for all of you. I love knowing that I’m helping you guys, because you’ve done so much for me.”

Aaron just nodded. There was really nothing he could say after that.

“Well, you think we should go get Legend? She gets bored if she’s not always doing something,” Jess shared.

“Definitely,” Aaron agreed, putting his arm around Jess as much in camaraderie as for support. “Thanks for everything you’re doing. For working so hard finding Morgan treatment, for just sticking it out, keeping a level head. We needed that.”

“Well, somebody had to,” Jess smiled. “I just figured, why not me?”

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Smoke & Mirrors: Chapter 10

Libby was trying up to her elbows in dirty dishes, because apparently no one else cared if they were clean, and left them to pile into a mountain. It didn’t help that they didn’t have a dishwasher.

“What are you doing?” Emily asked, wrinkling her nose as she boosted herself up onto the counter to sit beside the sink.

“Why is nobody washing the dishes?” Libby demanded, scrubbing a bowl with congealed Ramen stuck to the inside. The smell was rancid and made her want to hurl, and the grapefruit-scented dish soap could only do so much to mask the odor.

“Because,” Emily shrugged, grabbing a dish towel and starting to dry the ones in the rack, so Libby would have more room. “I only wash them when we run out of cereal bowls. Or silverware. Or pans.”

“We ran out of bowls two days ago,” Libby pointed out.

Emily nodded, ducking to open a cupboard door, and put things away. “I know, but Christian got me into using the big Tupperware bowls instead. It’s awesome. Sometimes we share, and sometimes, I just eat it all myself.”

“I was wondering what all these big bowls were doing in here,” Libby commented laughing. “So, hey, Aaron asked me to head over to Borders with him today. Do you want to come?”

“Why? Aaron hates books,” Emily reminded, as if Libby could forget.

“Yeah, but I don’t. I think he just wants to talk to us. He said he wants to take the temperature of BS or something.”

“Cool. I don’t have anything else to do,” Emily grinned. “I love the children’s section, and then maybe I can find one of those really great art books for you and Nate and Cary to fall totally in love with. You guys like Monet, or just that sculpture dude?”

Libby wrinkled her brow. “Cary likes the sculpture dude. Nate and I like Monet and anybody else old and cool. Van Gogh. Photographs, you know?”

Emily was impossible to keep up with, and Libby had it on good authority that she was still trying to catch up on the two days of class she missed when she and Jon went to Family Week with Morgan.

“All right. Well, Aaron’s coming any minute,” Libby warned.

Wordlessly, Emily set to work beside Libby, helping her finish the dishes so that they could go.

--

“So, how’re things going for you?” Aaron asked, after they lost Emily somewhere in the giant art books section.

Libby shrugged, not sure where to start. “I hope you don’t mind Emily came, too.”

“Hey, I love Emily. It doesn’t bug me that she came. This is for you. If having her here is what you want, then I’m all for it.”

Unable to keep it in, Libby sighed, relieved. Ever since November, she didn’t do well around only guys, especially in a one-on-one kind of situation. So, while she loved Aaron and respected him, she needed Emily there to help her feel safe. Just knowing she was nearby seemed to help.

“So, am I the first?” Libby asked playfully.

Aaron nodded. “I was thinking ladies first. You know?”

“Very classy,” she agreed.

“So…” he let the sentence trail, wondering if Libby would be able to elaborate, or if they should just stick to browsing.

“It’s tough. But I definitely like the change of leadership,” she confided. “You don’t have to tell my brother that, but I do. I think it really was time for somebody else to step in. Especially after what he did in that room.”

‘Yeah…” Aaron said, stretching the word out. “How did you do with that? I know it messed a lot of people up.”

“It did and we didn’t even really get a chance to deal with that because then Morgan was in trouble right afterwards…”

Aaron was quiet, following Libby’s lead and flipping through a book, studying the pictures. He didn’t know why, but she tended to do better when he was doing something else and not looking at her, waiting for an answer.

“Did you see what Liam did?” she asked cautiously, flipping through a book made up of black and white photographs of old movie stars like Marilyn Monroe and Lucile Ball.

Libby reminded herself not to say that Liam had made her do anything. Now that it had been a few weeks, she had spoken to her counselor several times about what had happened, and Libby had worked diligently at taking her power back in this situation, too. They had gone through other options Libby had aside from going along with what he suggested. Saying no. Walking away. Just refusing to go with the group. She was learning that she always had the option to say no and remove herself if she wasn’t comfortable with a person or a situation.

Aaron shook his head. He had been kind of glad to get out of there before Liam got too into whatever he was planning.

“He asked me to take him around. Show him where everybody hid. Tell him what happened to them. Then, asked if I could go back under the table like I was before, and I did. He asked me to take him behind the desk, too, and I did. He asked what was done to me and I told him. It was so freaky to be there again, in the exact same places. I kept expecting…I don’t know…him to burst back in,” Libby mumbled, closing the book.

