Coby didn’t tell anyone when he took the day off work the last day of Spring break and drove up to see Morgan. He knew that the girls had all gone up in the middle of the week to visit her, because he had watched Christian for Jess.
Apparently, Morgan was acting more like herself and that was a good thing, but her memory was like a big hole when it came to her what landed her in rehab in the first place. She had vague memories of the Bible study that sent her over the edge, but that was it.
She couldn’t remember anything about the night when Jonathan, Nathaniel and Cary brought her to the hospital, and when the girls showed her the note the guys had found in her sweatshirt, Morgan’s response was genuine surprise. It was like someone else had written it.
Coby had made the long drive in silence. He hadn’t seen Morgan since they had all gone to the study room together. He had thought at the time, that she was handling herself remarkably well. It was only in hindsight that he was able to realize that emotion would have been a good sign. That she wasn’t reacting because she had numbed herself.
He also knew that it could just as easily have been him in this place. He could be the one dealing with being away from his family, away from everything he knew, having destroyed the trust in everyone he was close to. He had dove deep into the bottle after everything happened, and it was only when Bryan caught him after a night at the bar, and been there for him while he got his act together, that Coby was able to admit that he needed help, and started attending meetings and taking his sobriety seriously. It had been three months since he had a drink, and he looked forward to the day when Morgan could also look back on her weeks, months and eventually years clean and sober, and be proud.
He pulled into the parking lot, and grabbed the mail off the front seat. Jess had made it her personal mission to write in a card for Morgan every week, and Christian had gotten into it, too. So there was one from them, a comic that Aaron had saved from the paper, and a letter from Liam, that had been passed along from person to person until Coby had it, since Liam didn’t know the address, and apparently couldn’t ask.
Walking inside, Coby took a deep breath, trying not to be nervous. It was a comfort to know that anonymity was the name of the game here. So that even if he or Morgan were recognized, no one would say anything about it. It was like AA.
He stood in the small line at the visitor’s table, and once he got to the front, he said who he was here to see. He signed in on the visitor’s log, and got a nametag. He wrote JACOB on it and stuck it on his shirt. He let the woman behind the table look at everything he had brought to determine it was safe to come inside. Then, she paged Morgan to make sure she was in the visitor‘s room.
Once he knew she was there, Coby made his way inside. It reminded him of a hotel lobby or of their cafeteria on campus, only with carpeting.
When he glanced up and saw her, Coby’s breath caught. She was dressed in an ankle-length jean skirt and a pink dress shirt with her hair half-up. It was the most feminine Coby had seen her dress since church one Sunday afterward. Well, it was Sunday now. Maybe that explained it.
Her parents were also visiting, which was something he hadn’t expected. He hung back, not wanting to intrude, but Morgan caught sight of him anyway.
“Hey,” she waved, relieved to see a friendly face.
So far, all her parents had done was ask her repeatedly how she could do something like this to them. They told her that she had better be working hard to get her life back on track and she had better have a plan for once she got out, because there was no way they were allowing a drug addict back into the house, with Jason and Alyssa there. They had already kicked Kate out, and as of now, Morgan didn’t have a home with them.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Coby apologized.
“That’s okay,” Morgan’s mom nodded. “We were just leaving.” She dropped her voice as she approached him. “We’re not very impressed with her.”
Coby bit his tongue, so he wouldn’t say what he was thinking. That he wasn’t very impressed with them.
“You know,” her dad said, talking to Coby like they were old buddies. “If she doesn’t stop using, she’ll die.”
He continued past them, not acknowledging the comment, stopping in front of Morgan and tucking his hands in his pockets. He hated feeling this new nervousness around her. Being unsure of how to act, and how she would react. So much of the past months had been a lie, Coby found that he really didn’t know how Morgan was going to be, now that she was coming off everything.
Morgan made the first move, moving to stand alongside Coby and putting one arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. She was being taught all new ways to interact with people, especially men, in the sexual abuse group that she was in. She was learning to take pride in her femininity. It was tough working out all the weird ways her brain equated power and love now, but Morgan was determined.
“Sit down,” she invited, taking a chair across from him. “Thanks so much for coming. I missed you.”
“No problem,” Coby shrugged out of his coat. “How have you been in here?”
Morgan shrugged. “All right, I guess. “That’s the first time I’ve seen my parents. Family Week is next week, and neither one of them want to be here for it, because it’s too expensive and they can’t take off work and a million other excuses.”
“Maybe a couple of us can show up for it. We’re pretty much family, right? Would they allow that?” Coby asked.
“Maybe,” Morgan shrugged. “You guys don’t have to do that, though. This is my life. My mess. I have to fix it.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to fix it alone,” Coby pointed out. “We all want you to get better and succeed at this. We want to support you,” he told her matter-of-factly.
“You shouldn’t have to,” Morgan told him, not meeting his eyes.
There was silence for a minute.
“You look better,” Coby offered finally, unsure if she would take offense. The old Morgan might have come back with a wisecrack. But he wasn’t sure about this Morgan.
“Thanks,” she replied, trying not to blush. “Guess I must’ve looked pretty shitty the last time you saw me, huh?”
Coby didn’t respond. He didn’t know what he could say.
“So, what’s it like here?” he asked, and listened as she explained all the rules, and the boundaries there. How they had to keep their space clean, chairs pushed in, blankets on the bed not touching the floor, or they’d be fined a dollar. She told him about the group she was in and what its theme was.
“It’s kind of fitting for me, because it has a lot of Hawaiian stuff,” she confided. “We never know what the schedule is until the day of, because it can change, and it does. All about one day at a time.”
“I know about that,” Coby nodded.
“Damn, the twelve steps are hard,” she admitted softly drawing a design on the table with her finger. “I’m still not even done with the first one yet,” she told him because he understood.
“You’re supposed to take it slow,” Coby reminded. “It’s good to take your time with this. It’s important.”
“It’s all the Higher Power stuff,” she confessed. “I don’t know where I stand with God. But I went to church today,” she said, brightening. “It was pretty cool. A Catholic one. I sort of wish Bryan was here so I could pick his brain about it. Will you tell him?”
“Sure,” Coby nodded, his heart lifting at the news that Morgan was in church again, just because she used to get so much out of it.
“I couldn’t understand a lot of it because it was in Latin, but the message was just what I needed to hear,” she said, letting her sentence hang. She didn’t really feel comfortable sharing what it was that she had needed to hear, and hoped Coby would be cool with that.
“What’s all that stuff?” she asked, pointing to the small pile of mail on the table.
“From Jess and Christian,” he said handing her a card that had a sad dog on the front and said “Hope you feel better” inside. Jess had written her own message about how much she loved Morgan and was hoping that she was getting everything she could out of the time she had.
Christian had drawn her a picture that Morgan couldn’t identify. It was a green scribble of crayon, with a message underneath.
“I love you. Sorry?” she read, questioning the last word.
“He means he’s sorry you’re sick,” Coby explained. “That’s all we told him. That you’re sick and had to go to the hospital and rehab to get better. Jess went to rehab, so he doesn’t know the difference.”
“Oh,” Morgan nodded. “What’s all the green?” she asked.
“I think that’s supposed to be Hawaii. And the yellow is pineapple,” Coby clarified, smiling.
“How’d he know I’d be missing that?” she asked, closing the card and putting it back in the envelope.
Coby handed her the comic strip Aaron had found in the paper, which made her laugh for the first time Morgan could recall in a long time.
Finally, Morgan’s eyes fell on the last thing. The white envelope with her name scrawled across the front in Liam’s handwriting. She swallowed convulsively.
Though she had little memory of anything that had led her here, she clearly remembered earlier times when she started taking stuff. Just one or two of something here and there, and the way she would cuddle up to him, feeling vaguely sick about it. How no matter how far she took it, Liam never said no.
She went cold, as a memory flashed through her mind. It was disjointed, and fuzzy, but it was there. Liam’s mouth closed over hers. Their skin touching where it shouldn’t have. Him taking her against the closet door and her head smacking it with a sickening thud.
Morgan took the envelope and carefully opened it with shaking hands.
Dear Morgan,
Do you have any idea how much you mean to me? I didn’t. Not until I was about to lose you. You were talking normally and acting like yourself, so I didn’t believe Jon when he told me you were high on whatever you had taken. Only later, when you started flirting with Cary - which is something you would never do, especially with me right in the room. And later when I realized that Jon, Nate and Cary had taken you to the psychiatric wing of the hospital. Anyway, I‘m sorry I didn’t realize you were using.
I want you to know that you that I am praying as hard as my heart will allow for you to get better. To get the help you need. I know I said that if you didn’t go to a Christian treatment center, our relationship would be over. But I realize that I over-reacted. As long as you are getting help, that’s all that matters.
I still love you Morgan. I still want us to be married and have a life and a family together, even though you broke my trust. I‘m praying that God will restore you fully to the Morgan I fell in love with six months ago. The Morgan who runs hard after life and the Lord. The Morgan who isn’t afraid to challenge me in my own walk of faith. The Morgan with high moral standards. When you get your life together, I‘ll be waiting.
Always,
Liam
Morgan shook her head and felt the room spinning. There was no mention of them making out like horn dogs, his hands all over her, his tongue in her mouth. It would be like Liam, though, not to include any detail that might reflect badly on himself.
“Are you okay?” Coby asked gently. He knew a letter from Liam couldn’t be good, but also figured that Morgan wouldn’t be able to resist seeing what he had to say.
“I need to use the phone,” she said thickly, getting up and making her way to the one in the hall that was available for public use.
She felt grateful that all Coby had done was nod. That he hadn’t pushed to know what the letter said, or what was wrong, like Liam surely would have. Jess was lucky to have him.
Grimly, she took the old copy of the Bible study directory out of her pocket. Legend had brought it, so she would have all their numbers, since she wasn’t allowed to have her cell phone inside. Scanning it, she quickly found Jonathan’s number and dialed, cursing softly when it rolled over to voice mail.
“Hey, this is Jonathan. Leave me a message, and I’ll call you back…Maybe…”
“Hey, Jon. It’s Morgan. I just had a quick question, but I’ll call Nate and ask. Miss you guys. I’ll call when I can,” she said and hung up.
She fed the phone some more coins and dialed Nathaniel, waiting impatiently for him to pick up the call.
--
“It’s a beautiful day,” Bono sang from Nate’s cell phone.
U2’s Beautiful Day was an ironic ring tone choice for calls from an unknown number, but Nathaniel liked it. These days, however, he wasn’t too keen on the idea of actually picking up strange phone calls. So, he let Cary do it.
Wordlessly, Nate nudged the phone across the kitchen table, where Cary was sitting sipping some mint tea in honor of the recent Irish holiday, because it was green.
Cary sipped and then hit a button and picked up the call, as if it had come to his own phone. “Hello? This is Cary,” he asked casually.
On the other end of the call, Morgan’s brow crinkled in confusion. The voice that picked up sounded nothing like Nate‘s. The sick feeling in her gut intensified and she felt dirty.
Liam had mentioned a Cary in his letter. Maybe this was him.
“I’m sorry…” she managed. “I must have dialed the wrong number, I was looking for Nathaniel.”
“He’s right here. Can I ask who’s calling?” Cary asked amiably.
Nate looked on, entertained. Cary had this way of engaging just about anyone, even telemarketers, in long, friendly exchanges about nothing in particular. They always ended with Cary politely declining whatever they were selling, but Nate always enjoyed listening to him talk, or ask intriguing questions about whatever random item was being sold.
‘Hey Cary,” Morgan said. She forced herself to be a woman and not hang up like a total loser. “This is Morgan.”
“Oh, hey, girl!” Cary greeted, brightening. “How are you? You sound good.”
“I’m hanging in there. How are you?” she asked, when what she really wanted to ask was who he was. She still had no idea how he was connected to Nate.
“I’m great. I’m Nate’s boyfriend, by the way, in case you were curious,” he told her easily. “Nate’s looking eager to say hi, so I’ll let you guys talk.”
“Hey, Morgan,” Nate greeted quietly. “Are you okay?”
“Well…I’m not sure how to answer that right now, but I had a question for you.”
“Okay,” Nate agreed, waving off Liam, who had begun making random annoying gestures and mouthing Morgan’s name.
“I need to talk to her,” he stage-whispered, standing so close that Nate felt uncomfortable.
“No! Come on! Go away!” Nate told him, still keeping his voice down. He excused himself to his room, leaving the door open long enough for Cary to come in if he wanted and then locking it when he didn’t follow. It would serve Liam right to spend some quality time with a guy like Cary. Maybe Cary would rub off on him. Nate doubted it, but it was nice to hope anyway.
--
Cary sat at the table, his feet propped up on a kitchen chair. His sipped his tea, and looked on, mildly interested as Liam paced the floor and talked to himself.
“So, what’s your deal?” Cary asked, putting his feet on the ground again.
“What business is it of yours?” Liam snapped. “Just because you were there when Jon and Nathaniel took Morgan to the hospital doesn’t mean you were involved! Then or now.”
“Okay,” Cary breathed. “Now that you’ve got that out of your system. What’s your problem.”
“I need to talk to Morgan. I haven’t in forever, and I really need to talk to her. To see if she got my note. If she’s serious about changing or not.”
Cary stood slowly. “First of all, I know you don’t like it,” he said deliberately keeping his cool because Liam had already lost his. “But I am involved. And secondly, what Morgan does is up to her. And it has to be up to her. She can’t be getting clean and sober for you or anybody else but herself. Otherwise, she’ll end up resenting you, and the rehab won‘t have as good a chance at sticking.”
“Thank you, Dr. Phil,” Liam retorted.
“Actually, it was Oprah,” Cary corrected easily, smiling.
“Of course…” Liam sighed, sprawling dejectedly on the couch. “Oprah…”
--
“So, what’s up?” Nate asked, flopping on his bed.
“That night…” Morgan started, nervous already. “I need to know, and I don’t remember,” she divulged, sounding vulnerable and a little scared. “Did Liam and I…I mean… Did he do anything to me? I keep remembering him touching me… Kissing me… But he hasn’t mentioned it, and I just have to know if we, you know, went too far or anything. Not that you would know, but just in case you did…” she trailed off, feeling close to throwing up.
“Cary, Jon and I walked in on both of you,” Nate said softly. “You were both in your underclothes, making out. Jon and I were kind of stunned, but Cary pulled Liam off you. He said you wanted to, and you said you wanted to, but Jon and I knew better. We all know better, Morgan. You don’t like being touched, especially by guys, so if you had said it was okay for some reason, Liam should have known better than to go along with it.”
“But we didn’t…” she stuttered.
“It didn’t look like it, no…” Nate told her honestly.
“Okay,” Morgan breathed, wiping a hand across her brow. “Thanks, Nate. Thank Cary, too. I love you guys. I gotta get back to Coby, though. He’s here for visiting hour.”
“All right,” Nate nodded to himself, jumping a little as Liam pounded on the door whining about how he didn’t have Morgan’s number and he had to talk to her right now. “I love you, too. Take care,” he said, and hung up.
--
As long as Aaron was leading BS, they didn’t have official meeting days or times. Just whenever he felt like it. He invited everyone. Sometimes they came, and sometimes there were only a couple of them. Sometimes, he had an impromptu one at Monday Madness.
Today, it was Sunday, so he decided to have it after Coby came back from visiting Morgan at rehab, to see how she was doing. That way, it would be almost like she was there.
It was almost seven o’clock at night. Jess stayed in that night, getting a full night’s sleep before classes started again, but let him know that she would be praying for all of them, as always, and that if anything came up, the girls would let her know so that she could pray.
Everybody else showed up, though, including Liam, which was a little surprising because of the way he had stormed out the last time. But he came, telling them he was sorry, that he had been very offended, but he and God had talked it over, and now Liam realized that a change in leadership wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
“So, how’s everybody’s week been?” Aaron asked.
“Kind of stressful. I’m not gonna lie,” Libby admitted. “It’s weird with one less person in the house, and thinking about bills and what she’s going to do when she gets back. You know, is she even going to decide to live with us again, or is she going to do something else?”
“Yeah, that would be stressful. We’ll pray about that. Anybody else?” Aaron asked.
“I think that’s really insensitive,” Liam told Libby condescendingly. “Morgan is up at some drug rehab and all you girls can think of is yourselves and your bills. Morgan is fighting for her life. You guys need to wake up,” he said, sitting back. “We need to pray for Morgan. Not for our own agendas.”
“All right. That’s enough,” Aaron said mildly. “You don’t need to put anybody else down in order to make a point.”
“It’s just Libby,’ Liam scoffed, put out already that he was being put in his place by Aaron - who didn’t even know what he was talking about. “We do it all the time.”
“You do it all the time. And you need to stop,” Libby told him, taking strength from Aaron.
Slowly, they went around and shared. Liam was noticeably quiet, sulking, but claiming not to be.
Coby shared the basics of visiting Morgan, refusing to invade her privacy with more than he knew she would be comfortable letting everyone know.
Aaron kept everything low-key and prayed for everyone at the end, including the ones who couldn’t be with them. Morgan, Jess, Christian and Cary all got just as much love as the ones present did. And that was the way Aaron wanted it.
He considered his first official turn as BS leader a resounding success, even if Liam hadn’t stopped glaring the entire time. Aaron had dealt with plenty worse. He could deal with Liam’s attitude.
--
Truth be told, Jonathan hadn’t been sleeping well since Morgan showed up at their place drunk and high off her ass. He forgave her of course. He even understood her reasons, but it hadn’t stopped him from waking up every hour. From having weird dreams that she was trapped behind a wall, clearly in trouble, and he couldn’t get to her.
By Sunday night, he was so exhausted that he fell immediately into a fitful sleep, and a nightmare that he had already lived through once, and had prayed to never live through again.
--
The room was dark. Buddy had only been there a few minutes, but he had already done plenty of damage, shooting Jess, Bryan and Coby, and taking Morgan, Libby, and now Nathaniel behind that damn desk at the front of the room and doing God-knew-what to them.
Jon had been quiet, but waiting for an opening. He got enough courage the third time Buddy disappeared behind the desk to attempt to do something. Someone had to. Otherwise none of them would get out alive. He had tried planning something with Aaron and Bryan, but Bryan was bleeding , and Emily was so terrified that she needed Aaron to constantly be talking to her in order not to completely lose it.
Instead, Jon had looked across to other the other tables. Legend was as still as Jess beneath their table. He prayed she was only playing dead, so she wouldn’t attract attention. Then, he risked a look at the table closest to the door, where Buddy was picking out people to go behind the desk with him.
To Jon’s way of thinking, if Buddy was distracted, then he wasn’t paying attention to the rest of the room. And maybe one of them could make a break for it. Coby caught his eye, and Jon signaled waited for Coby’s nod. But Jon chickened out, and when he whispered something - he couldn’t even remember what now - Buddy had popped his head out and seen Jon in the middle of gesturing at Coby.
“What’s all this shit?” he had asked, and come running forward, slashing Jon down one side of his face. It felt like his skin was burning.
--
Nathaniel sat straight up in bed when he heard Jon scream. The sound terrified him, and the way he said “shit” was the exact same as it had sounded when Nate was sitting behind the desk, where Buddy had left him, and gone to cut Jonathan. Later, he heard Jon had been threatened, too. That Buddy told him he would take Jon next if he didn’t knock off whatever he was doing.