Aaron shuddered. “I wasn’t even in there two minutes, and I felt like that, too,” he confirmed.

“I talked to Jess about it later that night, since I like her better than my counselor,” Libby confided. “And that helped a lot, but I still don’t know where I stand with Liam at all. I’m so pissed about what he did. I can’t fall asleep at night anymore. All that old stuff that just started to go away is coming back, and it makes me so mad. And he still thinks he’s right about it.”

“Is there anything I can do? Or that you want me to do?” Aaron asked.

Libby shrugged, absently flipping through another book with photos of historical moments. When she flipped past some kind of standoff with SWAT officers and guns, she slammed the book closed.

“Not really. Just talking about it sort of helps, I think. I know I need to talk to Liam, but I’m not sure how to do it so he’ll hear me. I’ve already tried a couple times, and it doesn’t seem to do any good.”

“Well, focus on what you can change, right? Like what Morgan’s learning. Change what you can, accept what you can’t and move on.”

“If only it were that simple,” Libby smiled wryly.

“I know, right? If only…” Aaron agreed slinging an arm around her shoulder.

--

“Aar! Come check out this book! It has naked sculptures in it,” Emily whispered conspiratorially.

Aaron smirked. “What are you doing looking at that?”

“For Cary,” she defended. “Lib said he likes sculpture books, and this one has a lot of naked ones in it. I already found some Monet for Libby and a Van Gogh one for Nathaniel.”

“Cary likes naked sculptures?” Aaron asked, squinting and turning the book. When it didn’t help, he focused on Emily instead. “So, how are you?” he asked, putting an arm around her.

“Me? I’m okay. Lots of drama, but I’m like, the drama-queen. So I can’t be mad about it, can I? It’s just easier to step in where you can and help people through it.”

Aaron blinked, wondering when exactly in the last four months, Emily had grown up. She was still as fun-loving as ever, but she had matured. She was helping everyone out, without being asked, she volunteered to go to Family Week with Jon, which meant spending a lot of money. Honestly, Aaron was really impressed.

“You know, I’m really proud of you,” he told her, putting an arm around her.

“Thanks,” Emily said, surprised, but pleased. “How are you doing?”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” Aaron commented, a little shocked. “Um, I’m all right I guess. It’s hard. The nightmares. The sounds. The smells. But being with you guys helps. I don’t know what I’ll do when this semester’s over.”

“Oh, don’t even talk about that,” Emily exclaimed. “I don’t want to think about it. I can’t believe I ever left you guys by my own choice…”

“Yeah… Well, we were all messed up then. No one blames you,” Aaron told her, squeezing her shoulder.

“I like the idea of these little one-on-one dates,” Emily nodded in approval. “Because, you know, with you, it’s super-genuine. With Liam, it would have been…I don’t know…kind of fake, I guess.”

Aaron shrugged. “I just thought we should connect again. I feel like we really don’t know where each other is in our heads or in life or anything really. With the other BS we were so busy kind of following some kind of script or plan to get us better that I think we lost the pulse of the group. I wanted that to come back. And I really want us to resurrect Monday Madness once Morgan comes back.”

“Definitely,” Emily agreed, stacking her purchases on the check out counter and making Aaron distract Libby so she couldn’t see her present.

--

Next to agree to meeting up was Nathaniel, but only if Cary was going to be there, too. Aaron said that would be awesome, and they invited him over to Cary’s immediately.

He tapped on the apartment door once he was buzzed in, and was shocked when it was pulled open, and his eyes focused on the far wall, which was painted a brilliant purple.

“Come on in,” Nate told him, opening the door wider, and kicking his shoes out of the way.

Aaron breathed in deep, and sighed contentedly. “French toast?” he asked, incredulous.

“Of course!” Cary exclaimed from the kitchen. “Hey, Aaron! Come on in! Make yourself at home.”

“Nice place,” Aaron commented loudly so Cary could hear over all the noise in the kitchen.

The living room was decorated in black and silver, with interesting candles and art on the wall. His couch looked super comfortable, black leather, and Aaron sprawled on it right away.

“What do you want on your French toast?” Cary called.

“Dude, I don’t need to eat. I’ll just grab something later,” Aaron decided. He hadn’t invited himself over expecting anything. He just wanted a chance to talk to them.

“If you’re at my place, you’re eating,” Cary told him firmly, he peered out of the kitchen looking both severe and ridiculous, spatula in one hand and wearing a bright red apron that said his name across it in in curly letters. “Now, what do you want on it? Butter, syrup, peanut butter, fruit, chocolate syrup?”

“Whatever tastes the best,” Aaron resolved.

“Okay, well they have to cook a little bit, so I’m gonna baby-sit them and watch Ace of Cakes,” he said, giving them space, in case Nate wanted to talk about anything with Aaron.

“Does he do this all the time for you?” Aaron asked, disbelieving. “Bryan cooks great but only if you twist his arm, and Coby can’t even wash a dish…”

“Hey, neither can you, so I’ve heard,” Nate challenged. “And yeah, pretty much. We have breakfast for dinner once a week. We both love it,” Nate sighed, before sitting up, and projecting a little more so that Cary could hear, “Hey, babe? Don’t forget the whipped cream.”

“Nope! Got it!” Cary confirmed.

Aaron listened, amused, as Nate tuned into a program matching what Cary was apparently watching in the kitchen. He watched, impressed as the cake-maker constructed a cake shaped like Ursula the sea witch from The Little Mermaid.

“Maybe I could go into that instead of graphic design…” he mused. “Looks like a hell of a lot more fun…”

Nate stared intently at the screen. “I don’t want to talk. So, if you want to go talk to Cary, go ahead.”

He knew he was being rude, but Nate just didn’t want to talk to Aaron. Not now. Not about anything. He had already admitted to more than he had wanted to after everything happened, when he caught Aaron in a private moment after one of Liam’s real BS’s. It wasn’t Aaron’s fault, just Nate’s state of mind right now. Which was pretty shitty at the moment. He wasn’t really sleeping, and he wasn’t really eating, which was probably why Cary insisted on making him French toast with peaches. It was one of the only things he was able to stomach.

The last thing Nathaniel wanted was to rehash all the old crap they had been through, or any of the new stuff with Morgan. It wouldn’t do any good. He just needed someone to be there for him when he was ready to talk, if he ever was. For now, he was content just hanging out with Cary, because Cary was super intuitive and never pushed him to talk about anything. He let Nate have the control, which helped quite a bit.

“That’s fine,” Aaron said noncommittally. He wouldn’t say it didn’t matter, because it did, but he knew it never did anybody any good to be pushed. “So, if you’re not into talking about anything deep…what kind of cake would you make if you were on this?” Aaron wondered. “If we had to go Disney or Pixar, I’d do that red car from Cars.”

Nate perked up a little, “I think I’d probably make…I don’t know…that weird lady Cruella DeVille from 101 Dalmatians? She’d be kind of fun.”

“Cary, what kind of cake would you make for this?” Aaron hollered.

“Nightmare Before Christmas,” he answered. “Or Sweeney Todd or something. That’d be sick. Hey, come out here. Food’s ready.”

“So, what are you guys up to?” Aaron asked, reaching for the peanut butter and spreading it thickly across the French toast. Then came the maple syrup. It was the best way to eat pancakes, so why not try it with French toast?

Cary was busy with his own slices. He had put them in a bowl and now was scooping ice cream onto them. Then, he added bananas, peaches, strawberries and maple and chocolate syrup. “We just got back from shopping,” he told Aaron happily.

“Yeah, check out his jeans,” Nate pointed out, grinning.

“Nice,” Aaron nodded. “What is that? A dragonfly?” he asked, studying the seat of Cary’s jeans, where a strange winged creature was stenciled.

“I don’t know,” Cary shrugged. “But I thought it was cool, so I got them.”

“He wouldn’t let me just go to Target,” Nate grumbled. “We had to go to American Eagle, instead.”

“He has to branch out,” Cary said mildly, around a bite of ice cream. “He’s always bitching about how none of his jeans fit him nice, and then he goes to Target and gets homely ones.”

“They’re not homely,” Nate objected, even though he knew they were. Slowly, he picked out a slice of French toast and scooped on peaches and whipped cream.

The truth was, Nate just hated shopping, because he hated trying on jeans and having them not fit. It wasn’t like he was fat, but whenever he didn’t fit into the first pair he tried, it pissed him off. Thankfully, Cary led him to the best selection of jeans ever. For the first time Nate could remember, he walked out of a dressing room feeling damn amazing about himself. He even modeled in front of the mirror, while Cary just grinned, and asked how many more pairs he wanted, reminding him they were on sale. So now, he had the best pair of dark blue jeans he ever owned. And an extra black pair. Nathaniel didn’t think he would ever take them off.

“So, you just…what? Checking in on your people?” Cary asked, taking a big bite of his French toast sundae and closing his eyes, savoring it.

“Yeah, kinda…” Aaron nodded. “Figured it wasn’t really gonna be helpful to dive right into an actual BS already anyway. Like it might be better to go back to kind of basics, you know?”

Nate nodded. He did appreciate that. Even though he didn’t particularly want to talk to Aaron, he appreciated that he had actually been there, and that he had to have a better idea of what was going on than Liam, who hadn’t been there at all.

--

Aaron was on his way home from Cary’s when he drove past the skate park, and saw Liam’s car parked in the lot. Aaron squinted and saw him - he was the only person skating out there, and Aaron couldn’t help but wonder if Morgan were here, if she would be with him. Aaron sort of hoped she wouldn’t be, since Liam seemed not to be good for her at all.