Paralyzed with fear, Nate stayed where he was, not willing to risk checking it out. Just in case it wasn’t Jon dreaming.
Just in case it was real.
--
Liam started awake when Jon screamed, and cursed like he was being hurt. He drifted back to sleep until he heard angry banging on his bedroom door. He sat straight up when his door swung open and Jon lurched inside, holding his face.
“Help me,” he mumbled, sounding weak.
“Jon?” Liam asked dumbfounded. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t very well go back to sleep with Jon wandering around, pounding on doors and yelling curses out for them and the neighbors to hear. “What is it?” he hedged.
But by then, Jonathan had staggered out, apparently too look for help somewhere else. Liam had almost managed to fall back asleep when he heard a crash. He got up, heaving a sigh, and found Jon, tangled in the X-Box controls. He scurried away from them, his face pale and frightened, as if the plastic pieces with buttons meant him serious harm.
“Hey, Jon. Come on, man. Go back to bed, okay? It’s just a dream,” Liam offered mildly not moving from the doorway of the living room.
Blinking heavily, Jon glanced up and his breath caught. “No,” he rasped, seeing a figure lurking in the doorway, just the way Buddy had liked to before he locked them in with him.
Sighing, Liam made his way into the room, figuring he probably needed to actually help Jon back to his room or something. It wasn’t an idea Liam was crazy about, but he would do it, especially if it meant that Liam would be able to get some rest.
“All right. Come on. If you wake people up other than me, it’s not gonna be good. They won’t be as understanding.” Liam claimed, crouching in front of Jon and attempting to pull him up
What Liam wasn’t prepared for was for Jon to go all Street Fighter on him. Jon pushed him away, making a strange choking sound, struggling for breath, but still managed to pull off a punch that knocked Liam’s head back.
“Damn it, Jonathan!” Liam exclaimed, angrily.
Scared beyond anything rational, Jon stumbled backward into the wall, hand still clutched to his face and struggling to breathe. Buddy still had his hand around Jon’s throat, and if he didn’t let go soon, Jon was going to pass out. Then he would bleed to death, and that would be it.
But now he had done something, and pissed Buddy off even worse, so he flinched and waited for the worst. He waited for the shot, or the feeling of the knife against his neck before it was slashed. When neither came, it was little comfort. Jon couldn’t get the darkness, the room, the smells and sounds, out of his mind. His neck hurt and his face burned like it was on fire.
“Please… Please, I swear, I won’t…” Jon murmured, gasping for breath, and still never feeling like he could get enough.
Liam glared at him, flipping on a lamp to examine the blood that trickled from his mouth.
“You know what? You don’t want my help? Fine. You’re on your own,” Liam said darkly, before stalking out of the living room and slamming his bedroom door.
--
Jonathan jerked awake, the gunshot he heard in his dream making his heart race. Making him sure he had just been there, even though he was here at the apartment, inexplicably tangled in cords from the video game console.
Shakily, he made his way back to his room. He moved slowly, quietly, before finally making it. Once inside the safety of his room, he closed the door and locked it, jut to be sure no one could get in. He went and tested his window. That, too, was locked tight.
Finally, he picked up his phone. After scrolling through the numbers several times, he settled on the one at the very top, highlighting Aaron’s name, and waiting.
--
Aaron was already awake, when his phone rang at just before three in the morning.
“Hey, Jon,” he greeted tiredly. “You can’t sleep either?” he guessed.
Jon was silent for a minute. “You’re okay,” he managed, still breathless. “You’re okay? Are you sure?” he asked.
“Whoa, Jon. Yeah, we’re all fine. Are you okay?” he asked. He had gotten phone calls like this from a few friends. Morgan a while back stuck in his mind. He knew the girls often comforted each other. Once, he’d taken a call from Legend himself. But none of the guys had ever called him. And certainly never Jonathan.
“Okay,” Jon gasped, trying to calm down. “I just thought… I was back there. Sorry.”
Aaron sat up. “No, dude. Don’t be sorry. Really. Happens to all of us.”
“Not to me,” Jon managed. “Not for a long time, and never this bad,” he said thickly as tears sprung to his eyes.
“Trust me. It’s okay. We’re all okay, and I can hang with you on the phone as long as you need. I was awake anyway. Kind of nice to have somebody to talk to actually. My own head gets kind of boring after a while.”
“…He cut me. He had his hands around my throat and wouldn’t stop,” Jon rasped.
Aaron was silent, listening, even after it was clear Jon had nothing else to share about his nightmare.
“It felt really real. Shit, I’m still shaking.”
“I have ones like that, too. I think we all do, at some point,” Aaron reassured. “I think it’s kind of normal, given what we went through, and Liam’s little tour before break.”
“Oh, yeah. Forgot about that.” Jon rubbed a hand down the bad side of his face, cringing as he felt his scar. Despite all the good that had come out of the situation, the scar still made him feel ugly, and like less of a person. Especially after a nightmare like that one, where Buddy was right there, and seemed so real.
“I haven’t,” Aaron answered quietly. “Even though we were only in there a few minutes with Em. It was enough to mess me up ever since. My insomnia’s a nice side-effect, especially since all I wanted to do on break was sleep, and can’t even manage that.”
“…I think I punched Liam,” Jon remembered.
Aaron cackled loudly, heedless of the late hour, or his roommates who were sleeping soundly, as far as he knew. “Hey, he probably deserved it. Just look at it that way,” he said easily. “He had to have gotten into your face, right?”
“Yeah, probably,” Jon admitted. “Hey, thanks for talking…and for not making me feel like a total lame-ass for calling you like this.”
“If having a nightmare makes you a lame-ass, I think you’re in good company,” Aaron told him, relaxing against the pillow. Maybe, knowing he wasn’t so alone would help him get some rest.
“Maybe you’re right,” Jon allowed, and hung up, praying the rest of his night would be a peaceful one.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Smoke & Mirrors: Chapter 7
Jon pulled out of the parking lot with Morgan in the passenger seat after her 72 hours was up. The girls had packed for her and gone through her room to make sure they didn’t accidentally pack anything she shouldn’t have.
“So, thanks for doing this…” she trailed off clearing her throat. “Guess I kinda acted like a bitch before. Wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to talk to me after that…”
“Don’t worry about it,” he told her “You didn’t know what you were doing.”
Jon cast a glance at her. She looked pale, with no make up. She only wore blue jeans, a gray tee shirt and her hoodie, that was now drug-free, thanks to Jess. He had already watched Morgan check the pockets, and the bag that had been packed.
“Can we take a detour?” she asked, not five minutes into the ride. She was looking out the window, and saw this great tattoo place. Of course, Jess had repeatedly told her she wasn’t getting a tattoo, and so had the other girls, but Jon didn’t have anything against them as far as she knew.
“Nope,” he said plainly. “No tattoos.”
“Are you serious? I can’t believe Jess told everybody I couldn’t have one! I can have whatever I want, okay? And you’re not stopping me.”
“You’re right,” Jon told her, stopping at a red light. “You could get out right now, and go in there. But think about it. You have no money, no transportation. How would you support yourself?”
Morgan shrugged. “Sell stuff.”
Jon sent her a hard look as he took his foot of the brake and started driving again. “You don’t have any stuff to sell. The girls checked your clothes they packed.”
“Sure, I do,” she said defiantly. “There’s plenty of men who would pay for this.”
But Jon could see her adjusting her ponytail as she said the words.
“Shut up,” he told her sharply.
“Dude, it was a joke! Chill!” she exclaimed.
“Well, it wasn’t funny. Any asshole who would use a woman like that is trash.”
Morgan sat silently in her seat, glaring at Jon. She had already checked to see if they had missed any of the good places she liked to stash things, but there was nothing left. Nothing to distract her from the hellish nightmare her mind and her memories had become.
Casually, she reached out, letting her hand brush Jonathan’s thigh. Even after his jaw tensed, she left it there.
“Morgan,” he managed, as the hand on his thigh started to move.
He pulled the car onto the shoulder of the road. “Take your hand off me. Now,” he told her, keeping his voice level.
She blinked at him, confused. She might have feigned innocence and tried to push things a little further, but his brown eyes blazed, and looked a little dangerous, so she backed off, crossing her arms instead.
“This is gonna be okay,” he told her, softening his tone. “If you’re nervous, you can talk to me. But don’t mess with me. Next time that happens, you’re in the back, behind the passenger seat,” he nodded in the rearview mirror. Then he pulled back onto the road.
Morgan swallowed, as shame rose in her cheeks. She wasn’t used to being called out. She figured, after Buddy, that all guys must want it. After all, Liam never said no. But, Morgan remembered, she always wished that he had.
They drove in silence for a while. Morgan rested her head against the window and tried to sleep, but found it impossible. Even though she was tired, she couldn’t sleep. So, she glanced out the window at the scenery until it made her dizzy.
She turned back to Jon cautiously. “So, will you tell everybody bye for me?” Morgan asked timidly.
“Sure,” Jon agreed, pulling into a McDonald’s drive-thru. “Hey, what do you want? Your last taste of fast food for a while,” he joked, hoping she would take it in the spirit it was meant.
“I guess that means it’s time for a Big Mac,” Morgan sighed, but a smile touched her lips for the first time. Normally, she hated greasy food, but the prospect of not having it for at least thirty day made her crave it. And French fries, and one of those parfait things with the fruit.”
Jon let her get it all, and got just as much himself, but went for a chicken sandwich instead of a burger. He still got the fries though. No matter how health-conscious he pretended to be, he couldn’t resist them.
They were silent until all the food was eaten, and Morgan started to think too much and get agitated again. But she didn’t want to ruin the little bit of normalcy she had with Jon, so she decided she would risk being honest instead of doing something she would regret, or sounding like an idiot.
But before Morgan knew it, they were pulling up in front of this huge-ass place in the middle of the woods that reminded her an awful lot of college.
“It’s beautiful here,” he remarked, parking the car, and slinging her bag over his shoulder.
“Hey, Jon?”
And he turned, to see her standing in the bright sunlight, squinting at him.
“I’m sorry,” she told him plainly, tucking her hands in her pockets. “I’m sorry I got so screwed up. I don’t know what happened. How I got here…” she trailed off, scuffing the toe of one sneaker on the asphalt.
“Well, that’s what you’re here to figure out,” he told her. “Can I hug you goodbye?” he asked, because he wasn’t sure that kind of thing would be allowed once they were inside. It sort of reminded him of prison, with a lot of rules.
“You can say no,” he added.
“No, that’s fine,” she nodded, appreciating that he waited an extra second to be sure, before folding her into his arms.
She stood still, but eventually took her hands out of her pockets to hug him back. She didn’t know if anybody would visit her here. It was a lot farther away. This might be the last time she saw him for a long time.
And she would definitely miss him, Morgan decided. Jon, the guy who always dressed in designer everything, but wore sweats and a tee shirt for this trip. She would miss the way he always looked out for her. The way he always told the truth. The way he was man enough to stand up for her integrity as a woman, when she couldn’t manage to do it for herself. She would even miss how he didn’t put up with any of her shit.
“Tell the girls and Christian I love them. The boys, too,” she said against his shoulder.
When he pulled her back at arm’s length, the question lingering in his eyes, despite Jon’s best efforts to hide it. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering what she would want to say to Liam.
Reading the question in his eyes, Morgan shook her head slightly.
Together, they headed inside, and Jonathan stood beside her, until they told him he had to leave. As he turned to walk away he heard her voice at his back.
“Jonathan.”
He turned one last time, adjusting the bill of his brown knit cap.
“Thank you,” she said honestly.
Nodding slightly, he continued out the door, knowing Morgan had a long journey ahead of her. This was only the first step.
--
Liam grimaced as he walked through the living room. Nathaniel and that Cary were getting entirely too close to each other on the couch, and that was just disgusting, if you asked Liam. But of course, no one did.
And then there was Jon. Ever since he had dropped Morgan off at whatever worldly rehab Jess had found, he had been so quiet and moody. Whenever Liam tried to talk to him about Morgan, Jon gave him these looks that were just rude.
This wasn’t how Liam wanted to be spending his vacation. He needed time to himself, sure. But he couldn’t handle this tension and rejection from Jon, and two men cuddling on his couch. It made Liam regret forgoing the house rules at all, because now he couldn’t very well enforce them, without being labeled a hypocrite.
But it couldn’t be misconstrued as impolite if Liam just asked Nathaniel to tone down the gay stuff. No, Liam decided. It wasn’t. He should be able to walk through his living room without having to look at unnatural acts. He shouldn’t have to be stuck in his room because he was afraid of what he might see if he risked going to other parts of the house.
He stood in the hall, arms crossed, and cleared his throat. Liam glared at the TV that was blaring some awful Will Ferrell movie about an anchorman. Jon even liked it, and had tried to convince Liam to watch it, too, because the rating wasn’t what Liam considered unsavory. But it was still disgusting, the way it encouraged women to be viewed as nothing more than sexual objects in the workplace, and that men were just full of testosterone and couldn’t control themselves.
It was a full sixty seconds before Nathaniel or Cary even glanced his way.
“What’s up?” Cary asked, stretching out on the full length of the couch. Nate was sitting at the other end so their feet met in the middle. It was nice, tangling and untangling them. “Wanna watch?” he asked, gesturing to the screen.
“No, I really wouldn’t,” Liam shook his head, barely concealing his loathing.
“What’s your problem?” Nate asked. It had been a while since he had needed to deal with Liam and his closed-mindedness, but now, with Morgan gone, it seemed that if Liam couldn’t have fun, he didn’t want anyone else having any either.
“Could you guys just…I don’t know…tone down the gay stuff?” Liam asked, as he excused himself to go to the kitchen.
“We’re playing footsie,” Cary told him flatly. “Since when is that gay?”
“Since I have to watch two men do it on my couch,” Liam muttered darkly.
Nathaniel was off the couch before Liam could blink. “After all the crap you did to Morgan and you’re going to dare tell me and my boyfriend what we can and can’t do? I don’t think so.” He’d gotten right into Liam’s face and was glowering down at him with the extra inch or two of height he possessed.
“Calm down, man. You’re so sensitive about everything…” Liam retorted, his tone clearly implying that Nate was overreacting.
“You wanna know something?” Nate asked. “You wanna know how lucky you are that Jonathan and I just didn’t move our asses out of here and leave you to scrape together the rent yourself for the rest of the year? Pretty damn lucky.”
“Oh, like you have anyplace to go,” Liam scoffed.
“He can move in with me anytime. He knows that,” Cary interjected.
“And there’s no way Jonathan would take the pansy’s way out, and not even talk to me first,” Liam spat.
Nathaniel took a meaningful step forward, and Cary got to his feet, but neither was quicker than Jon, who had heard the exchange from the pisser and came out just in time to hear the last comment. Angrily, he stalked up and plowed a fist into Liam’s gut.
“Keep making jack-assed remarks like that…watch what happens…” Jon threatened in a low tone.
On the floor, Liam gasped and coughed. He might just throw up right now. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” he ground out.
“Who’s a damn pansy now?” Nate asked, stepping over Liam on the way out the door.
Cary was at his side in a second, and Jon followed close behind, a can of Coke and an ice cream drumstick in his hand.
“It’s freezing out here, how can you eat that?” Nate wondered, already plotting how he could get a bite when Jonathan wasn’t looking.
“So, where would you go if you moved out?” Cary asked. “I mean, you’re more than welcome to move in with us.”
Jon shrugged. “Probably move in with the other guys. They could use a little class over there. I hear Bryan’s the only one who cleans up anything after himself. Aaron just bitches about it, and Coby will help Jess clean any day of the week, but couldn’t find the hamper if it was two feet in front of him.”
“Gross,” Cary wrinkled his nose at how unkempt the other apartment was. He burst out laughing as Nathaniel managed a bite of Jon’s ice cream cone.
“What the hell?” Jon exclaimed, but he was grinning. “Get your own.”
“No way I’m going back in there with hetero-explosion,” Nate denied. They walked a little farther, stopping at the skate park on 7th Avenue where Morgan skated on her better days.
There was a long pause while no one said anything, just watched the other skaters. Jon handed his ice cream to Nate who licked it thoughtfully.
“So, how was she when you dropped her off?” Nate asked finally. It had been a few days, and Jon hadn’t said a word about it.
“Feisty, with an attitude,” Jon admitted. “She tried to convince me to stop by the damn tattoo place in the ghetto so she could get one before she went. Tried some other shit on me, too. None of it worked.”
“What other shit?” Nate asked crunching into the cone.
Jon’s quiet look said all that Nate and Cary needed to know. “She told me thank you, though. She told us thank you, I guess. And that she’s sorry. She wants you guys to know she loves you.”
“Seems like a tough girl,” Cary mused.
“There’s no one tougher,” Jon nodded.
“I love her, too,” Nate said quietly, staring at the skaters and thinking of the girl he had shared so much with. Who loved him even when he was insecure and shy and didn’t believe he had any worth at all.
Now, it was his turn to give all that love back. To pray and believe that the smoke would dissipate, and the mirror would eventually show the old Morgan.
--
“So, how exactly do you want to do this?” Jess asked.
It was a small miracle that Libby was feeling creative that day, and decided to dedicate all of it to making St. Patrick’s Day decorations and cookies, and apparently, really needed Christian to work as her assistant. It was also a miracle that Christian agreed, because sometimes, especially whenever Jess had someplace to go that wasn’t school or work or the hospital for therapy, he kind of freaked out sometimes. He didn’t like to be away from her more than he had to be.
For some reason, though, her being with Bryan was okay because Bryan was good at taking care of people, like Coby. She talked about it with him the night before, and he had told her that he was already going to ask her if he could be Libby’s trusty assistant.
It worked out well, since Legend was working a lot, and Emily had gone home to spend a little time with her family, and get away from the craziness. She did that sometimes, and Jess couldn’t say she blamed her. Jess might have done the same thing, if she had any family she could count on.
“Well,” Bryan said, setting up all his paperwork and tape-recorder on the table in his kitchen. “I’m just going to test you in different areas to see if I can execute the tests right. It’s not really about you. It’s more about me having the experience dealing with a real person. And since you’re one of the greatest, I figured you wouldn’t be too upset if I messed up or did something wrong,” he smiled endearingly.
“Where’s Aaron today?” Jess asked, looking around. Usually, on vacations, Aaron could be found lounging on the couch watching hours of TV and eating junk, or generally being a pain. She knew Coby was out at a house-painting job.
“Oh, he’s got a ton of schoolwork to catch up on. So, I made him go to the library,” Bryan admitted, flipping through his stacks of notes.
“Poor them,” Jess laughed.
“Well, it’s supposed to be as distraction-free as possible, and I couldn’t have him barging in here to get snacks or hollering at the TV.”
“And Coby’s really distracting,” Jess grinned. “So, it’s a good thing you got rid of him for the day, otherwise, I probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything.”
“Okay, are you ready to start?” he asked.
Jess nodded, and forced herself to stop smiling so much. When it came to Coby it was hard, but she made herself. This was for school, and she wanted Bryan to get a good grade.
“So, first thing’s first,” Bryan explained. “I’m recording this so that I can have a reference when I go back and write the paper. How you did on the tests will be included, but I wont use your name. You don’t need to be nervous.”
“Are you kidding?” she asked, shaking her head. “I could never be nervous with you. Especially if the results don’t matter.”
Jess tried to smile, but the truth was she was nervous. She hadn’t had any kind of test anxiety that she could recall before. Now, the idea that how many wrong answers she got would be recorded, made Jess wish Bryan hadn’t said anything about it.
“Okay,” Bryan smiled. “Here we go,” he said, and pressed a button on the tape-recorder.
--
“I think green bread is kinda gross,” Christian told Libby honestly.
Libby sighed. “Christian. It’s not St. Patrick’s Day without green bread. My parents always got it for me and my brother.”
“But green is like mold. And mold is bad for you,” Christian told her importantly, sitting in the cart while Libby pushed him.
“But this green is from food-coloring. The same that we use to make our cookies green, or green eggs and ham.”
“Is Morgan gonna be home for St. Patrick’s Day?” Christian wondered. I want to show her how good I can skateboard.”
“Nope, Morgan has to stay where she is for a while. She needs a long time to get better, and we want to be sure she’s as better as she can be before she comes home again.”
“But I miss her though. It’s kind of like before when Legend was the only one home with me and everybody else was gone places getting better.”
Libby stopped the cart beside the food coloring and looked at him. “I can’t believe you remember all that.”
“I remember lots of things,” he told her matter-of-factly. “Morgan was gone that time just like she’s gone now.”
“Right, but she came back then, and she’s coming back this time, okay? We just have to be patient.” Libby reassured him. “And somebody will always be able to take care of you.”
“I know that, silly,” he said, smiling, and showing off the gap where he had lost a tooth in his Kix cereal one morning. All the girls had given him a dollar. So he had five of them. It worked pretty good, too, because he was five.
“Excuse me,” a lady with blonde hair and make-up said, bumping her cart into Libby’s.
“Oh, no. Excuse us,” Libby said, moving the cart off to one side so she could get by.
“Are you Elizabeth Wright from the High City campus?” the lady asked in a whisper.
Christian gave Libby a funny look. That’s because nobody called her Elizabeth except for his mom when she got in trouble for sneaking dessert.
“Yes, ma’am,” Libby admitted uncomfortably. This was the consequence, she supposed, for driving a half-hour out of the way for green bread.
“I thought I recognized you!“ she said, her face splitting into a wide knowing grin. “We sure have been praying for you down the street at the Methodist church,” the woman told her somberly. “I can’t imagine going through what you did and coming out of it, well, normally,” she said, keeping her tone low and furtive. “I mean, after what was done to you, and after how long you all spent in that room…” she let the sentence trail, and covered Libby’s hand with her own.
Pulling her hand away, Libby tried to steer the cart around the woman, but she blocked the aisle, having parked her own sideways. A child was inside, a little younger than Christian.
“I mean, in this day and age, I guess anything is possible, but to think that a man like that was walking around,” she shuddered in an exaggerated fashion.
“I appreciate the prayers, but I’d rather not talk about it,” Libby managed, her face flushing. She hated that she was suddenly recognizable to some people, and that they felt like they knew her, even though she had no idea who they were.
“Oh, of course. Would you mind if I prayed for you now?” the lady asked, putting her hand on Libby’s head.
“No, thank you,” Libby said, trying to turn them around, but the lady went right along, praying in some weird language Libby didn’t understand.
Christian scowled at the lady. He didn’t like it when strangers came up to his mom and did this. His mom explained it was because they felt bad about what happened and wanted to help. But sometimes, they didn’t listen when his mom said no to them, either. That’s when Christian used his secret weapon. He decided to use it this time, too.
“Stranger!” he screamed so loud that it made Libby jump. Everybody around them turned to look, and the praying lady took her hand off of Libby’s head.
Leaning down, Libby scooped up Christian from the cart, and carried him out of the store. “Good boy,” he told her, kissing his cheek.
--
Jess was getting a headache.
Bryan had already tested her on word-retrieval, which Jess already knew was spotty, especially if it was a pressure situation. She had blanked on the names of more than one thing he pointed out.
Her speech clarity was okay, so she didn’t really stress about that, but when he made her speak the names of certain things a lot slower, she felt really self-conscious and stupid. But she kept her mouth closed. The last thing she wanted was for him to play the tape back and hear her whining about how she felt dumb.
But when it came time for the test with reading huge numbers out loud, like 3,468 and $2,345.52, Jess was about ready to lose it. Numbers were the thing that had come back the slowest, and she could barely add simple numbers, much less read big ones like that.
“Take your time,” Bryan urged. He could see that this test in particular was stressful, but Jess wasn’t a quitter. He was patient and didn’t do any of the things they were taught not to do like look at his watch or pressure her to get going.
“What do you want to do?” he asked gently after another minute had gone by and Jess still hadn’t read the first number.
“Can you turn this off?” she asked, sounding really close to tears.
Quickly, Bryan reached over and did as she asked. “Sure. What is it?”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “I just need a break.”
Nodding, Bryan went to work, clearing all remnants of the tests, so Jess wouldn’t have to look at them.
“Of course. I’m sorry. I should have asked that myself,” Bryan realized, wincing as his shoulder throbbed unexpectedly.
“I can still finish,” Jess maintained, wiping a hand across her eyes. “I just need, like, a minute. I suck with numbers, still. I can barely add,” she confided as heat flooded her face again.
“Hey, that’s fine. Then, I’ll skip that one. It’s not fair to have you try something you’re not ready for,” Bryan said, making a mental note to himself.
Jess shrugged. “Should have tested me in September. Then, I would have known all the answers.” she said smiling in spite of her tears.
Silently, Bryan covered her hand with his own. “You still like me better than your speech therapist?” he asked wryly.
“Well, you’re definitely nicer…” she admitted, composing herself. “You actually have a soul, and don’t push me when I know I’m done.”
Bryan reached down for his notebook and jotted something down.
“What are you doing now? Quoting me as an ego-boost?” she questioned lightly.
He shook his head. “Nope. Taking points off on my self-evaluation, for not being more attentive.”
“Fine,” Jess nodded. “But I’m giving them back when I do my own evaluation of you. You didn’t forget on purpose.”
--
An hour later, when Jess and Bryan reentered Grand Central, the last thing they expected to smell was sauerkraut and Polish sausage. And they definitely didn’t expect to see Emily in the kitchen. As far as Jess knew, Emily still needed to be told where to find a spoon if she needed one, despite the fact that they only had one drawer.
“I thought we were having green stuff for dinner,” Jess objected, smiling at the sight of Emily at the stove, with sizzling pans around her, wielding a spatula.
“Well, we were,” Emily clarified sweetly, as she took a sleeve of soda crackers and smashed them on the floor. “And then some crazy lady recognized Lib in the grocery store, so they left their cart and came back here. Since she wasn’t in the mood to cook anymore, I said I’d make my specialty. She and Christian are decorating instead.”
“Cholesterol?” Bryan guessed, jumping out of the way when Emily tried to smack him with the spatula.
“No! Polish sausage, scalloped corn and sauerkraut! It’s the best.”
“I thought you were staying with your mom and dad for a bit,” Jess said, taking off her coat.
“Yeah, well. It’s a good thing to make sure they’ll actually be there before driving an hour. And they weren’t. Miles wasn’t either,” she added, including her teenage little brother. “So, I had to turn around and drive all the way back, but it’s really a blessing, because without me, what would we be doing for supper?”
“I have no idea…” Jess said, shaking her head.
--
Legend was driving home from work when her phone rang, showing an unfamiliar number. Usually, she ignored calls she didn’t recognize but with Morgan gone, Legend had started picking up every call, just in case.
“Hello?” she said, pulling her truck onto the main road that would lead her back home.
“Hey, Legend,” Morgan said, sniffling.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?” she asked, not able to completely shake the suspicion or the bitterness that came up when she spoke to her friend now. It came right along with the fierce protectiveness and love Legend felt.
“This is really dumb,” Morgan managed. “Because I’m so grateful for everything you guys have done for me.”
Legend waited, not saying anything. With Morgan, especially now, Legend had no idea whether she would lie or be truthful.
“I mean, I love you guys. I really do. But…” she seemed to force the word out. “I miss my mom and dad. I miss my family…” she trailed off, breaking down.
Legend was silent, pulling the truck into her parking space and turning it off.
“They always said they’d be here for me, no matter what, and now they don’t want anything to do with me. They just call to yell at me and tell me how bad I screwed up and how bad it makes them look. They said I‘m not their daughter…” Morgan said, her voice breaking.
Sitting quietly, Legend rested her head on the steering wheel and wept, too. She couldn’t imagine her own parents saying the same to her, especially if she was dealing with the toughest thing she had ever dealt with. Even though it was difficult, she was glad to hear from Morgan when she was starting to really feel things again, instead of burying them. To Legend, it was the first, true sign of healing.
“They love you,” she insisted, listening to Morgan try to compose herself. “You need to trust that. And know that even if they stop, that God never will. You’ll always be His daughter.”
“I don’t want to be His daughter,” Morgan said brokenly. “He left me.”
“No. He never has left you, and He never will. And ,want to be or not, you are His daughter. He loves you, no matter what,” Legend told her firmly. “How are those twelve steps going?”
“Slow,” Morgan admitted. “I’ve only been here a couple days, and I’m already overwhelmed. I don’t want to let go of the control. Otherwise, who knows? You know?”
“Keep working on it,” Legend encouraged. “Remember that God knows, and He loves you. And remember that even if your family never comes around, that you have us.”
“Okay,” Morgan nodded. “Well, I have to go soon but how are you guys?”
“We’re good,” Legend answered, keeping things simple. “I think Jon and Emily are planning on coming to your family week. And…I just got a text message before you called that says Emily’s taken over the kitchen, and is making dinner. German food,” she shuddered.
“How come she never cooked when I lived there?” Morgan asked, laughing a little.
“Hey, you’re lucky. Trust me.” Legend said laughing. But she grew serious, telling Morgan, “I love you. We all love you. Okay? Work hard, and stop fighting so hard. You’re safe there.”
“I’m trying,” Morgan said honestly and hung up.
She felt a little stronger now. Like maybe, with her friends’ support - and God, if He was here - she could start dealing with her demons.
“So, thanks for doing this…” she trailed off clearing her throat. “Guess I kinda acted like a bitch before. Wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to talk to me after that…”
“Don’t worry about it,” he told her “You didn’t know what you were doing.”
Jon cast a glance at her. She looked pale, with no make up. She only wore blue jeans, a gray tee shirt and her hoodie, that was now drug-free, thanks to Jess. He had already watched Morgan check the pockets, and the bag that had been packed.
“Can we take a detour?” she asked, not five minutes into the ride. She was looking out the window, and saw this great tattoo place. Of course, Jess had repeatedly told her she wasn’t getting a tattoo, and so had the other girls, but Jon didn’t have anything against them as far as she knew.
“Nope,” he said plainly. “No tattoos.”
“Are you serious? I can’t believe Jess told everybody I couldn’t have one! I can have whatever I want, okay? And you’re not stopping me.”
“You’re right,” Jon told her, stopping at a red light. “You could get out right now, and go in there. But think about it. You have no money, no transportation. How would you support yourself?”
Morgan shrugged. “Sell stuff.”
Jon sent her a hard look as he took his foot of the brake and started driving again. “You don’t have any stuff to sell. The girls checked your clothes they packed.”
“Sure, I do,” she said defiantly. “There’s plenty of men who would pay for this.”
But Jon could see her adjusting her ponytail as she said the words.
“Shut up,” he told her sharply.
“Dude, it was a joke! Chill!” she exclaimed.
“Well, it wasn’t funny. Any asshole who would use a woman like that is trash.”
Morgan sat silently in her seat, glaring at Jon. She had already checked to see if they had missed any of the good places she liked to stash things, but there was nothing left. Nothing to distract her from the hellish nightmare her mind and her memories had become.
Casually, she reached out, letting her hand brush Jonathan’s thigh. Even after his jaw tensed, she left it there.
“Morgan,” he managed, as the hand on his thigh started to move.
He pulled the car onto the shoulder of the road. “Take your hand off me. Now,” he told her, keeping his voice level.
She blinked at him, confused. She might have feigned innocence and tried to push things a little further, but his brown eyes blazed, and looked a little dangerous, so she backed off, crossing her arms instead.
“This is gonna be okay,” he told her, softening his tone. “If you’re nervous, you can talk to me. But don’t mess with me. Next time that happens, you’re in the back, behind the passenger seat,” he nodded in the rearview mirror. Then he pulled back onto the road.
Morgan swallowed, as shame rose in her cheeks. She wasn’t used to being called out. She figured, after Buddy, that all guys must want it. After all, Liam never said no. But, Morgan remembered, she always wished that he had.
They drove in silence for a while. Morgan rested her head against the window and tried to sleep, but found it impossible. Even though she was tired, she couldn’t sleep. So, she glanced out the window at the scenery until it made her dizzy.
She turned back to Jon cautiously. “So, will you tell everybody bye for me?” Morgan asked timidly.
“Sure,” Jon agreed, pulling into a McDonald’s drive-thru. “Hey, what do you want? Your last taste of fast food for a while,” he joked, hoping she would take it in the spirit it was meant.
“I guess that means it’s time for a Big Mac,” Morgan sighed, but a smile touched her lips for the first time. Normally, she hated greasy food, but the prospect of not having it for at least thirty day made her crave it. And French fries, and one of those parfait things with the fruit.”
Jon let her get it all, and got just as much himself, but went for a chicken sandwich instead of a burger. He still got the fries though. No matter how health-conscious he pretended to be, he couldn’t resist them.
They were silent until all the food was eaten, and Morgan started to think too much and get agitated again. But she didn’t want to ruin the little bit of normalcy she had with Jon, so she decided she would risk being honest instead of doing something she would regret, or sounding like an idiot.
But before Morgan knew it, they were pulling up in front of this huge-ass place in the middle of the woods that reminded her an awful lot of college.
“It’s beautiful here,” he remarked, parking the car, and slinging her bag over his shoulder.
“Hey, Jon?”
And he turned, to see her standing in the bright sunlight, squinting at him.
“I’m sorry,” she told him plainly, tucking her hands in her pockets. “I’m sorry I got so screwed up. I don’t know what happened. How I got here…” she trailed off, scuffing the toe of one sneaker on the asphalt.
“Well, that’s what you’re here to figure out,” he told her. “Can I hug you goodbye?” he asked, because he wasn’t sure that kind of thing would be allowed once they were inside. It sort of reminded him of prison, with a lot of rules.
“You can say no,” he added.
“No, that’s fine,” she nodded, appreciating that he waited an extra second to be sure, before folding her into his arms.
She stood still, but eventually took her hands out of her pockets to hug him back. She didn’t know if anybody would visit her here. It was a lot farther away. This might be the last time she saw him for a long time.
And she would definitely miss him, Morgan decided. Jon, the guy who always dressed in designer everything, but wore sweats and a tee shirt for this trip. She would miss the way he always looked out for her. The way he always told the truth. The way he was man enough to stand up for her integrity as a woman, when she couldn’t manage to do it for herself. She would even miss how he didn’t put up with any of her shit.
“Tell the girls and Christian I love them. The boys, too,” she said against his shoulder.
When he pulled her back at arm’s length, the question lingering in his eyes, despite Jon’s best efforts to hide it. He couldn’t stop himself from wondering what she would want to say to Liam.
Reading the question in his eyes, Morgan shook her head slightly.
Together, they headed inside, and Jonathan stood beside her, until they told him he had to leave. As he turned to walk away he heard her voice at his back.
“Jonathan.”
He turned one last time, adjusting the bill of his brown knit cap.
“Thank you,” she said honestly.
Nodding slightly, he continued out the door, knowing Morgan had a long journey ahead of her. This was only the first step.
--
Liam grimaced as he walked through the living room. Nathaniel and that Cary were getting entirely too close to each other on the couch, and that was just disgusting, if you asked Liam. But of course, no one did.
And then there was Jon. Ever since he had dropped Morgan off at whatever worldly rehab Jess had found, he had been so quiet and moody. Whenever Liam tried to talk to him about Morgan, Jon gave him these looks that were just rude.
This wasn’t how Liam wanted to be spending his vacation. He needed time to himself, sure. But he couldn’t handle this tension and rejection from Jon, and two men cuddling on his couch. It made Liam regret forgoing the house rules at all, because now he couldn’t very well enforce them, without being labeled a hypocrite.
But it couldn’t be misconstrued as impolite if Liam just asked Nathaniel to tone down the gay stuff. No, Liam decided. It wasn’t. He should be able to walk through his living room without having to look at unnatural acts. He shouldn’t have to be stuck in his room because he was afraid of what he might see if he risked going to other parts of the house.
He stood in the hall, arms crossed, and cleared his throat. Liam glared at the TV that was blaring some awful Will Ferrell movie about an anchorman. Jon even liked it, and had tried to convince Liam to watch it, too, because the rating wasn’t what Liam considered unsavory. But it was still disgusting, the way it encouraged women to be viewed as nothing more than sexual objects in the workplace, and that men were just full of testosterone and couldn’t control themselves.
It was a full sixty seconds before Nathaniel or Cary even glanced his way.
“What’s up?” Cary asked, stretching out on the full length of the couch. Nate was sitting at the other end so their feet met in the middle. It was nice, tangling and untangling them. “Wanna watch?” he asked, gesturing to the screen.
“No, I really wouldn’t,” Liam shook his head, barely concealing his loathing.
“What’s your problem?” Nate asked. It had been a while since he had needed to deal with Liam and his closed-mindedness, but now, with Morgan gone, it seemed that if Liam couldn’t have fun, he didn’t want anyone else having any either.
“Could you guys just…I don’t know…tone down the gay stuff?” Liam asked, as he excused himself to go to the kitchen.
“We’re playing footsie,” Cary told him flatly. “Since when is that gay?”
“Since I have to watch two men do it on my couch,” Liam muttered darkly.
Nathaniel was off the couch before Liam could blink. “After all the crap you did to Morgan and you’re going to dare tell me and my boyfriend what we can and can’t do? I don’t think so.” He’d gotten right into Liam’s face and was glowering down at him with the extra inch or two of height he possessed.
“Calm down, man. You’re so sensitive about everything…” Liam retorted, his tone clearly implying that Nate was overreacting.
“You wanna know something?” Nate asked. “You wanna know how lucky you are that Jonathan and I just didn’t move our asses out of here and leave you to scrape together the rent yourself for the rest of the year? Pretty damn lucky.”
“Oh, like you have anyplace to go,” Liam scoffed.
“He can move in with me anytime. He knows that,” Cary interjected.
“And there’s no way Jonathan would take the pansy’s way out, and not even talk to me first,” Liam spat.
Nathaniel took a meaningful step forward, and Cary got to his feet, but neither was quicker than Jon, who had heard the exchange from the pisser and came out just in time to hear the last comment. Angrily, he stalked up and plowed a fist into Liam’s gut.
“Keep making jack-assed remarks like that…watch what happens…” Jon threatened in a low tone.