“Hey,” Aaron called, sending Liam a wave.

Liam was coasting around in his favorite jean shorts and tee shirt the hoodie that he let Morgan borrow sometimes when she came over. It was gray and she always said how much she liked the deep pockets. He used to imagine her keeping notes in there for him, or little presents that he had bought for her, like a new sticker for her board, or new wheels. She never wanted him to buy her clothes. Morgan always said she felt like that was too personal, even before everything happened, so he was resigned to giving her things for her board. It was the only gift she would accept.

Now, though, all he could think of was her storing pills in the pockets. He prayed every time he put his hands inside, because the thought made him more mad than he had ever been in his entire life.

Aaron wasn’t sure if Liam would recognize him, since it was near dark already, and Aaron was pretty sure he just looked like a shadow in the twilight. Plus, all he was wearing was black. Black jeans, black tee shirt, black bandana.

“Hey, Aaron,” Liam called, waving back. He picked up his board and walked over. “What’s up?” he asked.

Liam loved it out here, especially when he was alone. But company was nice, too.

It didn’t matter that this was also the place he had been when he first heard about the tragedy. There was kind of a comfort in that. He couldn’t understand how Libby and everyone else was so panicked by simple things. Sure, some things got to him, but Liam found if he just gave them to God, or pushed them out of his head, it wasn’t that bad.

“Just taking the temperature of BS,” Aaron said amiably. “Came from Cary’s and had some kick-ass French toast. Not kidding. It was amazing. Cary had his like a sundae.”

Liam scowled, hoping that it couldn’t be seen. Cary wasn’t a part of Bible study. What the heck was Aaron doing talking to him? “So, what’s the verdict?”

“Pretty decent. So how are you?” Aaron wanted to know, sitting down at the top of a really tall ramp.

Liam debated whether or not to answer that. The worldly part of him was bitter about the change in leadership, still. If all Aaron wanted to do was come by and rub it in his face, then he could go somewhere else. But, truth be told, Liam really did need someone to talk to, and now that Morgan was gone, he didn’t have anyone. No one else cared to talk to him. And that was fine. But he was human. Liam could only take so much of the silent treatment.

“I miss Morgan,” he admitted, hanging his head. “Between my sister and Jonathan, and even Emily, they’re all making sure I don’t so much as think about calling her. But it’s so hard because we’re so invested in one another’s life. It’s like, I don’t know who I am without her. And it’s not like we broke up or anything. It’s just like….all of a sudden she’s gone. It’s like she died or something. That’s how the grieving process feels.”

Aaron felt a jolt go through him. He startled. “How can you say that, man?” he asked, not able to mask his shock.

“I don’t mean I wish she had, I just mean that’s how it feels to me. Because I had no say in this at all. She just took herself away from me.”

Aaron blinked. “What would you rather she did?”

“No! I mean, it’s good that she’s working out her issues and all that. There’s no way I would have wanted to marry her and then find out that she was leading this double-life, you know? It’s not bad, it’s just sudden. I just wish we could have talked about it. Made a decision together.”

“From what I hear, she was barely conscious,” Aaron pointed out darkly.

“Well, I don’t mean then,” Liam scoffed. Did Aaron think he was stupid? “I meant, like, before she went into actual rehab. I should have been involved in that process but I was cut out of it,” he said knowingly.

“You removed yourself from it,” Aaron said softly. “You could have stayed and helped Cary, Nate and Jon take her into the hospital so you could have been at those Who’s Involved meetings, but you bailed instead. Besides, sending her to a Christian rehab is about a million dollars more expensive, and her insurance barely wanted to pay for the one she’s in now.”

“What are you talking about?” Liam asked, confused. “Of course they would! Otherwise, that’s, like, religious discrimination. We could sue if they didn’t cover it.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “She’s in treatment. That’s all that matters. What are you thinking for when she gets out? You still want to be with her?” Aaron wondered. He hoped not.

“Of course I want to be with her!” Liam exclaimed, offended. “What kind of question is that? I love her. No matter what. I just want her to deal with her stuff, so that we can be together. I want Morgan to be the best person she can be. Is that so wrong?”

“Yes, because you just contradicted yourself. You said you love her no matter what and then that she has to deal with her life in order to be with you. She has to do everything on your terms. What do you have to do?”

“I’m not the one who over-dosed on pills and alcohol. I’m not the one with a million issues related to some…“ he trailed off, suddenly not wanting to finish the thought. “Why are you picking apart everything I say? I’m always the bad guy, right? I always do the wrong thing. I don’t agree but I’ll take the blame, if that’s what you want.”