On the floor, Liam gasped and coughed. He might just throw up right now. “I didn’t mean anything by it,” he ground out.
“Who’s a damn pansy now?” Nate asked, stepping over Liam on the way out the door.
Cary was at his side in a second, and Jon followed close behind, a can of Coke and an ice cream drumstick in his hand.
“It’s freezing out here, how can you eat that?” Nate wondered, already plotting how he could get a bite when Jonathan wasn’t looking.
“So, where would you go if you moved out?” Cary asked. “I mean, you’re more than welcome to move in with us.”
Jon shrugged. “Probably move in with the other guys. They could use a little class over there. I hear Bryan’s the only one who cleans up anything after himself. Aaron just bitches about it, and Coby will help Jess clean any day of the week, but couldn’t find the hamper if it was two feet in front of him.”
“Gross,” Cary wrinkled his nose at how unkempt the other apartment was. He burst out laughing as Nathaniel managed a bite of Jon’s ice cream cone.
“What the hell?” Jon exclaimed, but he was grinning. “Get your own.”
“No way I’m going back in there with hetero-explosion,” Nate denied. They walked a little farther, stopping at the skate park on 7th Avenue where Morgan skated on her better days.
There was a long pause while no one said anything, just watched the other skaters. Jon handed his ice cream to Nate who licked it thoughtfully.
“So, how was she when you dropped her off?” Nate asked finally. It had been a few days, and Jon hadn’t said a word about it.
“Feisty, with an attitude,” Jon admitted. “She tried to convince me to stop by the damn tattoo place in the ghetto so she could get one before she went. Tried some other shit on me, too. None of it worked.”
“What other shit?” Nate asked crunching into the cone.
Jon’s quiet look said all that Nate and Cary needed to know. “She told me thank you, though. She told us thank you, I guess. And that she’s sorry. She wants you guys to know she loves you.”
“Seems like a tough girl,” Cary mused.
“There’s no one tougher,” Jon nodded.
“I love her, too,” Nate said quietly, staring at the skaters and thinking of the girl he had shared so much with. Who loved him even when he was insecure and shy and didn’t believe he had any worth at all.
Now, it was his turn to give all that love back. To pray and believe that the smoke would dissipate, and the mirror would eventually show the old Morgan.
--
“So, how exactly do you want to do this?” Jess asked.
It was a small miracle that Libby was feeling creative that day, and decided to dedicate all of it to making St. Patrick’s Day decorations and cookies, and apparently, really needed Christian to work as her assistant. It was also a miracle that Christian agreed, because sometimes, especially whenever Jess had someplace to go that wasn’t school or work or the hospital for therapy, he kind of freaked out sometimes. He didn’t like to be away from her more than he had to be.
For some reason, though, her being with Bryan was okay because Bryan was good at taking care of people, like Coby. She talked about it with him the night before, and he had told her that he was already going to ask her if he could be Libby’s trusty assistant.
It worked out well, since Legend was working a lot, and Emily had gone home to spend a little time with her family, and get away from the craziness. She did that sometimes, and Jess couldn’t say she blamed her. Jess might have done the same thing, if she had any family she could count on.
“Well,” Bryan said, setting up all his paperwork and tape-recorder on the table in his kitchen. “I’m just going to test you in different areas to see if I can execute the tests right. It’s not really about you. It’s more about me having the experience dealing with a real person. And since you’re one of the greatest, I figured you wouldn’t be too upset if I messed up or did something wrong,” he smiled endearingly.
“Where’s Aaron today?” Jess asked, looking around. Usually, on vacations, Aaron could be found lounging on the couch watching hours of TV and eating junk, or generally being a pain. She knew Coby was out at a house-painting job.
“Oh, he’s got a ton of schoolwork to catch up on. So, I made him go to the library,” Bryan admitted, flipping through his stacks of notes.
“Poor them,” Jess laughed.
“Well, it’s supposed to be as distraction-free as possible, and I couldn’t have him barging in here to get snacks or hollering at the TV.”
“And Coby’s really distracting,” Jess grinned. “So, it’s a good thing you got rid of him for the day, otherwise, I probably wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything.”
“Okay, are you ready to start?” he asked.
Jess nodded, and forced herself to stop smiling so much. When it came to Coby it was hard, but she made herself. This was for school, and she wanted Bryan to get a good grade.
“So, first thing’s first,” Bryan explained. “I’m recording this so that I can have a reference when I go back and write the paper. How you did on the tests will be included, but I wont use your name. You don’t need to be nervous.”
“Are you kidding?” she asked, shaking her head. “I could never be nervous with you. Especially if the results don’t matter.”
Jess tried to smile, but the truth was she was nervous. She hadn’t had any kind of test anxiety that she could recall before. Now, the idea that how many wrong answers she got would be recorded, made Jess wish Bryan hadn’t said anything about it.
“Okay,” Bryan smiled. “Here we go,” he said, and pressed a button on the tape-recorder.
--
“I think green bread is kinda gross,” Christian told Libby honestly.
Libby sighed. “Christian. It’s not St. Patrick’s Day without green bread. My parents always got it for me and my brother.”
“But green is like mold. And mold is bad for you,” Christian told her importantly, sitting in the cart while Libby pushed him.
“But this green is from food-coloring. The same that we use to make our cookies green, or green eggs and ham.”
“Is Morgan gonna be home for St. Patrick’s Day?” Christian wondered. I want to show her how good I can skateboard.”
“Nope, Morgan has to stay where she is for a while. She needs a long time to get better, and we want to be sure she’s as better as she can be before she comes home again.”
“But I miss her though. It’s kind of like before when Legend was the only one home with me and everybody else was gone places getting better.”
Libby stopped the cart beside the food coloring and looked at him. “I can’t believe you remember all that.”
“I remember lots of things,” he told her matter-of-factly. “Morgan was gone that time just like she’s gone now.”
“Right, but she came back then, and she’s coming back this time, okay? We just have to be patient.” Libby reassured him. “And somebody will always be able to take care of you.”
“I know that, silly,” he said, smiling, and showing off the gap where he had lost a tooth in his Kix cereal one morning. All the girls had given him a dollar. So he had five of them. It worked pretty good, too, because he was five.
“Excuse me,” a lady with blonde hair and make-up said, bumping her cart into Libby’s.
“Oh, no. Excuse us,” Libby said, moving the cart off to one side so she could get by.
“Are you Elizabeth Wright from the High City campus?” the lady asked in a whisper.
Christian gave Libby a funny look. That’s because nobody called her Elizabeth except for his mom when she got in trouble for sneaking dessert.
“Yes, ma’am,” Libby admitted uncomfortably. This was the consequence, she supposed, for driving a half-hour out of the way for green bread.
“I thought I recognized you!“ she said, her face splitting into a wide knowing grin. “We sure have been praying for you down the street at the Methodist church,” the woman told her somberly. “I can’t imagine going through what you did and coming out of it, well, normally,” she said, keeping her tone low and furtive. “I mean, after what was done to you, and after how long you all spent in that room…” she let the sentence trail, and covered Libby’s hand with her own.
Pulling her hand away, Libby tried to steer the cart around the woman, but she blocked the aisle, having parked her own sideways. A child was inside, a little younger than Christian.
“I mean, in this day and age, I guess anything is possible, but to think that a man like that was walking around,” she shuddered in an exaggerated fashion.
“I appreciate the prayers, but I’d rather not talk about it,” Libby managed, her face flushing. She hated that she was suddenly recognizable to some people, and that they felt like they knew her, even though she had no idea who they were.
“Oh, of course. Would you mind if I prayed for you now?” the lady asked, putting her hand on Libby’s head.
“No, thank you,” Libby said, trying to turn them around, but the lady went right along, praying in some weird language Libby didn’t understand.
Christian scowled at the lady. He didn’t like it when strangers came up to his mom and did this. His mom explained it was because they felt bad about what happened and wanted to help. But sometimes, they didn’t listen when his mom said no to them, either. That’s when Christian used his secret weapon. He decided to use it this time, too.
“Stranger!” he screamed so loud that it made Libby jump. Everybody around them turned to look, and the praying lady took her hand off of Libby’s head.
Leaning down, Libby scooped up Christian from the cart, and carried him out of the store. “Good boy,” he told her, kissing his cheek.
--
Jess was getting a headache.
Bryan had already tested her on word-retrieval, which Jess already knew was spotty, especially if it was a pressure situation. She had blanked on the names of more than one thing he pointed out.
Her speech clarity was okay, so she didn’t really stress about that, but when he made her speak the names of certain things a lot slower, she felt really self-conscious and stupid. But she kept her mouth closed. The last thing she wanted was for him to play the tape back and hear her whining about how she felt dumb.
But when it came time for the test with reading huge numbers out loud, like 3,468 and $2,345.52, Jess was about ready to lose it. Numbers were the thing that had come back the slowest, and she could barely add simple numbers, much less read big ones like that.
“Take your time,” Bryan urged. He could see that this test in particular was stressful, but Jess wasn’t a quitter. He was patient and didn’t do any of the things they were taught not to do like look at his watch or pressure her to get going.
“What do you want to do?” he asked gently after another minute had gone by and Jess still hadn’t read the first number.
“Can you turn this off?” she asked, sounding really close to tears.
Quickly, Bryan reached over and did as she asked. “Sure. What is it?”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “I just need a break.”
Nodding, Bryan went to work, clearing all remnants of the tests, so Jess wouldn’t have to look at them.
“Of course. I’m sorry. I should have asked that myself,” Bryan realized, wincing as his shoulder throbbed unexpectedly.
“I can still finish,” Jess maintained, wiping a hand across her eyes. “I just need, like, a minute. I suck with numbers, still. I can barely add,” she confided as heat flooded her face again.
“Hey, that’s fine. Then, I’ll skip that one. It’s not fair to have you try something you’re not ready for,” Bryan said, making a mental note to himself.
Jess shrugged. “Should have tested me in September. Then, I would have known all the answers.” she said smiling in spite of her tears.
Silently, Bryan covered her hand with his own. “You still like me better than your speech therapist?” he asked wryly.
“Well, you’re definitely nicer…” she admitted, composing herself. “You actually have a soul, and don’t push me when I know I’m done.”
Bryan reached down for his notebook and jotted something down.
“What are you doing now? Quoting me as an ego-boost?” she questioned lightly.
He shook his head. “Nope. Taking points off on my self-evaluation, for not being more attentive.”
“Fine,” Jess nodded. “But I’m giving them back when I do my own evaluation of you. You didn’t forget on purpose.”
--
An hour later, when Jess and Bryan reentered Grand Central, the last thing they expected to smell was sauerkraut and Polish sausage. And they definitely didn’t expect to see Emily in the kitchen. As far as Jess knew, Emily still needed to be told where to find a spoon if she needed one, despite the fact that they only had one drawer.
“I thought we were having green stuff for dinner,” Jess objected, smiling at the sight of Emily at the stove, with sizzling pans around her, wielding a spatula.
“Well, we were,” Emily clarified sweetly, as she took a sleeve of soda crackers and smashed them on the floor. “And then some crazy lady recognized Lib in the grocery store, so they left their cart and came back here. Since she wasn’t in the mood to cook anymore, I said I’d make my specialty. She and Christian are decorating instead.”
“Cholesterol?” Bryan guessed, jumping out of the way when Emily tried to smack him with the spatula.
“No! Polish sausage, scalloped corn and sauerkraut! It’s the best.”
“I thought you were staying with your mom and dad for a bit,” Jess said, taking off her coat.
“Yeah, well. It’s a good thing to make sure they’ll actually be there before driving an hour. And they weren’t. Miles wasn’t either,” she added, including her teenage little brother. “So, I had to turn around and drive all the way back, but it’s really a blessing, because without me, what would we be doing for supper?”
“I have no idea…” Jess said, shaking her head.
--
Legend was driving home from work when her phone rang, showing an unfamiliar number. Usually, she ignored calls she didn’t recognize but with Morgan gone, Legend had started picking up every call, just in case.
“Hello?” she said, pulling her truck onto the main road that would lead her back home.
“Hey, Legend,” Morgan said, sniffling.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?” she asked, not able to completely shake the suspicion or the bitterness that came up when she spoke to her friend now. It came right along with the fierce protectiveness and love Legend felt.
“This is really dumb,” Morgan managed. “Because I’m so grateful for everything you guys have done for me.”
Legend waited, not saying anything. With Morgan, especially now, Legend had no idea whether she would lie or be truthful.
“I mean, I love you guys. I really do. But…” she seemed to force the word out. “I miss my mom and dad. I miss my family…” she trailed off, breaking down.
Legend was silent, pulling the truck into her parking space and turning it off.
“They always said they’d be here for me, no matter what, and now they don’t want anything to do with me. They just call to yell at me and tell me how bad I screwed up and how bad it makes them look. They said I‘m not their daughter…” Morgan said, her voice breaking.
Sitting quietly, Legend rested her head on the steering wheel and wept, too. She couldn’t imagine her own parents saying the same to her, especially if she was dealing with the toughest thing she had ever dealt with. Even though it was difficult, she was glad to hear from Morgan when she was starting to really feel things again, instead of burying them. To Legend, it was the first, true sign of healing.
“They love you,” she insisted, listening to Morgan try to compose herself. “You need to trust that. And know that even if they stop, that God never will. You’ll always be His daughter.”
“I don’t want to be His daughter,” Morgan said brokenly. “He left me.”
“No. He never has left you, and He never will. And ,want to be or not, you are His daughter. He loves you, no matter what,” Legend told her firmly. “How are those twelve steps going?”
“Slow,” Morgan admitted. “I’ve only been here a couple days, and I’m already overwhelmed. I don’t want to let go of the control. Otherwise, who knows? You know?”
“Keep working on it,” Legend encouraged. “Remember that God knows, and He loves you. And remember that even if your family never comes around, that you have us.”
“Okay,” Morgan nodded. “Well, I have to go soon but how are you guys?”
“We’re good,” Legend answered, keeping things simple. “I think Jon and Emily are planning on coming to your family week. And…I just got a text message before you called that says Emily’s taken over the kitchen, and is making dinner. German food,” she shuddered.
“How come she never cooked when I lived there?” Morgan asked, laughing a little.
“Hey, you’re lucky. Trust me.” Legend said laughing. But she grew serious, telling Morgan, “I love you. We all love you. Okay? Work hard, and stop fighting so hard. You’re safe there.”
“I’m trying,” Morgan said honestly and hung up.
She felt a little stronger now. Like maybe, with her friends’ support - and God, if He was here - she could start dealing with her demons.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Smoke & Mirrors: Chapter 6
The last thing Emily ever expected was to find out that Morgan had spent the last four months - probably more - stealing from them and living each day high. Emily hadn’t seen any signs at all. And the truth was, she sort of looked for them.
Libby had shared a lot with her about the stuff she learned in counseling. That’s how Emily knew that if you didn’t deal with a traumatic experience like they had been through, you were at a higher risk to abuse substances. Just the fact that Morgan had seemed so okay while everybody else was struggling had made Emily a little bit curious, but she had shrugged it off. Morgan had always been the strongest of all of them. She had figured that if any of them could handle it, Morgan could.
But Morgan hadn’t gotten help like most of the rest of them. Emily had spoken to her church pastor, Libby had her counselor (who even Liam had seen once or twice, but no one was supposed to know that.) Legend had talked at length with her parents, who found someone for her to speak to privately. She had gone a few times over the winter break. Jess wasn’t seeing a shrink but she had every other kind of therapy. Physical, occupational, speech. It was exhausting. And Emily would hazard to guess that if Jess did start remembering stuff and need to talk, Legend and her family would provide a way for her to talk to someone. Heck, Emily would even pay, whatever it cost.
The boys were a little harder to read. She knew that Aaron had gone to the counselor on-campus to work through his demons about what they had been through. Bryan regularly went to the Catholic church nearby where he was a member, and spoke to the Father there. And Coby was now going to AA meetings, where he was learning how to cope with everyday stress, as well as the deeper stuff. He didn’t talk about it much, except to let them know he was going, so they could keep him accountable, in case he decided he didn’t need it. She had no idea about Jonathan, but had always strongly suspected he had done some intensive counseling in the immediate aftermath, and even now, sometimes. He seemed steadier, and more mature, and really able to tell what people needed.
Christian had even been talking to the child psychologist who had been provided for the kids like him, who had been stuck in daycare during the campus lockdown, for hours later than they should have been. Christian had it worse, because obviously, everyone he knew and loved, including his mom was directly involved. As far as Emily knew, he was the only kid still doing the play therapy a couple times a week. But he needed it, and they were all grateful it was there.
The only ones who had refused any kind of mental health help outright were Nathaniel and Morgan. And while Nate still dealt with shame and guilt and all that stuff from what was done to him, he was never shy about expressing it, or telling someone what he needed. He would call his mom or his brother, or talk to one of them about what he was feeling.
Morgan had it the worst of any of them and unfortunately, her first experience with counseling had been really negative. She had gone to one of the special shrinks provided by the campus, and they had wanted to know too much too fast. Details that Morgan wasn’t ready to share, and especially not with a stranger.
After that, as far as Emily knew, she had never gone back.
And now, they were sitting at the breakfast table, running on no sleep, trying to figure out what to do, while Morgan was up in the hospital psych ward, apparently giving the nurses hell.
None of them really knew what to do at this point. Morgan hadn’t even agreed to go into treatment, so should they start looking? Emily sure didn’t want her living here if she was going to be stealing medicine from them and trying to kill herself. She wanted Morgan healthy.
She wanted her to have a chance.
--
Morgan was tired, and confused, but more than any of that, she was pissed.
Most of the night before was a blur, but she remembered Jonathan and Nathaniel bringing her here, to this godforsaken place, where you weren’t even allowed the dignity of shoelaces or a pen. She was a writer, for God’s sake. True, she hadn’t written for a long time. Months, maybe. But that was beside the point. And she needed a damn cigarette. But of course, she wasn’t allowed to have those either.
She was grateful that she could manage to remember anyone’s number, and guessed Liam’s was actually better than anyone else’s anyway. He hadn’t done this to her. He had stood by her. Morgan could convince him to get her out. He would do anything for her.
Walking out by the front desk in her slippers, and hospital shirt and pants, she asked to make a damn phone call.
“Hey,” she said, when Liam picked up. “You’ve got to get me out of here.”
“Out of where, Morgan? Where are you?” Liam asked, concerned. Wherever she was, she didn’t sound good. Her voice was as deep as a man’s and it was shaky.
“Your idiot roommates took me to the hospital, and now I’m in the psych ward,” she hissed.
Liam set his jaw. “I’ll talk to them.”
“No! Don’t do that. Just come get me, please? I just made one stupid mistake. I promise, I won’t do it anymore,” Morgan begged, feeling desperate.
But one stern look from the hefty nurse behind the desk, who was built like a male-wrestler despite being very much female, had Morgan dialing it back. When she had first gotten there, and pulled out all the damn IVs and tried to get out, they threatened to put restraints on her if she didn’t calm down. Even though she was still angry and couldn’t think much past that, she had made herself stop. The last thing she wanted was to be tethered to the bed.
“I’m going to talk to them,” Liam vowed. “They have to know that sticking you in the hospital was way out of line. Okay? We’ll figure this out. I still love you.”
“Hey and if you can’t get them to get me out, you’ve got to come tonight at 7:00. That’s the visiting hour. Please come see me and bring me something to do. It’s boring as hell in here,” she pleaded. “Oh, and give me the house number at Grand Central. I need my sweatshirt.”
Liam passed along the number, and promised he would bring something to quell her boredom. He had the perfect thing. There was nothing better for a hurting soul than a little time in God’s Word. Then, he hung up and called the girls’ apartment to pass along the message that Morgan would be calling, and to give Nate and Jon a piece of his mind. Everyone had been gone when Liam got back.
--
Jess was tiredly searching through websites for different drug rehab centers in their state. They had some of the best here, but they all were really expensive, and Jess wasn’t sure what Morgan‘s insurance would cover.
Grand Central remained full of people, but Jess was the only one still awake. Legend had crashed in her room with Christian. Emily and Libby had gone back to their room. Their living room was full of sleeping men. Nate and Cary held each other on the couch, one of Nate‘s arms was wrapped around Cary‘s back, and Cary‘s draped his protectively across Nathaniel‘s chest. Coby slept in the recliner. Bryan, Jon and Aaron slept sprawled all over the floor.
Because anxiety made it impossible to sleep, she kept busy. Still feeling bad about the lame Toaster Strudel breakfast, she had first set to work making this French toast casserole thing. It tasted great on a cold day, and Jess was pretty sure that if she could manage not to cut a finger off slicing the French bread into little cubes, she would be fine. She had made this several times since being home from the hospital. And even though she still referred to the recipe, Jess almost didn’t need it at all.
Now that the casserole was in the refrigerator, and would be for eight hours, Jess had set to work looking up treatment facilities. It was times like this that she wished she had paid more attention to how her dad dealt with her mother, who had quite a drug habit herself, if Jess recalled right, and she did. But she had only been a toddler. She couldn’t remember if there had ever been talk of rehab or ultimatums or psych ward stays or interventions. All she knew for sure was the pain her mom’s drug use caused her. It ran deeper than just the fact that her mom abandoned her at a movie theater when she was three, and took off.
Few people knew that Jess herself used drugs. It wasn’t something she was proud of, but when she had been younger, and messed up in pain from all her unresolved issues, she had tried to do the same thing her mom had done, and numb herself from the inside out.
She had been twelve, and she credited Legend and her parents for saving her life. Her own dad was deeply uninvolved in her life, choosing instead to lose himself in work. So, Legend’s parents did what needed to be done, since she had been spending the night, and had brought contraband into their house. They had waited for her to sober up after a night of drinking and smoking dope. Then, they’d awakened her bright and early, and given her a choice. She could have her drugs and her alcohol, or she could have them involved in her life.
The choice was the toughest one she had to make. She begged them to take it all away from her. To flush it down the toilet. Send her home and not let her come over for a week. But they had refused. And finally, Jess had done it herself. Choosing the only family that had ever truly loved her over a temporary high.
True, she had slipped up. She had used other times. She was predisposed to it because of her mother, Legend’s dad had explained. She had used other drugs, but once she got pregnant, she hadn’t touched it. And though she’d made other poor choices - living with Christian’s dad, who was an abusive son-of-a-bitch, for one - Jess never used again. Her son was more important to her than anything.
Jess tried to focus on the screen as she scrolled, looking for more information about where they could find Morgan help. When the house phone rang, Jess snatched it up immediately and retreated to the tiny deck for some privacy. She didn’t recognize the number, or the name, but that was nothing new. Now, it sometimes took a little more time for things to click in and make sense.
“Hello?” she asked, wishing she had grabbed her coat, or a robe. It was chilly this morning, even though the sun was out.
“Hey? Who’s this?” a vaguely familiar voice asked.
“Jessica,” Jess answered, because she wasn’t sure who she was speaking to, and wanted to be careful. She didn’t need whoever this was becoming too familiar with her right away.
“Oh, hey, Jess. It’s Morgan.”
“Holy hell, Morgan,” Jess said, unable to keep it in. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered, though Jess knew it couldn’t be true. She sounded haunted.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all night, but they wouldn’t tell me anything. You should sign that form at the desk so that they can let us know what’s going on with you,” Jess advised gently.
“What form? Dude, I’m not even allowed to have a pen in here. How am I supposed to sign a form? And what business do you have knowing my medical shit anyway? My parents don’t care, so why should you?” Morgan asked irritably.
“Hey, it’s fine, Morgan, okay? Just take a breath. I’ve just been concerned, that’s all. I wanted to know how you’ve been.”
“Well, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”
“You aren’t fine,” Jess maintained. “Listen, have you thought about what you’re gonna do once you’re out of here?”
“What do you mean?” Morgan asked, perplexed. “I’m coming home.”
“We would love to have you home, but you need to get better first. You need to think about rehab, okay?”
“Jess, come on. I don’t have a problem. I just made a mistake. I told Liam that earlier, and he’s going to try and get me out of here,” she said, a hint of defiance in her tone.
“Well, if you get out of there, you’re not coming home with us. I can’t allow it. I have to think about Christian.”
“What about him? I never did anything to him,” Morgan defended.
“Morgan, he’s little. He doesn’t know any better. If he sees you take something, and you forget to put it up, then he might take it. Those pills Jon and Nate found on you last night? They weren’t secure. Christian could have found them just as easily. Mine look just like Tylenol, which I sometimes give him when he has a headache. If you lost one of those, and he found it and took it… That could kill him. And that’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”
On the other end of the line, Morgan was silent so long that Jess wondered if they had lost their connection.
“Okay…” Morgan said, her voice heavy.
“Okay, what?” Jess prompted.
“Okay, I’ll go…for Christian,” Morgan managed.
Jess sighed. “Honey, that’s really good. But this is a decision you have to make for you. You’re not safe the way you’re living now. You need to find a way to deal with what’s hurting you without trying to destroy yourself.”
“I just want to get out of here, Jess,” Morgan said softly, resting her head on the desk. “Tell me what I have to do.”
“You stop giving the nurses a hard time. You know one of them could have been me?” she joked. “They’re trying to help, so listen to them. If there’s any kind of inpatient thing, which Jon said there is, you should do that. Use this time to focus on you, and get yourself better, okay? I love you. And we’re all praying for you,” Jess told her tenderly.
“You sure there’s no way I can skip the work and just get out of here? I made a mistake, that’s no reason for them to stick me in here like a crazy person. I didn’t mean to.”
Jess was silent for a long moment. “You made a choice that got you where you are right now. You did mean to. And it’s your choice what to do next. You either do the hard work, go to treatment and get straightened out, or you’re on your own.”
“I’ll go…” Morgan conceded. “But can one of you guys bring my sweatshirt? I really need it.”
“Don’t push it, Morgan,” Jess said evenly and hung up, refusing to allow herself to be manipulated.
--
It wasn’t until the next afternoon that Libby turned her phone on and checked her text messages. She had about thirty and most of them were from her stupid brother, demanding that she call right when she got them. She was about to ignore them all, when Morgan’s name caught her eye. She clicked on it and read about how he had spoken with Morgan, and was working on a way to get her out of the hospital. She didn’t need to be in a psychiatric ward with people with problems. She needed prayer and love and support.
Angrily, Libby punched the buttons to dial his number and waited.
“Libby! Thank God! I’ve been trying to reach Nathaniel and Jon but they have hardly been here! I have to talk to you about this Morgan situation. It’s completely insane. And because I couldn’t reach any of you I couldn’t even keep my word and go visit her last night.”
“Good,” Libby said firmly. “You stay away from her. She needs help, and she’s getting it there. Don’t go letting her fill your head with ideas of how bad she has it in there.”
“How would you even know, Libby? That place is for the insane. Morgan doesn’t belong there,” Liam spat, his tone insulted.
“You think she’s better off with you?” Libby challenged, her voice rising. “When you can’t keep your pants on long enough to realize that she’s been screwed up by this. She doesn’t let anyone touch her, Liam. Why do you think she’d be okay with more than that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted, his voice tight.
“Jon and Nate saw you about to do the nasty with her!” Libby accused. “How can you feel like that’s even remotely okay? How would you feel if I had a boyfriend who took advantage of me that way, knowing what happened to me?”
“Of course not, but we’re not talking about you. Morgan started it. She wanted to. Trust me, I asked her to make sure.”
“Just face it, Liam. You wanted what you wanted and you took it,” Libby said softly.
“That was a low blow,” he breathed. “You can’t put all the blame on me when she’s the one who came over. She got in bed with me, did you know that? I didn’t touch her then. I didn’t do anything. The bottom line is she’s my girlfriend and I love her. I’m the most important person in her life, and I think that entitles me to a say in what happens to her.”
Libby shook her head, unbelieving, as tears stung her eyes. “Morgan was hurt worse than I was, Liam. From my own experiences, I know that she was coming back to you, and coming on to you, to see if you’d say no. Or if you would prove right what she already believes about herself, which is that she’s not worth anything.
“And let’s get one more thing straight. Her parents left decisions about what happens to Morgan up to Morgan, and up to Jess. And I highly doubt Jess will be taking your opinion into account after the way you acted like such an ass. Don’t call her. If she calls you, don’t answer. If you care about Morgan at all, Liam. Just leave her alone.” Libby managed, and then hung up the phone before he had the chance to respond.
--
“So, how are we doing on treatment stuff?” Jess asked as Legend hung up the phone. She stopped behind her, and massaged her tense shoulders.
“Her insurance is dragging their feet,” Legend sighed. When their was no response from Jess, Legend tipped her head back to see her face.
Jess’s brows were knit together and her head was cocked a little, the way it was whenever she heard something she didn’t understand. Legend constantly forgot that Jess struggled with certain expressions and figures of speech. Some she understood immediately, and some confused her even after they were explained.
“It means they could pay, but they don’t want to…” Legend clarified. “So they’re taking a long time, putting me on hold and making me crazy.”
“Well, she talked to the intake counselor, though, so that’s good. She seems a little clearer,” Jess offered optimistically.
When Legend didn’t answer Jess persisted. “She has to go. She agreed.”
“Oh, she’s going,” Legend promised. “If we have to pay for it out of our pockets, she’s going. Don’t worry about the insurance. They still have two days to get their act together.”
“It’ll work out,” she promised, squeezing Legend’s shoulder, and heading back to the kitchen to work on her own stuff for brain rehab, since she had put it off to deal with the more pressing situation at hand. But Jess knew she couldn’t let her own recovery slide. She wanted to keep improving. She needed to.
“Jess?” Legend asked quietly. “How did we miss it?”
“I ask myself that all the time,” Jess admitted.
“And?”
“And I don’t know. I don’t have an answer.”
--
It was 6:30 the next night when Libby walked into the room she shared with Emily to find her friend looking through drawers, and under the beds.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for some magazines I can take over when I visit Morgan,” Emily answered halfway under her own bed, throwing out shoes and old cosmetics.
“Why?” Libby demanded, scaring herself with how much she reminded herself of Jess. She had her hands on her hips and everything.
“Because she asked me. She said she was bored,” Emily admitted.
“Jess!” Libby called, walking past Legend who was on the phone. She closed herself into the bathroom.
--
“What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?” Legend quizzed, leaning her forehead against the door. “You are not getting a tattoo. Not before rehab.”
“Yeah, I am. Besides, I already have one anyway. I just want a little one. Aaron can draw it. You won’t even see it.”
“Then why do you need it so badly?” Legend asked.
“Because! I just do, okay? I’ve been pretty damn agreeable to this whole thing. But I might not be if you guys are gonna get into my business. This is just one lousy thing that I want to do for myself.”
Outside the door, Legend could hear Jess talking to Emily, telling her Morgan was not on vacation, she was in the damn psych ward. That it was like time-out, and she needed to use the time to think about how she could make better choices. Magazines weren’t going to help her do that.
She heard Jess come back by, and opened the door, sticking her phone out. “She wants a tattoo,” she whispered. “Or she says she might not go to treatment.”
Jess snatched the phone, just as Morgan was claiming that they couldn’t tell her what to do with her life.
“Oh, yes I can,” she said sharply. “You’re not thinking clearly right now, and your parents left all decisions concerning you up to me until you can be trusted to make them for yourself. No tattoo. End of story. And you are going to treatment. Stop trying to manipulate people. I love you,” she snapped and then handed the phone back to Legend.
Then, she called Christian from the living room.
“Yes?” he said, coming to stand by his mom.
“Who can tell me the rules for when someone is in the hospital?” Jess asked, smiling to herself as Christian waved his hand around to be called on. “Christian?”
“You go to the hospital to get better, not to play,” he recited.
“And what can we bring them?” she prompted.
“Our love and support and prayers and that’s it,” he nodded to himself.
“Did everyone hear that?” Jess asked, pushing her hair back out of her face.
Emily and Legend nodded.
“Good. Thanks, Christian, you can go finish watching your show.” she said, excusing him.
“Listen up, ladies,” Jess said firmly. “If Morgan is going to get better, we need to be together on this. If she starts manipulating you, that’s not her talking, that’s whatever she took. She asked me for her blue sweatshirt earlier, so I went to your room to look for it,” she nodded at Legend.
“I found pills in the pockets,” Jess confided softly, so Christian wouldn’t overhear. “Mine, some I didn’t recognize. Weed, and I don’t know what else. We’re going to have to seriously go through her room. I already told CJ he’s not allowed in there under any circumstances. He knows there’s bad stuff in there that made Morgan sick.”
“That’s crazy. Where would she get that?” Emily asked.
“You can get it anywhere,” Legend told her plainly.
“If she starts manipulating you, cut the conversation off. Tell her you love her but you have to go. All the boys know, because I talked to them already. Well, except Liam.”
“I talked to him,” Libby nodded. “I took care of it.”
When Emily left, a little later than planned, she had nothing with her, as she went out the door. She would do what Jess and Christian said. Morgan could have a hug. She could have her support and her prayers. But Emily wasn’t going to give into her weird demands anymore.
--
Because it was the final day before Morgan got out of the hospital, and would be on her way to rehab, Liam decided that a Bible study was in order. They hadn’t had one for a few days, and if there ever was the occasion for one, this was it. So, he made sure Jon and Nate weren’t going anywhere, and he managed to get a hold of everybody else and make sure they could come, by promising that he would keep the meeting short.
They would pray for Morgan. Just like they should have all done in the first place when Liam stopped by the other two apartments nights before.
It hadn’t taken long for everybody had assembled in the living room, and for Cary to take Christian in the kitchen to play Diego’s Halloween Adventure, because Halloween was Cary’s favorite holiday. Liam thought about pointing out that it was March, but didn’t think it would have mattered.
“Okay,” Liam announced once they were all settled. “I just wanted to pray for Morgan quickly, since we didn’t before.”
“Actually,” Aaron interjected, raising his hand slightly. “We have something else we need to address first.”
Liam sat back and crossed his arms. “And what could be more important than the well-being of a friend?”
“We took a vote,” Aaron said plainly. “You haven’t been meeting our needs as the leader of BS.”
“You can’t be serious,” Liam said, shaking his head. “It’s not even about me, guys. It’s about God. God’s the leader, not me.”
“God isn’t the one who dragged us back through that room. God didn’t twist stuff around and make it seem like we’d be letting each other down if we didn’t do it,” Nate put in quietly.
“And God sure isn’t the one who took advantage of someone in a compromised position…” Jon maintained.
“Guys. Okay. So, I made a mistake. That doesn’t mean you get to kick me out of Bible study. Did you forget what Jesus said about forgiveness?”
“Seventy times seven,” Coby returned. “But just because we can forgive you doesn’t mean we’re going to let you continue letting things go the way they’ve been.”
“What’s so bad about the way things have been?!” Liam exclaimed. “Up until Morgan screwed up, things were fine.”
“You’re serving your own agenda, not God’s,” Bryan said simply. “And don’t blame Morgan for your own mistakes.”
“Fine,” Liam huffed. “Maybe none of you guys want Liam around anymore! Is that it? Are you done with me? Am I not good enough to be here, because I wasn’t there when you needed me?”
“I’m glad every day that you weren’t there,” Libby admitted quietly. “No one needs to live with that. Especially if they don’t have to. Liam, it’s not about you, okay? It’s not an attack. We just think it would be better if someone else led.”
Liam’s jaw dropped. “Like who?”
“Like Aaron,” Jess offered, smiling slightly at him. “I think it’s time for a change, and with him leading it might be a great thing.”
“You’re not serious. That’s like the blind leading the blind!” he exclaimed.
“Stop yelling!” Christian shouted from the kitchen. “I can’t hear Diego!”
“You know what? Fine. I’m out of here. But you better all know that there is no way Morgan’s going to that secular place you found. She’s going to Christian rehab, or else she and I are through. You can let her know that, since I’m not allowed to talk to her,” he exclaimed, slamming the front door behind him.
“How’s he gonna manage that? He hasn’t even called anywhere,” Emily scoffed under her breath. “I just saw him print off the stuff today. It was like, 20 pages, and he hadn’t even talked to anybody.”
Legend sighed. “He just wants to feel involved.”
“Well, everything’s set up for the original place,” Jon said nodding. “She can go straight from the hospital to rehab. Nate and I went to the meeting the other morning. They were gonna try to send her out of state. And her parents were going to let them.”
“Who talked them out of that one?” Bryan asked.
“Jess,” Nate nodded, biting his lip. “She’s in charge. Her parents said, whoever’s in charge of her household can make the decisions. So Jess called and told them what was really happening.”
“Christian and Cary? You wanna come pray?” Aaron asked, knowing that this was the first thing he was changing. Everyone who wanted to be involved, could be, regardless of their faith, age or whatever.
“I already did,” Christian answered. “It went like, ’God, please help Morgan get all better and come home.’”
“Cary?” Nate asked.
“Nathaniel, Christian and I are kicking butt on this game. Diego just found the pumpkin costume, and defeated the black cat….and I’m totally sending everything that’s good and beautiful Morgan’s way,” he added. “So, don’t worry. She’ll make it.”
Libby had shared a lot with her about the stuff she learned in counseling. That’s how Emily knew that if you didn’t deal with a traumatic experience like they had been through, you were at a higher risk to abuse substances. Just the fact that Morgan had seemed so okay while everybody else was struggling had made Emily a little bit curious, but she had shrugged it off. Morgan had always been the strongest of all of them. She had figured that if any of them could handle it, Morgan could.
But Morgan hadn’t gotten help like most of the rest of them. Emily had spoken to her church pastor, Libby had her counselor (who even Liam had seen once or twice, but no one was supposed to know that.) Legend had talked at length with her parents, who found someone for her to speak to privately. She had gone a few times over the winter break. Jess wasn’t seeing a shrink but she had every other kind of therapy. Physical, occupational, speech. It was exhausting. And Emily would hazard to guess that if Jess did start remembering stuff and need to talk, Legend and her family would provide a way for her to talk to someone. Heck, Emily would even pay, whatever it cost.