“Backing off, okay? Settle down, man. We’re not the enemy. You’re not the enemy. Chill.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” Liam ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know why I’m so uptight. This whole thing is just making me crazy. I can’t concentrate on anything except wondering what she’s doing. Or if she’s okay. Or if she still wants to be with me. Or what I’m going to do if she messes up again.”

“You can’t control any of that, man. Just let her do what she’s doing, and you do what you’re doing. And you should really think about this, dude. Seriously. Are the two of you really good for each other? I mean she has all kinds of stuff going on. And it sounds like you two were kind of pushing things before? Around each other all the time. That’s kind of like an addiction, too.”

“Oh, come on,” Liam smiled, sure Aaron had to be kidding. “If you’re in love, it’s not addiction. Love is a good thing.”

“All right. I’ll be praying for you.”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Liam said, and disappeared into the night.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Smoke & Mirrors: Chapter 9

Christian got up early on the Wednesday when Emily had to go with Jonathan to be with Morgan to her rehab. Christian asked if he could go, too, because he was very good at helping people get better - and especially at cheering for them to do their best and using his indoor voice when they needed to concentrate.

He knew all about rehab from when his mom had to be in it after the bad guy hurt her head so she forgot how to do stuff. She was already a lot better, but she wasn’t all the way the same. Christian thought that was how it would probably be with Morgan, too. She would have a hard time with some things, like his mom did with her balance and finding words and with her head hurting sometimes.

Even though Christian couldn’t go with to help Morgan at her rehab, he could still make Emily have a good day before she left. He knew just how to do it, too. It was the same way with every girl. Christian knew that because his mom told him. All girls liked breakfast in bed.

He got a big bowl and poured a lot of Golden Grahams in it, because Emily liked to eat a lot of food, and it was important to have a good breakfast, especially when you had a big day ahead of you like she did. Christian poured milk on the cereal very careful.

Christian went down the hall as quiet as a mouse, opening the bedroom door that was already partway opened, by bumping his shoulder into it. He was allowed to go inside Emily and Libby’s room because it wasn’t Morgan’s room, and it didn’t have anything dangerous in it.

He set the cereal on Emily’s little table by her bed. Then, he turned around and ran back to the kitchen. He got her a banana and a juice box. After that, he brought the box of cereal in and sat on the floor, eating and being careful not to spill any pieces. He also brought in his new favorite book called Where The Wild Things Are. It was his favorite because Max was a wild thing and his mom called him a wild thing, too. Plus, his mom and him read it together every night.

Now that Christian was five, he was learning important stuff like reading. He couldn’t really do it yet, but he was starting out, and doing very good according to his mom. He could sound out words just like she taught him.

An alarm clock buzzed and made all of them jump a little bit, but Emily shut it off fast.

“Christian,” she said tiredly, sitting up from where she was sleeping with her bed very close to Libby’s so they didn’t get scared. “What are you doing in here?”

He smiled proudly at her. “I made you breakfast,” he told her gesturing at the big Tupperware bowl she usually filled with popcorn, filled with cereal and milk instead. “So you could start your day off good!”

“Aw, thank you. That’s nice of you,” she whispered so they didn’t wake up Libby, who fell back on her pillow when Emily turned the alarm off. “Let’s take this out of here, though, so Libby can sleep.”

Christian carried the cereal box and the book, and Emily carried everything else, because she was very strong.

“That was really nice of you to make me breakfast,” she complimented. “We should get you some breakfast, too, huh? Or do you just want to share with me? I could use your help eating this,” she told him, smiling.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he grinned, pulling out a giant spoon and dipping it in the cereal to take a big bite.

“Are you excited for school today?” she asked, taking out an identical spoon and enjoying it.

“Sort of,” he said. “Well, not as much as usual. Because you won’t be here when I come back. Or Jon, either. And Morgan’s still gone. That sort of makes it hard to think about stuff…”

Emily felt a pang of sympathy for him. He was just a little guy and he was sure dealing with a lot of change and disruption in his life. And from what she knew about his and Jess’s life before this, it hadn’t been any easier then.

“Well, you just remember that Jon and I are helping Morgan, but we’ll be back, and that a little while after that, Morgan will be back, too. Someday, we’ll all be together again,” she promised. “Just like before.”

“So you’re not going to school?” he asked, the thought just occurring to him.

“Nope,” Emily said brightly. Anytime she could have an excuse to get out of class, it was a good day, especially when she had the opportunity to help a friend.

“But don’t you have to go to school?” Christian asked. “Don’t you get in trouble if you don’t go?”

“Well, sometimes, taking care of your family and friends is more important,” Emily explained, crunching on another bite of cereal.

“I think it’s always more important,” Christian said, resting his head on Emily’s arm.

--

Jon wished he had a brownie, or something really awesome to start his day off right. It wasn’t natural to be awake before six in the morning if he didn’t have to be. Especially if he had already gotten out of classes, too.