The boys were a little harder to read. She knew that Aaron had gone to the counselor on-campus to work through his demons about what they had been through. Bryan regularly went to the Catholic church nearby where he was a member, and spoke to the Father there. And Coby was now going to AA meetings, where he was learning how to cope with everyday stress, as well as the deeper stuff. He didn’t talk about it much, except to let them know he was going, so they could keep him accountable, in case he decided he didn’t need it. She had no idea about Jonathan, but had always strongly suspected he had done some intensive counseling in the immediate aftermath, and even now, sometimes. He seemed steadier, and more mature, and really able to tell what people needed.
Christian had even been talking to the child psychologist who had been provided for the kids like him, who had been stuck in daycare during the campus lockdown, for hours later than they should have been. Christian had it worse, because obviously, everyone he knew and loved, including his mom was directly involved. As far as Emily knew, he was the only kid still doing the play therapy a couple times a week. But he needed it, and they were all grateful it was there.
The only ones who had refused any kind of mental health help outright were Nathaniel and Morgan. And while Nate still dealt with shame and guilt and all that stuff from what was done to him, he was never shy about expressing it, or telling someone what he needed. He would call his mom or his brother, or talk to one of them about what he was feeling.
Morgan had it the worst of any of them and unfortunately, her first experience with counseling had been really negative. She had gone to one of the special shrinks provided by the campus, and they had wanted to know too much too fast. Details that Morgan wasn’t ready to share, and especially not with a stranger.
After that, as far as Emily knew, she had never gone back.
And now, they were sitting at the breakfast table, running on no sleep, trying to figure out what to do, while Morgan was up in the hospital psych ward, apparently giving the nurses hell.
None of them really knew what to do at this point. Morgan hadn’t even agreed to go into treatment, so should they start looking? Emily sure didn’t want her living here if she was going to be stealing medicine from them and trying to kill herself. She wanted Morgan healthy.
She wanted her to have a chance.
--
Morgan was tired, and confused, but more than any of that, she was pissed.
Most of the night before was a blur, but she remembered Jonathan and Nathaniel bringing her here, to this godforsaken place, where you weren’t even allowed the dignity of shoelaces or a pen. She was a writer, for God’s sake. True, she hadn’t written for a long time. Months, maybe. But that was beside the point. And she needed a damn cigarette. But of course, she wasn’t allowed to have those either.
She was grateful that she could manage to remember anyone’s number, and guessed Liam’s was actually better than anyone else’s anyway. He hadn’t done this to her. He had stood by her. Morgan could convince him to get her out. He would do anything for her.
Walking out by the front desk in her slippers, and hospital shirt and pants, she asked to make a damn phone call.
“Hey,” she said, when Liam picked up. “You’ve got to get me out of here.”
“Out of where, Morgan? Where are you?” Liam asked, concerned. Wherever she was, she didn’t sound good. Her voice was as deep as a man’s and it was shaky.
“Your idiot roommates took me to the hospital, and now I’m in the psych ward,” she hissed.
Liam set his jaw. “I’ll talk to them.”
“No! Don’t do that. Just come get me, please? I just made one stupid mistake. I promise, I won’t do it anymore,” Morgan begged, feeling desperate.
But one stern look from the hefty nurse behind the desk, who was built like a male-wrestler despite being very much female, had Morgan dialing it back. When she had first gotten there, and pulled out all the damn IVs and tried to get out, they threatened to put restraints on her if she didn’t calm down. Even though she was still angry and couldn’t think much past that, she had made herself stop. The last thing she wanted was to be tethered to the bed.
“I’m going to talk to them,” Liam vowed. “They have to know that sticking you in the hospital was way out of line. Okay? We’ll figure this out. I still love you.”
“Hey and if you can’t get them to get me out, you’ve got to come tonight at 7:00. That’s the visiting hour. Please come see me and bring me something to do. It’s boring as hell in here,” she pleaded. “Oh, and give me the house number at Grand Central. I need my sweatshirt.”
Liam passed along the number, and promised he would bring something to quell her boredom. He had the perfect thing. There was nothing better for a hurting soul than a little time in God’s Word. Then, he hung up and called the girls’ apartment to pass along the message that Morgan would be calling, and to give Nate and Jon a piece of his mind. Everyone had been gone when Liam got back.
--
Jess was tiredly searching through websites for different drug rehab centers in their state. They had some of the best here, but they all were really expensive, and Jess wasn’t sure what Morgan‘s insurance would cover.
Grand Central remained full of people, but Jess was the only one still awake. Legend had crashed in her room with Christian. Emily and Libby had gone back to their room. Their living room was full of sleeping men. Nate and Cary held each other on the couch, one of Nate‘s arms was wrapped around Cary‘s back, and Cary‘s draped his protectively across Nathaniel‘s chest. Coby slept in the recliner. Bryan, Jon and Aaron slept sprawled all over the floor.
Because anxiety made it impossible to sleep, she kept busy. Still feeling bad about the lame Toaster Strudel breakfast, she had first set to work making this French toast casserole thing. It tasted great on a cold day, and Jess was pretty sure that if she could manage not to cut a finger off slicing the French bread into little cubes, she would be fine. She had made this several times since being home from the hospital. And even though she still referred to the recipe, Jess almost didn’t need it at all.
Now that the casserole was in the refrigerator, and would be for eight hours, Jess had set to work looking up treatment facilities. It was times like this that she wished she had paid more attention to how her dad dealt with her mother, who had quite a drug habit herself, if Jess recalled right, and she did. But she had only been a toddler. She couldn’t remember if there had ever been talk of rehab or ultimatums or psych ward stays or interventions. All she knew for sure was the pain her mom’s drug use caused her. It ran deeper than just the fact that her mom abandoned her at a movie theater when she was three, and took off.
Few people knew that Jess herself used drugs. It wasn’t something she was proud of, but when she had been younger, and messed up in pain from all her unresolved issues, she had tried to do the same thing her mom had done, and numb herself from the inside out.
She had been twelve, and she credited Legend and her parents for saving her life. Her own dad was deeply uninvolved in her life, choosing instead to lose himself in work. So, Legend’s parents did what needed to be done, since she had been spending the night, and had brought contraband into their house. They had waited for her to sober up after a night of drinking and smoking dope. Then, they’d awakened her bright and early, and given her a choice. She could have her drugs and her alcohol, or she could have them involved in her life.
The choice was the toughest one she had to make. She begged them to take it all away from her. To flush it down the toilet. Send her home and not let her come over for a week. But they had refused. And finally, Jess had done it herself. Choosing the only family that had ever truly loved her over a temporary high.
True, she had slipped up. She had used other times. She was predisposed to it because of her mother, Legend’s dad had explained. She had used other drugs, but once she got pregnant, she hadn’t touched it. And though she’d made other poor choices - living with Christian’s dad, who was an abusive son-of-a-bitch, for one - Jess never used again. Her son was more important to her than anything.
Jess tried to focus on the screen as she scrolled, looking for more information about where they could find Morgan help. When the house phone rang, Jess snatched it up immediately and retreated to the tiny deck for some privacy. She didn’t recognize the number, or the name, but that was nothing new. Now, it sometimes took a little more time for things to click in and make sense.
“Hello?” she asked, wishing she had grabbed her coat, or a robe. It was chilly this morning, even though the sun was out.
“Hey? Who’s this?” a vaguely familiar voice asked.
“Jessica,” Jess answered, because she wasn’t sure who she was speaking to, and wanted to be careful. She didn’t need whoever this was becoming too familiar with her right away.
“Oh, hey, Jess. It’s Morgan.”
“Holy hell, Morgan,” Jess said, unable to keep it in. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered, though Jess knew it couldn’t be true. She sounded haunted.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all night, but they wouldn’t tell me anything. You should sign that form at the desk so that they can let us know what’s going on with you,” Jess advised gently.
“What form? Dude, I’m not even allowed to have a pen in here. How am I supposed to sign a form? And what business do you have knowing my medical shit anyway? My parents don’t care, so why should you?” Morgan asked irritably.
“Hey, it’s fine, Morgan, okay? Just take a breath. I’ve just been concerned, that’s all. I wanted to know how you’ve been.”
“Well, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”
“You aren’t fine,” Jess maintained. “Listen, have you thought about what you’re gonna do once you’re out of here?”
“What do you mean?” Morgan asked, perplexed. “I’m coming home.”
“We would love to have you home, but you need to get better first. You need to think about rehab, okay?”
“Jess, come on. I don’t have a problem. I just made a mistake. I told Liam that earlier, and he’s going to try and get me out of here,” she said, a hint of defiance in her tone.
“Well, if you get out of there, you’re not coming home with us. I can’t allow it. I have to think about Christian.”
“What about him? I never did anything to him,” Morgan defended.
“Morgan, he’s little. He doesn’t know any better. If he sees you take something, and you forget to put it up, then he might take it. Those pills Jon and Nate found on you last night? They weren’t secure. Christian could have found them just as easily. Mine look just like Tylenol, which I sometimes give him when he has a headache. If you lost one of those, and he found it and took it… That could kill him. And that’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”
On the other end of the line, Morgan was silent so long that Jess wondered if they had lost their connection.
“Okay…” Morgan said, her voice heavy.
“Okay, what?” Jess prompted.
“Okay, I’ll go…for Christian,” Morgan managed.
Jess sighed. “Honey, that’s really good. But this is a decision you have to make for you. You’re not safe the way you’re living now. You need to find a way to deal with what’s hurting you without trying to destroy yourself.”
“I just want to get out of here, Jess,” Morgan said softly, resting her head on the desk. “Tell me what I have to do.”
“You stop giving the nurses a hard time. You know one of them could have been me?” she joked. “They’re trying to help, so listen to them. If there’s any kind of inpatient thing, which Jon said there is, you should do that. Use this time to focus on you, and get yourself better, okay? I love you. And we’re all praying for you,” Jess told her tenderly.
“You sure there’s no way I can skip the work and just get out of here? I made a mistake, that’s no reason for them to stick me in here like a crazy person. I didn’t mean to.”
Jess was silent for a long moment. “You made a choice that got you where you are right now. You did mean to. And it’s your choice what to do next. You either do the hard work, go to treatment and get straightened out, or you’re on your own.”
“I’ll go…” Morgan conceded. “But can one of you guys bring my sweatshirt? I really need it.”
“Don’t push it, Morgan,” Jess said evenly and hung up, refusing to allow herself to be manipulated.
--
It wasn’t until the next afternoon that Libby turned her phone on and checked her text messages. She had about thirty and most of them were from her stupid brother, demanding that she call right when she got them. She was about to ignore them all, when Morgan’s name caught her eye. She clicked on it and read about how he had spoken with Morgan, and was working on a way to get her out of the hospital. She didn’t need to be in a psychiatric ward with people with problems. She needed prayer and love and support.
Angrily, Libby punched the buttons to dial his number and waited.
“Libby! Thank God! I’ve been trying to reach Nathaniel and Jon but they have hardly been here! I have to talk to you about this Morgan situation. It’s completely insane. And because I couldn’t reach any of you I couldn’t even keep my word and go visit her last night.”
“Good,” Libby said firmly. “You stay away from her. She needs help, and she’s getting it there. Don’t go letting her fill your head with ideas of how bad she has it in there.”
“How would you even know, Libby? That place is for the insane. Morgan doesn’t belong there,” Liam spat, his tone insulted.
“You think she’s better off with you?” Libby challenged, her voice rising. “When you can’t keep your pants on long enough to realize that she’s been screwed up by this. She doesn’t let anyone touch her, Liam. Why do you think she’d be okay with more than that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted, his voice tight.
“Jon and Nate saw you about to do the nasty with her!” Libby accused. “How can you feel like that’s even remotely okay? How would you feel if I had a boyfriend who took advantage of me that way, knowing what happened to me?”
“Of course not, but we’re not talking about you. Morgan started it. She wanted to. Trust me, I asked her to make sure.”
“Just face it, Liam. You wanted what you wanted and you took it,” Libby said softly.
“That was a low blow,” he breathed. “You can’t put all the blame on me when she’s the one who came over. She got in bed with me, did you know that? I didn’t touch her then. I didn’t do anything. The bottom line is she’s my girlfriend and I love her. I’m the most important person in her life, and I think that entitles me to a say in what happens to her.”
Libby shook her head, unbelieving, as tears stung her eyes. “Morgan was hurt worse than I was, Liam. From my own experiences, I know that she was coming back to you, and coming on to you, to see if you’d say no. Or if you would prove right what she already believes about herself, which is that she’s not worth anything.
“And let’s get one more thing straight. Her parents left decisions about what happens to Morgan up to Morgan, and up to Jess. And I highly doubt Jess will be taking your opinion into account after the way you acted like such an ass. Don’t call her. If she calls you, don’t answer. If you care about Morgan at all, Liam. Just leave her alone.” Libby managed, and then hung up the phone before he had the chance to respond.
--
“So, how are we doing on treatment stuff?” Jess asked as Legend hung up the phone. She stopped behind her, and massaged her tense shoulders.
“Her insurance is dragging their feet,” Legend sighed. When their was no response from Jess, Legend tipped her head back to see her face.
Jess’s brows were knit together and her head was cocked a little, the way it was whenever she heard something she didn’t understand. Legend constantly forgot that Jess struggled with certain expressions and figures of speech. Some she understood immediately, and some confused her even after they were explained.
“It means they could pay, but they don’t want to…” Legend clarified. “So they’re taking a long time, putting me on hold and making me crazy.”
“Well, she talked to the intake counselor, though, so that’s good. She seems a little clearer,” Jess offered optimistically.
When Legend didn’t answer Jess persisted. “She has to go. She agreed.”
“Oh, she’s going,” Legend promised. “If we have to pay for it out of our pockets, she’s going. Don’t worry about the insurance. They still have two days to get their act together.”
“It’ll work out,” she promised, squeezing Legend’s shoulder, and heading back to the kitchen to work on her own stuff for brain rehab, since she had put it off to deal with the more pressing situation at hand. But Jess knew she couldn’t let her own recovery slide. She wanted to keep improving. She needed to.
“Jess?” Legend asked quietly. “How did we miss it?”
“I ask myself that all the time,” Jess admitted.
“And?”
“And I don’t know. I don’t have an answer.”
--
It was 6:30 the next night when Libby walked into the room she shared with Emily to find her friend looking through drawers, and under the beds.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for some magazines I can take over when I visit Morgan,” Emily answered halfway under her own bed, throwing out shoes and old cosmetics.
“Why?” Libby demanded, scaring herself with how much she reminded herself of Jess. She had her hands on her hips and everything.
“Because she asked me. She said she was bored,” Emily admitted.
“Jess!” Libby called, walking past Legend who was on the phone. She closed herself into the bathroom.
--
“What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand?” Legend quizzed, leaning her forehead against the door. “You are not getting a tattoo. Not before rehab.”
“Yeah, I am. Besides, I already have one anyway. I just want a little one. Aaron can draw it. You won’t even see it.”
“Then why do you need it so badly?” Legend asked.
“Because! I just do, okay? I’ve been pretty damn agreeable to this whole thing. But I might not be if you guys are gonna get into my business. This is just one lousy thing that I want to do for myself.”
Outside the door, Legend could hear Jess talking to Emily, telling her Morgan was not on vacation, she was in the damn psych ward. That it was like time-out, and she needed to use the time to think about how she could make better choices. Magazines weren’t going to help her do that.
She heard Jess come back by, and opened the door, sticking her phone out. “She wants a tattoo,” she whispered. “Or she says she might not go to treatment.”
Jess snatched the phone, just as Morgan was claiming that they couldn’t tell her what to do with her life.
“Oh, yes I can,” she said sharply. “You’re not thinking clearly right now, and your parents left all decisions concerning you up to me until you can be trusted to make them for yourself. No tattoo. End of story. And you are going to treatment. Stop trying to manipulate people. I love you,” she snapped and then handed the phone back to Legend.
Then, she called Christian from the living room.
“Yes?” he said, coming to stand by his mom.
“Who can tell me the rules for when someone is in the hospital?” Jess asked, smiling to herself as Christian waved his hand around to be called on. “Christian?”
“You go to the hospital to get better, not to play,” he recited.
“And what can we bring them?” she prompted.
“Our love and support and prayers and that’s it,” he nodded to himself.
“Did everyone hear that?” Jess asked, pushing her hair back out of her face.
Emily and Legend nodded.
“Good. Thanks, Christian, you can go finish watching your show.” she said, excusing him.
“Listen up, ladies,” Jess said firmly. “If Morgan is going to get better, we need to be together on this. If she starts manipulating you, that’s not her talking, that’s whatever she took. She asked me for her blue sweatshirt earlier, so I went to your room to look for it,” she nodded at Legend.
“I found pills in the pockets,” Jess confided softly, so Christian wouldn’t overhear. “Mine, some I didn’t recognize. Weed, and I don’t know what else. We’re going to have to seriously go through her room. I already told CJ he’s not allowed in there under any circumstances. He knows there’s bad stuff in there that made Morgan sick.”
“That’s crazy. Where would she get that?” Emily asked.
“You can get it anywhere,” Legend told her plainly.
“If she starts manipulating you, cut the conversation off. Tell her you love her but you have to go. All the boys know, because I talked to them already. Well, except Liam.”
“I talked to him,” Libby nodded. “I took care of it.”
When Emily left, a little later than planned, she had nothing with her, as she went out the door. She would do what Jess and Christian said. Morgan could have a hug. She could have her support and her prayers. But Emily wasn’t going to give into her weird demands anymore.
--
Because it was the final day before Morgan got out of the hospital, and would be on her way to rehab, Liam decided that a Bible study was in order. They hadn’t had one for a few days, and if there ever was the occasion for one, this was it. So, he made sure Jon and Nate weren’t going anywhere, and he managed to get a hold of everybody else and make sure they could come, by promising that he would keep the meeting short.
They would pray for Morgan. Just like they should have all done in the first place when Liam stopped by the other two apartments nights before.
It hadn’t taken long for everybody had assembled in the living room, and for Cary to take Christian in the kitchen to play Diego’s Halloween Adventure, because Halloween was Cary’s favorite holiday. Liam thought about pointing out that it was March, but didn’t think it would have mattered.
“Okay,” Liam announced once they were all settled. “I just wanted to pray for Morgan quickly, since we didn’t before.”
“Actually,” Aaron interjected, raising his hand slightly. “We have something else we need to address first.”
Liam sat back and crossed his arms. “And what could be more important than the well-being of a friend?”
“We took a vote,” Aaron said plainly. “You haven’t been meeting our needs as the leader of BS.”
“You can’t be serious,” Liam said, shaking his head. “It’s not even about me, guys. It’s about God. God’s the leader, not me.”
“God isn’t the one who dragged us back through that room. God didn’t twist stuff around and make it seem like we’d be letting each other down if we didn’t do it,” Nate put in quietly.
“And God sure isn’t the one who took advantage of someone in a compromised position…” Jon maintained.
“Guys. Okay. So, I made a mistake. That doesn’t mean you get to kick me out of Bible study. Did you forget what Jesus said about forgiveness?”
“Seventy times seven,” Coby returned. “But just because we can forgive you doesn’t mean we’re going to let you continue letting things go the way they’ve been.”
“What’s so bad about the way things have been?!” Liam exclaimed. “Up until Morgan screwed up, things were fine.”
“You’re serving your own agenda, not God’s,” Bryan said simply. “And don’t blame Morgan for your own mistakes.”
“Fine,” Liam huffed. “Maybe none of you guys want Liam around anymore! Is that it? Are you done with me? Am I not good enough to be here, because I wasn’t there when you needed me?”
“I’m glad every day that you weren’t there,” Libby admitted quietly. “No one needs to live with that. Especially if they don’t have to. Liam, it’s not about you, okay? It’s not an attack. We just think it would be better if someone else led.”
Liam’s jaw dropped. “Like who?”
“Like Aaron,” Jess offered, smiling slightly at him. “I think it’s time for a change, and with him leading it might be a great thing.”
“You’re not serious. That’s like the blind leading the blind!” he exclaimed.
“Stop yelling!” Christian shouted from the kitchen. “I can’t hear Diego!”
“You know what? Fine. I’m out of here. But you better all know that there is no way Morgan’s going to that secular place you found. She’s going to Christian rehab, or else she and I are through. You can let her know that, since I’m not allowed to talk to her,” he exclaimed, slamming the front door behind him.
“How’s he gonna manage that? He hasn’t even called anywhere,” Emily scoffed under her breath. “I just saw him print off the stuff today. It was like, 20 pages, and he hadn’t even talked to anybody.”
Legend sighed. “He just wants to feel involved.”
“Well, everything’s set up for the original place,” Jon said nodding. “She can go straight from the hospital to rehab. Nate and I went to the meeting the other morning. They were gonna try to send her out of state. And her parents were going to let them.”
“Who talked them out of that one?” Bryan asked.
“Jess,” Nate nodded, biting his lip. “She’s in charge. Her parents said, whoever’s in charge of her household can make the decisions. So Jess called and told them what was really happening.”
“Christian and Cary? You wanna come pray?” Aaron asked, knowing that this was the first thing he was changing. Everyone who wanted to be involved, could be, regardless of their faith, age or whatever.
“I already did,” Christian answered. “It went like, ’God, please help Morgan get all better and come home.’”
“Cary?” Nate asked.
“Nathaniel, Christian and I are kicking butt on this game. Diego just found the pumpkin costume, and defeated the black cat….and I’m totally sending everything that’s good and beautiful Morgan’s way,” he added. “So, don’t worry. She’ll make it.”
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Smoke & Mirrors: Chapter 5
Aaron jerked awake to the sound of someone beating on the apartment door. His heart was in his throat as he felt around for anything he could use as a weapon. It was the middle of the night - just after four in the morning and still pitch black out. Aaron’s first and last thought was that they were about to be robbed.
Without taking time to think about it, Aaron ripped his alarm clock out of the wall, and clutched it in his hands. If all else failed, maybe he could hit their intruder in the head and knock him out.
He could already hear Coby and Bryan, up and talking to each other, so Aaron crept down the hall, clock in hand, the cord dragging like a tail. His heart was beating in his throat. Aaron’s eyes widened as he saw Coby wielding a hammer and Bryan with a large kitchen knife.
“Who the hell is it?!” Bryan demanded, his voice so terrifying that Aaron actually believed he could run somebody through with that in order to protect his own life, as well as theirs.
“Liam!” the voice on the other side of the door insisted. But all three glanced at each other, their minds cloaked in fear.
Not one of them made a move to unlock the door. To them, the voice sounded eerily familiar, and nothing like Liam. They were all thinking about earlier. About the room. About reliving it all.
The blade of the knife glint in the moonlight as his hand shook, betraying his nerves.
“Prove it, asshole!” Coby ordered menacingly, taking a step toward the door, his hammer cocked and ready to use.
“You guys! Come on! I’m serious! This is serious! Morgan’s in trouble.”
“Keep it down, out there!” a neighbor yelled.
Finally, Bryan risked turning the lock and easing the door open.
“Jesus,” Liam gasped, his eyes wide at the sight of Bryan in an old Boyz II Men tee shirt, and red athletic shorts, carrying what was probably the biggest knife they owned.
Behind him, Liam could see Aaron dressed in blue boxers, his alarm clock poised to throw, and Coby still in jeans from the day before, armed with a hammer.
Liam put his hands up.
“Bryan, put the knife down,” Coby said calmly, though his own heart continued to beat like a war drum. From the looks of things, they had done a decent job of scaring Liam half to death. Which wasn’t exactly what they were going for, though it was kind of satisfying.
Silently, Bryan handed the knife off, handle first, and Coby put it back in the block, and his hammer safely in his toolbox.
Aaron sighed and sat heavily on the couch. “Are you trying to scare the shit out of us?” he accused, setting his alarm clock beside him.
“No! But, guys, this is serious. You need to pray for Morgan. She’s like, way, way backsliding. It’s really bad. I don’t have time to explain it. But you just need to pray as hard as you ever prayed for anything. Pray that she turns back to the Lord…”
Just as unexpectedly as Liam had arrived, he was gone, out their door and running down the hall.
--
“Where the hell did Liam take off to?” Nate asked, irritated, as he tried unsuccessfully to sit Morgan up. Liam had done nothing but make a bad situation so much worse and now he had left, when they really could have used another pair of hands.
“Who knows?” Jon grunted, catching Morgan as she fell forward onto him, and leaning her back against Nate.
It remained Nate’s goal to keep Morgan awake and talking. Jonathan was doing his best to get her dressed, and Cary was on the phone, trying to get a hold of her parents, or any of his friends who might know what to do in this situation. Other than the obvious, getting her to the hospital. He had already decided they needed to keep the pills Jon and Nate found in her sweatshirt and the note, too. So Cary had put them in his pocket for safekeeping.
“Don’t,” Morgan moaned. “I’m fine…Just leave me alone…”
Jonathan squinted at her. She was definitely getting worse fast. Whatever she had taken was starting to kick in. They should have never let her fall asleep in the first place. What if she lost consciousness?
He pushed that thought out of his mind, and concentrated on getting clothes on his friend, as quickly and compassionately as possible.
“No…” she whined, trying to move away from the hands that touched her. But her body felt like it was all liquid, and her brain felt like mush. She couldn’t make sense of anything, except that she was tired, and anxious and scared.
“It’s okay,” Jon said. “We’ve got to get you dressed so we can go, okay? I don’t want you to be cold.”
She mumbled something unintelligible, as Nate managed to get Morgan’s shirt over her head. He wrapped her in the blanket, forgoing shoes and socks, in favor of simply getting to the hospital.
Jon carried her to his car and laid her across the backseat, her head resting on Nate’s lap. Cary sat in the passenger seat, using his phone and its navigator to get them to the closest hospital. Despite being a patient there, Jonathan had been weak from blood loss and in shock the last time he’d been there as a patient, and couldn’t remember the first thing about how to get there.
Nate swallowed his fear, and concentrated on Morgan, whose skin was ashy and sweaty. Her breathing was faster than he thought it should have been, and he was about to comment when she started to choke.
“If she’s vomiting turn her on her side,” Cary instructed, while Jon honked and swore at the traffic.
Shifting Morgan, so her head lolled to the side, Nate was relieved when she started to vomit.
“Good girl,” he said quietly, though his stomach churned at the sound of her heaving. “You get rid of all that,” he encouraged, not caring that her sickness was all down the front of the legs of his jeans.
“Keep her talking. Is she talking?” Jon asked, his voice tense, as he sped through a yellow light. If a cop pulled him over, all the better. They could use the escort.
“Talk to me, sweetie,” Nate said softly. When he got no response, fear intensified his voice. “Morgan. I need you to talk to me. Do you understand?”
“Can’t…I feel like shit…” she whimpered.
“Okay,” Nate sighed, relieved. “She’s talking. Says she feels like shit.”
“Good,” Jon answered incongruously. “Morgan, you hang in there. You hear me?”
“Turn left here,” Cary advised. “It should be on the right. You can pull right up to the emergency entrance. This is an emergency,” he said, jumping out of the car before it was even completely stopped.
Cary opened Nate’s door and crouched, waiting for him to pass Morgan off to him.
The minute she was in his arms, Cary took off through the doors, Jonathan and Nathaniel on his heels.
“We need help!” he called in a commanding tone. Vaguely, he was aware of Morgan stiffening in his arms. “It’s okay,” he reassured softly. “You’re going to be fine, okay?”
“What happened?” someone in uniform asked as she rushed forward.
“Attempted suicide,” Cary managed as someone took Morgan from his arms.
--
Christian couldn’t breathe when he heard the sound of a scary stranger pounding on the door. He had been having a bad dream about Uncle Jesse from Full House dressed in a hockey mask with a big ax, coming to kill them all, like the bad guy probably tried to do to his mom and all her friends.
He started crying very hard, and he could tell the big girls were scared too. Libby, Emily and Legend were holding hands. His mom swallowed once and then got up to answer the door. Her face looked the same as it did when the robber came and was going to beat her up one time.
“No, Mom!” he sobbed, climbing over the other girls, and stepping on their hands. He didn’t care. He had to stop her from opening the door.
Christian clung to her legs, trying to climb Jess like a tree, causing her to sway unsteadily. He shook and sobbed, and it was the exact reaction she wanted to have. Except that somebody had to stay in control.
“Jess, don’t!” Emily screamed.
“Emily, stop it,’ Jess managed, willing her voice not to shake. She stopped a few feet from the door, and called out. The pounding was making her head ache, and her skin crawl.
“Who is it?” she asked in a hard voice, daring their night-visitor to try anything.
When the locked door eased open and a shape stood silhouetted in the doorway, all of them screamed.
“Hey! It’s Liam! Calm down! I have a key, remember?”
“Oh, I’m gonna kill him…” Libby vowed, forcing herself to breathe. Who did he think he was anyway? Hadn’t he done enough damage already? Why did he have to come knocking at their door like some crazed lunatic before it was even light out.
“Lib, hush,” Legend managed, though she’d very nearly hyperventilated.
But Libby was already up and in front of Jess, throwing the hallway light to glare at Liam. “Who the hell do you think you are?” she asked, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and jerking him inside. “You scared us half to death.”
“I’m sorry, okay? But we’ve got bigger problems here,” Liam managed, looking at them with wide gray eyes. “You need to pray for Morgan.”
“What are you talking about?” Jess asked, raising her voice to be heard over Christian’s cries. “Morgan’s here. She came home earlier.”
“Well, she’s not here now, because she was at my place. Which is how I know this in the first place.” Liam said matter-of-factly. “She’s in a lot of trouble, girls. Really backsliding. We need to pray her back in.”
“You are ridiculous,” Libby spat, and then cowered as the open doorway filled unexpectedly with people.
“Hey, it’s just us,” Coby reassured, pushing his way past Liam and inside where he put his arms around Jess and Christian.
“I’m sorry. We tried to get here before he did, but by the time he left our place and we figured out that he was probably one his way here, he already had a head start.”
Christian attached himself to Coby instantly, sobbing incoherently into his neck. “Bad guy’s…gonna…get my…mom!”
Coby bit his lip and looked over Christian’s head at Jess. She looked like she had seen a ghost.
“Hey,” he managed, forcing himself to sound in control. “You know what? That’s what I thought, too, okay? I thought it was a bad guy. But it’s not, see?” Coby reassured, coaxing Christian’s face out of his bare shoulder to peek at who had really come in. “It was just Liam, being impolite.”
Bryan went to Emily and Legend, putting his hands on either sides of both of their faces, as if to make sure they were really there in front of him. “Are you two okay?” he asked.
Emily nodded, looking perilously close to tears, and Legend refused to meet his eyes - terrified that she might accidentally catch a glimpse of Liam who had managed to dress in her least favorite color combination ever. Black jeans and a red hooded sweatshirt. She especially hated seeing people wear red, and refused to wear it herself, anymore. But Liam managed to remind her entirely too much of Buddy in his chosen attire.
“Hey. It’s all right,” Bryan reassured. “Let’s go in the kitchen. Want to?” he asked, as he saw Coby dragging Jess and Christian’s futon mattress back to their room as both of them followed closely behind.
Aaron stood by Libby, refusing to leave her alone with Liam. He had shown less than great judgment so far, with insisting they all go back to that horrible study room for no rational reason Aaron could think of. And then to come pounding on all their doors when he knew they would be all worked up over it? He shook his head.
“You guys!” Liam called, alarmed. “Come back here! Didn’t you hear? Morgan’s got serious spiritual warfare going on in her life right now. We need to fight it with a holy violence.”
“You stupid jerk,” Libby managed, between clenched teeth. “You can take your holy violence and shove it!”
“I can’t believe you don’t care enough about Morgan to pray for her deliverance,” Liam managed, shaking his head.
“Dude,” Aaron interrupted seriously, before Libby had the chance to say anything more. “Liam, I think you should go. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re not helping. It’s late, and we’re exhausted. Just go home.”
“I’m talking to my sister,” Liam explained in placating tone that held a hint of threat.
“No, you’re not. Just get out,” Libby nodded toward the door. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“Fine… I guess Morgan and I know who our true friends are,” Liam huffed, slamming the door behind him.
--
Since Coby had thankfully taken over trying to get CJ back to sleep, and everyone else was sprawled all over the living room watching cartoons, trying to relax, Jess decided that
she might as well start breakfast. Most of them were still here, and everyone was awake. It was almost six now. Liam had left an hour before, and the house was settling down again. But she was about to start making calls, when her phone rang.
Jess snatched it up, before the noise woke up Christian.
“Hello?” she asked, sticking bread in the toaster and then changing her mind and going with strawberry Toaster Strudels. Those tasted especially nice on stressful days, and Jess ought to know about those.
“Hey, Jess?” a vaguely familiar voice asked.
“Yeah, this is Jess. Who is this?” she asked, pressing the lever on the front of the toaster down.
“This is Cary Mackey. We met earlier,” he said, biting his lip. This wasn’t going to be an easy call to make.
“Hey, Cary. What’s up?” she asked, trying to multitask and putting water in the kettle for tea. “You’re lucky we had a crazy night over here, and I was up this early, otherwise I would’ve been sleeping in before I had stuff going on this afternoon,” she rambled.
There was a pause as Cary thought about the best way to break it to her. Then he decided he owed it to all of them to just come out with it. “Morgan’s at the hospital. Nate, Jon and I are with her.”
“Why? What happened?” Jess asked, her mouth suddenly dry.
“She got drunk and took a whole bunch of pills. He and Nate found a bunch, with some of yours and Jon’s in her sweatshirt. Jon found a note…” he trailed off. “She’s okay, though. We got her here in time.”
“Oh, shit,” Jess choked out. She got herself together and managed, “Well, thank you guys, for taking care of her.”
“No problem,” Cary assured her, but sighed knowing there was more. “Nate’s been trying to get a hold of Morgan’s parents, but they’re on vacation in Mexico or something. They just woke up, and when Nate asked what to do, her mom said to ask you guys… Whoever‘s in charge. Nate said that‘s you. Morgan’s parents didn’t want anything to do with it. Said they already have one screwed up daughter and they don’t need another. They don’t need this right now.”
“So what the hell are we supposed to do?” Jess muttered, dropping her voice. The last thing she wanted to do was let the others overhear before she knew what they were dealing with.
Cary massaged his forehead. “I got a hold of Pete. Her brother?” he questioned, making sure he had the relation right.
“Twin brother, yeah.”
“Anyway, he said he caught Morgan with pills and crap back in December when she went home for the holiday break. He told their parents and I guess they all sat down and had a big talk about it. They threatened to send her to rehab, but she promised to get straight, so I guess they backed down.
“She’s here for now on a 72-hour psych hold. After that, since her parents aren’t involved, I guess it’s up to you girls. If you need help looking at rehabs or help with anything, let me know. I think Jon and Nate are gonna stop by after they’re done here. I can, too, if you want. I can watch play with Christian or whatever while you guys figure out a plan for her.”
“All right,” Jess managed, trying to put the jumbled pieces together in her mind. Morgan was in the psych ward and the next step was up to her? Jess wondered if they would have made the same choice if they knew she was only four months removed from being shot in the head.
“Hold on… The guys are here, I gotta let you go, but we’ll be in touch,” Cary promised.
--
“What’s up?” he asked staring at Nathaniel and Jon, who were both red-eyed and looked shell-shocked.
“They made us leave,” Nate explained, his voice hoarse.
Cary noticed belatedly that someone had given his boyfriend a pair of blue hospital scrubs and little hospital booties, since his own pants and shoes were disgusting. He looked run into the ground, dark circles around his eyes, and his hand shook as he ran it though his hair.
“She was swearing at us, telling us to go to hell. Ripping out her IV and charging the door like a linebacker.” Jon explained, running his hand down the side of his face with the scar and cringing.
“The staff’s all over us for not bringing her in sooner, telling us she’ll only get better when she dies. They think she’s too far gone to save.” Jon sat down heavily in a chair beside Cary and took a few deep breaths.
“Well, she’s alive, so she has a chance,” Cary said defiantly.
“Thank God she has insurance, but we had no idea what to put on all the forms,” Nate told him, resting his head on Cary’s shoulder. “Who were you talking to?”
“Jess. I think we’re gonna have to head that way after we’re done here. Do you have a number where you can reach Morgan?”
“Yeah…not like she’d take our calls anyway,” Nate said darkly.
Cary gave Nate’s head a kiss. “She’ll turn around,” he promised. “Right now, you’re not dealing with Morgan, you’re dealing with the shit she put in her body. Once that’s done and she withdraws and everything, she’ll be herself again,” Cary explained, yawning.
Who knew it would come in handy that he’d grown up with a alcoholic father? He knew too much about this kind of thing. Now there was nothing to do but share it, and hope that the knowledge did some good.
--
Jess had gathered everyone around their little table, and at the last minute, chickened out and decided to wait for Jon, Nate and Cary.
They ate in silence, as much from exhaustion as anything else.
Jess thought back to the days when they used to all get together for a meal every Monday.
They called it Monday Madness, like football. She couldn’t remember who had coined the term, but it definitely fit. Those nights had been special and precious and totally crazy. And she had been able to cook something better than Toaster Strudels and tea, too. Her spaghetti had been everyone’s favorite. She couldn’t remember the last time she had made it, and Jess cursed herself for even thinking about cooking when Morgan was at some hospital, after overdosing on pills and alcohol.
When the last three boys arrived looking haggard and defeated, Jess dragged out the folding chairs and prepared to share the news with her friends, and then prayed that they would know what the hell to do next.
“Liam was right,” she said, not knowing how else to start. “Morgan is in trouble. She went over to Jon and Nate’s last night after she’d gotten drunk and taken a bunch of pills.”
“Holy shit,” Coby breathed, putting his head in his hands.
“We searched her pockets and found a whole bunch of pills she’d taken from here, and probably the other places, too. There was a note,” Jon said flatly, not able to inflect anything in his tone of voice. “She wrote it weeks ago, but Nate and I…we think probably Liam’s idea to take back the room probably put her over the edge… The three of us,” he said, looking at Nate and Cary in turn, “drove her to the hospital a couple hours ago.”
“Where was Liam?” Libby demanded, her eyes flashing dark and dangerous. She knew her brother well enough to know that his plea for prayer was covering up something.