But this was for Morgan, and Jon hoped to God that if he had been in a similar situation, that one of his friends would be there for him, especially if his family wasn’t. True, shelling out a bunch of money wasn’t something Jonathan particularly enjoyed, and neither was the prospect of spending twelve-hour days at a treatment center learning about addiction, but again, it was for Morgan.

It was kind of ironic in a way, to consider that it was himself and Emily who ended up with the resources and the willingness to show up. Everyone else had either one or the other. No one but he and Emily had both. And they decided they both should go, since Emily actually lived with Morgan, and Jon just wanted the opportunity to understand Morgan, and what she was enduring. He wanted to do something. Take an active role in this, to be prepared, and do what he could to at least see the signs if Morgan were ever in this kind of trouble again.

He drove to pick up Emily, having already stopped by Starbucks to pick them up some serious caffeine. He got himself an iced white mocha and Em some kind of mocha java thing that she always drank. It was beyond him why both of them preferred cold drinks on already cold mornings, but it was what it was. He also brought her a thick slice of brownie, in case she was still hungry. Knowing Emily, chances were good that she would be.

“Morning,” she greeted, tossing a bag in the back seat of the car. Jon had his own back there, too. It would be pointless to make the hour drive there and back four times, so he and Emily had packed and made reservations at a hotel. It was just easier to be close by for this. He could see she had dressed comfortably, but was never frumpy, in black skinny jeans and a relaxed gray sweater, with her hair pulled up in a ponytail. This would be what Emily called “business casual.”

Jon had dressed in a smart black slacks, his blue button-down shirt with a collar, and his brown knit hat with the bill. He hadn’t been able to shake the habit of wearing a hat when he was going to be around a lot of people. If they didn’t see the scar right away, his shock of blonde hair gave him away.

“You look nice,” she complimented, thanking him for the coffee. “Oh, my God. Is this for me?” she asked, sniffing the air in the car and detecting the scent of the freshly-baked brownie first, and finally spotting it on the dashboard.

Jon nodded, “I had one already. Figured you might need one, though.”

“Well, I already had a huge bowl of cereal, a banana and some juice, courtesy of Christian, but there is always room in this body for chocolate.”

Silence fell as Emily ate, and Jon drove, remembering the last time he had made this trip. He remembered Morgan’s still-not-sober talk of tattoos, not being controlled, of selling herself. He remembered how her hand had rested uncomfortably on his leg, and how, only after he called her out on it, she looked ashamed. It was like finally, for a second, she came back into herself. Jon prayed that by two weeks in, the drugs were finally out of her system, so that she could start to truly heal.

“So, are you ready for this?” Jon asked, trying to keep his nerves hidden. He hadn’t slept well since Morgan had been checked in here. He hoped that seeing how she was progressing would put his mind at ease.

“Do you think they’re going to ask us stuff?” Emily asked, uncertain for the first time.

“They’ll ask us to participate,” Jon said easily. “And we will.”

Quiet enveloped the car for the rest of the ride. Jon’s mind wandered, until he remembered that he ought to pray. He needed as much strength as God could spare for this. As much humility, compassion and love, too.

--

Morgan was messing with her hair. Really, the last thing she needed to be doing was worrying about the fact that she didn’t have a hat today. It was the start of Family Week, and none of her family was coming. She supposed that would be okay. A lot of the ladies here didn’t have their families coming either. But a lot of them didn’t have families. Morgan did. Hers just refused to come, saying there was no point since she obviously wanted to waste her life. When she pressed, they admitted it was too expensive.

She had no idea how they managed extravagant vacations to Mexican resorts but couldn’t somehow find the money to be here for something as important as this. But, she guessed, they had a right to be mad. As Morgan was learning, whatever the reason she had started using, it wasn’t an excuse. So, she would have to learn to make her own way now, and make better choices and be the adult she was.

The last people she expected to see, while waiting in the lobby to show support to everyone else who had family there, were Emily and Jonathan. She had thought no one was coming for her, and definitely didn’t anticipate her friends dropping everything for her for four days. That wasn’t even factoring in the money. Jon had done more than enough in helping to save her life, and Emily had been nothing but sweet and supportive, never asking Morgan questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

“What are you guys doing here?” she asked, her face breaking into a wide smile. Now, she sort of wished she had dressed up a little more. She was in tennis shoes, jeans and an old turquoise tee shirt with PEACE AND LOVE stenciled in yellow letters on the front. Emily and Jon looked fit to attend a series of business meetings.

“Legend mentioned it to you,” Emily reminded, enfolding Morgan in a hug. “Coby, too.”

“Sorry, my short-term memory kind of sucks still,” Morgan acknowledged, clearing her throat and sending Jon a wave.

Even though she hadn’t seen him since he dropped her off, Morgan found she still didn’t she could trust herself to touch him and not push things. Luckily, Jon was cool and waved back. Then, he extended a hand, a questioning expression on his face.

Morgan laughed and shook his hand firmly. “Thank you so much for coming. You didn’t have to at all, but I’m so glad you did.”

The two of them joined Morgan for breakfast, Emily sending a conspiratorial smile to Jonathan.

“What?” Morgan asked, shoveling scrambled eggs onto her fork.

“Well,” Jon divulged, his tone secretive, too. “This will be Em’s third breakfast since she got up this morning.”

“No way,” Morgan denied. Emily was known to put away a lot of food, but even that was a little excessive for her. “Are you going to be okay, or will Jonathan have to roll you home tonight?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Emily assured her. She took a bite of the hash browns just because they looked so good, even though she was beyond full. “Mmm,” she groaned.

“We gotta eat fast. Things are going to start soon. Are you two going to want anything? Coffee for the road?” she asked, surprising them both.

It was then that Jon realized that coffee was actually brewing, and Morgan wasn’t freaking out. “Seriously? Are you kicking all your issues to the curb at once?” he asked, impressed.

“That’s kind of the idea, yeah,” Morgan nodded. She glanced at Emily and smiled, “Just wait ‘til you can tell the girls they can make coffee again. Ooh, maybe not. I forgot Lib. Well, maybe I can talk to her. Tell her how I‘m dealing with it.”

“Pizza?” Emily hedged. She didn’t want to wreck the fun spirit of the conversation, but she needed to know. She loved pizza with a passion, and missed being able to eat it with her friends.

“Yeah, I’ve had that here, too.” Morgan smiled, taking Emily’s hand and squeezing it.

“That’s awesome. I’m proud of you,” Jon told her sincerely, instead of asking her how she was doing dealing with her addiction and withdrawals and stuff.

He had hated it when he told his family he was able to go back and actually sit through one class and their immediate response had been, “Well, when will you be able to go back full-time?” Jon knew they loved him. That wasn’t the issue. It was that they didn’t realize what a huge accomplishment it was for Jon to be able to sit through a class and not need to excuse himself for any reason. Because of that, he made a point to really try and take the positive things as the big accomplishments that they were.

Then, Jon and Emily were split up from Morgan and they went to their own lecture, while Morgan went to hers. Emily and Jonathan learned that addiction was a disease, which was something they had always heard, but never fully grasped until seeing the lit up brain scans of addicts when they were shown a picture of their drug of choice. Beside the lit-up brain, their was a regular brain of someone who wasn’t an addict, being shown the same drug.

Emily felt sure that she wouldn’t be able to look at their medicine cabinet at home without thinking about Morgan’s brain, lit up like a Christmas tree, because it was triggered and craving pills and stuff. It was sad, but it was reality, and Emily was paying attention.

They learned that they couldn’t control Morgan’s using, that they didn’t cause it, and they couldn’t cure it. They learned about acceptance and responsibility, and what it meant to detach with love.

The concept of detaching himself from someone who obviously needed so much help and support was foreign to Jon, but he struggled to stay open to it, and listened until he realized that it did make sense. They couldn’t all be so entwined in this aspect of Morgan’s life. This was her battle and her demon to beat. That didn’t mean Emily, Jon and the rest couldn’t be there to show support, but they weren’t supposed to be breathing down her neck about it, or letting her suck them into her manipulating mentality, especially if she relapsed. And, they were warned, relapse was common.

Jon and Emily went to bed that night, both too exhausted even to dream. They were back at 7:30 the next morning for breakfast, and then headed off to their own sessions. That day they heard horrifying stories from people who were addicts. Stories of the crazy situations they got themselves into, and shocking things they did when they were high.

They got used to introducing themselves as “Jonathan” or “Emily - friend of a drug addict.” At first the words were hard to say, but hearing the room full of family members saying similar things about their loved ones, it got a little easier.

That was also the day they saw the role-plays about what it was like for a drug addict or alcoholic to deal with their chosen substance. How difficult it was to turn down. The whole experience was eye-opening.

--

Next on the agenda, and one of the last things they did was speak to the counselor on day three, with Morgan. About the plan of action once she came home. What she wanted to happen if she should relapse. In short, all the unpleasant stuff that no one wanted to talk about, but they all needed to discuss.

“I really want to be held accountable, if that’s cool with you guys,” Morgan told them candidly. “I’m not saying that you need to be responsible for me, because this is my thing. But I don’t want you to be afraid to ask me if I took anything.”

“But…won’t you lie?” Emily asked cautiously.

“I hide it well, but if you ask me straight out, it’s hard for me to lie.”

“You don’t really want us to ask, though,” Jon pointed out.

“No…” Morgan admitted. “The addict in me really doesn’t want you to be involved in anything. That part of me wants to be left the hell alone to do whatever I want. But I want you to do this. If I did something, or I’m planning to do something, I’ll be pissy or try to play it off like it’s nothing. If I’m really cool then I’ll answer you straight.”

“We’ll see,” Jon nodded, skeptically.

“You have no reason to trust me,” Morgan nodded, “And you shouldn’t. I’m two weeks clean and sober. I have at least two more weeks here and then some time in a sober house after that, hopefully.”

“What if you mess up again?” Emily asked carefully.

“If I relapse?” Morgan clarified. “I want to be called out on it. Confronted.”

Jonathan closed his eyes. “Okay,” he nodded.

“If you use at our house, though,” Emily warned. “You’ll be out the door.”

--

On day four, Jonathan and Emily were finally reunited with Morgan for more than just meals. They sat in on, and were quite involved in, a session with Morgan’s main drug counselor. The first thing they were asked to do was to draw a picture.

The counselor had laid out a huge piece of butcher paper, with markers, crayons, colored pencils and paint and instructed all three of them to draw a separate picture.

Emily set to work immediately, drawing a crazy fun bird with lots of colorful feathers and a broken wing. It was surrounded by lots of other crazy fun birds, made up of different colors and mediums. Hungry ones, with their mouths open. There were lots of worms all around, but the big crazy bird couldn’t get them, but she was acting like she could.

Jon was hard at work on his drawing of a house with many different rooms. It was drawn as if the front wall had been taken off. Like it was a dollhouse, with a full view of what was happening inside. In each room, he drew a little stick person and labeled them with the name of another one of his friends.

He put Jess and Christian in the kitchen, because he read somewhere that the kitchen was the heart of a home. Liam, he stuck in one bedroom. Nate, in another, and so on. Everyone occupied a bedroom except for Jess and Christian. And also Morgan. Because Jon had put Morgan in the bathroom, because he felt like the bathroom symbolized intense privacy, secrecy or shame. He drew himself outside the scene looking in at it.

Morgan had commandeered a whole section of paper and was sprawled on the floor. She had scrawled her own name in big letters, and some distance away, surrounding her name, like a circle, were the names of all her friends. They were running into one another, making one big name instead of so many small ones. She included Christian and Cary and even Liam in the circle, just because it seemed right.

Then, she wrote the word SORRY in loopy letters, extending out from her name, to the names of every single one of her friends. The youngest, the newest, the crappiest. It didn’t matter. Morgan was sorry to them all, and she kept doing it, writing the word over and over until her section of paper resembled a spoked wheel of words.

When her counselor encouraged them to share what they had drawn, Jon went first, pointing out his little house, and everyone in their own little rooms.

“Well, I drew a house. Pretty basic layout. The kitchen, bedrooms, bathroom. I put each one of us in a separate room, and I’m out here looking in. Pretty much everyone is in a bedroom, except for Jess and Christian, who are in the kitchen, because that’s like the heart of a household, and I feel like Jess is definitely the heart of us. And I put Morgan in the bathroom because I think it’s like, very private, and she wanted to hide things from us. What she was doing. How she really felt… She’s in the bathroom because it’s as secret as you can get, and because she’s ashamed…of what was done to her, and what she’s doing now. And I’m outside because I can see everybody fragmented off in their own space, but I don’t know how to bring them together, or where I fit.”

“Okay. Good,” the counselor nodded, clearly happy with the thought Jonathan had put into his picture.

Emily volunteered to go next. “This is a bird. It’s supposed to be Morgan, I guess. And these other birds are all of us. And Morgan is supposed to take care of all of us but she can’t because her wing is broken. Only we don’t know that, because she’s hiding it. We’re all really hungry, and there’s food here, but we can’t get it because we’ve all been kind of reduced by what we went through. And Morgan I guess, has been relied on more. We’re all relying on just her to take care of us, when we should be relying on each other, and taking a closer look at each other and at Morgan, to see what’s really going on.”

Morgan looked on, stunned at Jon’s portrayal of all of them compartmentalized, grieving by themselves in bedrooms, herself in the bathroom, hiding from all of them, and Jon wondering how to fix everything. And Emily’s startling picture of the pressure she had so often felt, being the strong one that everyone needed, and looked to. While all the time, her wing really was broken, so to speak.

She cleared her throat, uncomfortable. “Well, I’m not really an artist as much as I’m a writer, so this is me,” she pointed to her own name. “And these are all of you in a circle around me. And what’s connecting us,” Morgan managed around the lump that had lodged in her throat, “Is my apology.”

Morgan looked at Jon and Emily, in turn. “I’m so sorry, you guys. I’m sorry for lying to you, for stealing from you. I’m sorry for being selfish and for not reaching out when I needed help. I’m just sorry. So sorry…” she said, swallowing back her tears but failing. They came anyway, just as surely as Emily’s arms came around her, to hold her.

“We love you,” Jon told her honestly, his own voice cracking. “We want you here. Not as our rock, but just as yourself. We miss you.”

Tentatively, Morgan reached out and squeezed his hand.