“He was home,” Nate confirmed. “In complete denial about everything….” he trailed off as images Liam making out with Morgan, both barely dressed, filled his mind. “I can’t do this,” he exclaimed suddenly, scraping his chair back.
Cary got up, too, walking with him into the living room. Thankfully, the TV was still on, playing Spongebob reruns. That was as good a distraction as any. He coaxed Nate to sit on his lap and scratched his back as he sang the theme song softly.
In the kitchen, Libby continued to press. “Did he give her something? What did he do?”
Jon gripped the edge of the table. “We sort of walked in on them, making out,” he admitted. “Nate and I and Cary. Looked like they were on their way to more than that. He insisted she came onto him and that he was powerless to stop it. She kept saying she wanted to, but…you guys know…”
Libby choked out a sob. She didn’t want to believe that her brother would take advantage of Morgan, but she couldn’t help but believe it. In the last 24 hours, it had become abundantly clear that while he cared about others, he cared about himself more.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have done what he had to Morgan, and he wouldn’t have done what he had done to her. Making her go back to all those places, just so he could feel better. Though Libby didn’t know for sure how it would turn out for Morgan, she knew for sure that she wanted nothing more to do with her brother.
Bryan’s eyes blazed bright and furious, while Aaron simply looked ill. Legend’s mouth had fallen open and she hadn’t managed to close it yet. Emily was sitting very still, while Coby clenched one hand into a fist on the table, while he held onto Jess with the other.
No matter how Jess tried, she couldn’t wrap her brain around what she knew. But she knew there was more that needed to be discussed, so before the tension in the room completely exploded, she pushed on.
“Cary got a hold of Morgan’s family. Her mom and dad are on vacation, but they’re really mad about this, so they left whatever happens next up to us.”
“She tried to kill herself, and they’re not even coming back?” Coby asked, disbelieving.
“I guess not,” Jess shrugged. “Sometimes parents don’t care. Or they just can’t anymore,” she said, squeezing his hand.
He squeezed back. Jess would know, he thought. Her own parents were just like that. But he hadn’t known or ever guessed that Morgan’s were, too.
“So, it’s up to us what happens next. The hospital can keep her for 72 hours. Cary talked to Pete, though, and I guess she was even taking pills and stuff when she went home at Christmas. They talked about rehab, but she convinced them she didn’t need it or something. Right now, though, that sounds like it might be our only option.”
“How are we going to know what to do?” Emily asked, clearly overwhelmed.
“We pray,” Aaron said, certainly. “Nate and Cary, get your butts out here. We’re praying for guidance for Morgan,” he called softly.
Both men in the other room came back in and Cary offered softly. “You guys should know. I’m not Christian. If that means you don’t want me to participate, I understand.”
“If you’re comfortable staying, we want you to stay. You don’t have to pray. Just think good thoughts, or pray to whoever you do believe in,” Aaron offered, and was touched when Cary removed his hat, bowed his head and joined hands with the rest.
Then they prayed. For guidance and wisdom for themselves, and for strength, comfort and peace for Morgan.
Without taking time to think about it, Aaron ripped his alarm clock out of the wall, and clutched it in his hands. If all else failed, maybe he could hit their intruder in the head and knock him out.
He could already hear Coby and Bryan, up and talking to each other, so Aaron crept down the hall, clock in hand, the cord dragging like a tail. His heart was beating in his throat. Aaron’s eyes widened as he saw Coby wielding a hammer and Bryan with a large kitchen knife.
“Who the hell is it?!” Bryan demanded, his voice so terrifying that Aaron actually believed he could run somebody through with that in order to protect his own life, as well as theirs.
“Liam!” the voice on the other side of the door insisted. But all three glanced at each other, their minds cloaked in fear.
Not one of them made a move to unlock the door. To them, the voice sounded eerily familiar, and nothing like Liam. They were all thinking about earlier. About the room. About reliving it all.
The blade of the knife glint in the moonlight as his hand shook, betraying his nerves.
“Prove it, asshole!” Coby ordered menacingly, taking a step toward the door, his hammer cocked and ready to use.
“You guys! Come on! I’m serious! This is serious! Morgan’s in trouble.”
“Keep it down, out there!” a neighbor yelled.
Finally, Bryan risked turning the lock and easing the door open.
“Jesus,” Liam gasped, his eyes wide at the sight of Bryan in an old Boyz II Men tee shirt, and red athletic shorts, carrying what was probably the biggest knife they owned.
Behind him, Liam could see Aaron dressed in blue boxers, his alarm clock poised to throw, and Coby still in jeans from the day before, armed with a hammer.
Liam put his hands up.
“Bryan, put the knife down,” Coby said calmly, though his own heart continued to beat like a war drum. From the looks of things, they had done a decent job of scaring Liam half to death. Which wasn’t exactly what they were going for, though it was kind of satisfying.
Silently, Bryan handed the knife off, handle first, and Coby put it back in the block, and his hammer safely in his toolbox.
Aaron sighed and sat heavily on the couch. “Are you trying to scare the shit out of us?” he accused, setting his alarm clock beside him.
“No! But, guys, this is serious. You need to pray for Morgan. She’s like, way, way backsliding. It’s really bad. I don’t have time to explain it. But you just need to pray as hard as you ever prayed for anything. Pray that she turns back to the Lord…”
Just as unexpectedly as Liam had arrived, he was gone, out their door and running down the hall.
--
“Where the hell did Liam take off to?” Nate asked, irritated, as he tried unsuccessfully to sit Morgan up. Liam had done nothing but make a bad situation so much worse and now he had left, when they really could have used another pair of hands.
“Who knows?” Jon grunted, catching Morgan as she fell forward onto him, and leaning her back against Nate.
It remained Nate’s goal to keep Morgan awake and talking. Jonathan was doing his best to get her dressed, and Cary was on the phone, trying to get a hold of her parents, or any of his friends who might know what to do in this situation. Other than the obvious, getting her to the hospital. He had already decided they needed to keep the pills Jon and Nate found in her sweatshirt and the note, too. So Cary had put them in his pocket for safekeeping.
“Don’t,” Morgan moaned. “I’m fine…Just leave me alone…”
Jonathan squinted at her. She was definitely getting worse fast. Whatever she had taken was starting to kick in. They should have never let her fall asleep in the first place. What if she lost consciousness?
He pushed that thought out of his mind, and concentrated on getting clothes on his friend, as quickly and compassionately as possible.
“No…” she whined, trying to move away from the hands that touched her. But her body felt like it was all liquid, and her brain felt like mush. She couldn’t make sense of anything, except that she was tired, and anxious and scared.
“It’s okay,” Jon said. “We’ve got to get you dressed so we can go, okay? I don’t want you to be cold.”
She mumbled something unintelligible, as Nate managed to get Morgan’s shirt over her head. He wrapped her in the blanket, forgoing shoes and socks, in favor of simply getting to the hospital.
Jon carried her to his car and laid her across the backseat, her head resting on Nate’s lap. Cary sat in the passenger seat, using his phone and its navigator to get them to the closest hospital. Despite being a patient there, Jonathan had been weak from blood loss and in shock the last time he’d been there as a patient, and couldn’t remember the first thing about how to get there.
Nate swallowed his fear, and concentrated on Morgan, whose skin was ashy and sweaty. Her breathing was faster than he thought it should have been, and he was about to comment when she started to choke.
“If she’s vomiting turn her on her side,” Cary instructed, while Jon honked and swore at the traffic.
Shifting Morgan, so her head lolled to the side, Nate was relieved when she started to vomit.
“Good girl,” he said quietly, though his stomach churned at the sound of her heaving. “You get rid of all that,” he encouraged, not caring that her sickness was all down the front of the legs of his jeans.
“Keep her talking. Is she talking?” Jon asked, his voice tense, as he sped through a yellow light. If a cop pulled him over, all the better. They could use the escort.
“Talk to me, sweetie,” Nate said softly. When he got no response, fear intensified his voice. “Morgan. I need you to talk to me. Do you understand?”
“Can’t…I feel like shit…” she whimpered.
“Okay,” Nate sighed, relieved. “She’s talking. Says she feels like shit.”
“Good,” Jon answered incongruously. “Morgan, you hang in there. You hear me?”
“Turn left here,” Cary advised. “It should be on the right. You can pull right up to the emergency entrance. This is an emergency,” he said, jumping out of the car before it was even completely stopped.
Cary opened Nate’s door and crouched, waiting for him to pass Morgan off to him.
The minute she was in his arms, Cary took off through the doors, Jonathan and Nathaniel on his heels.
“We need help!” he called in a commanding tone. Vaguely, he was aware of Morgan stiffening in his arms. “It’s okay,” he reassured softly. “You’re going to be fine, okay?”
“What happened?” someone in uniform asked as she rushed forward.
“Attempted suicide,” Cary managed as someone took Morgan from his arms.
--
Christian couldn’t breathe when he heard the sound of a scary stranger pounding on the door. He had been having a bad dream about Uncle Jesse from Full House dressed in a hockey mask with a big ax, coming to kill them all, like the bad guy probably tried to do to his mom and all her friends.
He started crying very hard, and he could tell the big girls were scared too. Libby, Emily and Legend were holding hands. His mom swallowed once and then got up to answer the door. Her face looked the same as it did when the robber came and was going to beat her up one time.
“No, Mom!” he sobbed, climbing over the other girls, and stepping on their hands. He didn’t care. He had to stop her from opening the door.
Christian clung to her legs, trying to climb Jess like a tree, causing her to sway unsteadily. He shook and sobbed, and it was the exact reaction she wanted to have. Except that somebody had to stay in control.
“Jess, don’t!” Emily screamed.
“Emily, stop it,’ Jess managed, willing her voice not to shake. She stopped a few feet from the door, and called out. The pounding was making her head ache, and her skin crawl.
“Who is it?” she asked in a hard voice, daring their night-visitor to try anything.
When the locked door eased open and a shape stood silhouetted in the doorway, all of them screamed.
“Hey! It’s Liam! Calm down! I have a key, remember?”
“Oh, I’m gonna kill him…” Libby vowed, forcing herself to breathe. Who did he think he was anyway? Hadn’t he done enough damage already? Why did he have to come knocking at their door like some crazed lunatic before it was even light out.
“Lib, hush,” Legend managed, though she’d very nearly hyperventilated.
But Libby was already up and in front of Jess, throwing the hallway light to glare at Liam. “Who the hell do you think you are?” she asked, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and jerking him inside. “You scared us half to death.”
“I’m sorry, okay? But we’ve got bigger problems here,” Liam managed, looking at them with wide gray eyes. “You need to pray for Morgan.”
“What are you talking about?” Jess asked, raising her voice to be heard over Christian’s cries. “Morgan’s here. She came home earlier.”
“Well, she’s not here now, because she was at my place. Which is how I know this in the first place.” Liam said matter-of-factly. “She’s in a lot of trouble, girls. Really backsliding. We need to pray her back in.”
“You are ridiculous,” Libby spat, and then cowered as the open doorway filled unexpectedly with people.
“Hey, it’s just us,” Coby reassured, pushing his way past Liam and inside where he put his arms around Jess and Christian.
“I’m sorry. We tried to get here before he did, but by the time he left our place and we figured out that he was probably one his way here, he already had a head start.”
Christian attached himself to Coby instantly, sobbing incoherently into his neck. “Bad guy’s…gonna…get my…mom!”
Coby bit his lip and looked over Christian’s head at Jess. She looked like she had seen a ghost.
“Hey,” he managed, forcing himself to sound in control. “You know what? That’s what I thought, too, okay? I thought it was a bad guy. But it’s not, see?” Coby reassured, coaxing Christian’s face out of his bare shoulder to peek at who had really come in. “It was just Liam, being impolite.”
Bryan went to Emily and Legend, putting his hands on either sides of both of their faces, as if to make sure they were really there in front of him. “Are you two okay?” he asked.
Emily nodded, looking perilously close to tears, and Legend refused to meet his eyes - terrified that she might accidentally catch a glimpse of Liam who had managed to dress in her least favorite color combination ever. Black jeans and a red hooded sweatshirt. She especially hated seeing people wear red, and refused to wear it herself, anymore. But Liam managed to remind her entirely too much of Buddy in his chosen attire.
“Hey. It’s all right,” Bryan reassured. “Let’s go in the kitchen. Want to?” he asked, as he saw Coby dragging Jess and Christian’s futon mattress back to their room as both of them followed closely behind.
Aaron stood by Libby, refusing to leave her alone with Liam. He had shown less than great judgment so far, with insisting they all go back to that horrible study room for no rational reason Aaron could think of. And then to come pounding on all their doors when he knew they would be all worked up over it? He shook his head.
“You guys!” Liam called, alarmed. “Come back here! Didn’t you hear? Morgan’s got serious spiritual warfare going on in her life right now. We need to fight it with a holy violence.”
“You stupid jerk,” Libby managed, between clenched teeth. “You can take your holy violence and shove it!”
“I can’t believe you don’t care enough about Morgan to pray for her deliverance,” Liam managed, shaking his head.
“Dude,” Aaron interrupted seriously, before Libby had the chance to say anything more. “Liam, I think you should go. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re not helping. It’s late, and we’re exhausted. Just go home.”
“I’m talking to my sister,” Liam explained in placating tone that held a hint of threat.
“No, you’re not. Just get out,” Libby nodded toward the door. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“Fine… I guess Morgan and I know who our true friends are,” Liam huffed, slamming the door behind him.
--
Since Coby had thankfully taken over trying to get CJ back to sleep, and everyone else was sprawled all over the living room watching cartoons, trying to relax, Jess decided that
she might as well start breakfast. Most of them were still here, and everyone was awake. It was almost six now. Liam had left an hour before, and the house was settling down again. But she was about to start making calls, when her phone rang.
Jess snatched it up, before the noise woke up Christian.
“Hello?” she asked, sticking bread in the toaster and then changing her mind and going with strawberry Toaster Strudels. Those tasted especially nice on stressful days, and Jess ought to know about those.
“Hey, Jess?” a vaguely familiar voice asked.
“Yeah, this is Jess. Who is this?” she asked, pressing the lever on the front of the toaster down.
“This is Cary Mackey. We met earlier,” he said, biting his lip. This wasn’t going to be an easy call to make.
“Hey, Cary. What’s up?” she asked, trying to multitask and putting water in the kettle for tea. “You’re lucky we had a crazy night over here, and I was up this early, otherwise I would’ve been sleeping in before I had stuff going on this afternoon,” she rambled.
There was a pause as Cary thought about the best way to break it to her. Then he decided he owed it to all of them to just come out with it. “Morgan’s at the hospital. Nate, Jon and I are with her.”
“Why? What happened?” Jess asked, her mouth suddenly dry.
“She got drunk and took a whole bunch of pills. He and Nate found a bunch, with some of yours and Jon’s in her sweatshirt. Jon found a note…” he trailed off. “She’s okay, though. We got her here in time.”
“Oh, shit,” Jess choked out. She got herself together and managed, “Well, thank you guys, for taking care of her.”
“No problem,” Cary assured her, but sighed knowing there was more. “Nate’s been trying to get a hold of Morgan’s parents, but they’re on vacation in Mexico or something. They just woke up, and when Nate asked what to do, her mom said to ask you guys… Whoever‘s in charge. Nate said that‘s you. Morgan’s parents didn’t want anything to do with it. Said they already have one screwed up daughter and they don’t need another. They don’t need this right now.”
“So what the hell are we supposed to do?” Jess muttered, dropping her voice. The last thing she wanted to do was let the others overhear before she knew what they were dealing with.
Cary massaged his forehead. “I got a hold of Pete. Her brother?” he questioned, making sure he had the relation right.
“Twin brother, yeah.”
“Anyway, he said he caught Morgan with pills and crap back in December when she went home for the holiday break. He told their parents and I guess they all sat down and had a big talk about it. They threatened to send her to rehab, but she promised to get straight, so I guess they backed down.
“She’s here for now on a 72-hour psych hold. After that, since her parents aren’t involved, I guess it’s up to you girls. If you need help looking at rehabs or help with anything, let me know. I think Jon and Nate are gonna stop by after they’re done here. I can, too, if you want. I can watch play with Christian or whatever while you guys figure out a plan for her.”
“All right,” Jess managed, trying to put the jumbled pieces together in her mind. Morgan was in the psych ward and the next step was up to her? Jess wondered if they would have made the same choice if they knew she was only four months removed from being shot in the head.
“Hold on… The guys are here, I gotta let you go, but we’ll be in touch,” Cary promised.
--
“What’s up?” he asked staring at Nathaniel and Jon, who were both red-eyed and looked shell-shocked.
“They made us leave,” Nate explained, his voice hoarse.
Cary noticed belatedly that someone had given his boyfriend a pair of blue hospital scrubs and little hospital booties, since his own pants and shoes were disgusting. He looked run into the ground, dark circles around his eyes, and his hand shook as he ran it though his hair.
“She was swearing at us, telling us to go to hell. Ripping out her IV and charging the door like a linebacker.” Jon explained, running his hand down the side of his face with the scar and cringing.
“The staff’s all over us for not bringing her in sooner, telling us she’ll only get better when she dies. They think she’s too far gone to save.” Jon sat down heavily in a chair beside Cary and took a few deep breaths.
“Well, she’s alive, so she has a chance,” Cary said defiantly.
“Thank God she has insurance, but we had no idea what to put on all the forms,” Nate told him, resting his head on Cary’s shoulder. “Who were you talking to?”
“Jess. I think we’re gonna have to head that way after we’re done here. Do you have a number where you can reach Morgan?”
“Yeah…not like she’d take our calls anyway,” Nate said darkly.
Cary gave Nate’s head a kiss. “She’ll turn around,” he promised. “Right now, you’re not dealing with Morgan, you’re dealing with the shit she put in her body. Once that’s done and she withdraws and everything, she’ll be herself again,” Cary explained, yawning.
Who knew it would come in handy that he’d grown up with a alcoholic father? He knew too much about this kind of thing. Now there was nothing to do but share it, and hope that the knowledge did some good.
--
Jess had gathered everyone around their little table, and at the last minute, chickened out and decided to wait for Jon, Nate and Cary.
They ate in silence, as much from exhaustion as anything else.
Jess thought back to the days when they used to all get together for a meal every Monday.
They called it Monday Madness, like football. She couldn’t remember who had coined the term, but it definitely fit. Those nights had been special and precious and totally crazy. And she had been able to cook something better than Toaster Strudels and tea, too. Her spaghetti had been everyone’s favorite. She couldn’t remember the last time she had made it, and Jess cursed herself for even thinking about cooking when Morgan was at some hospital, after overdosing on pills and alcohol.
When the last three boys arrived looking haggard and defeated, Jess dragged out the folding chairs and prepared to share the news with her friends, and then prayed that they would know what the hell to do next.
“Liam was right,” she said, not knowing how else to start. “Morgan is in trouble. She went over to Jon and Nate’s last night after she’d gotten drunk and taken a bunch of pills.”
“Holy shit,” Coby breathed, putting his head in his hands.
“We searched her pockets and found a whole bunch of pills she’d taken from here, and probably the other places, too. There was a note,” Jon said flatly, not able to inflect anything in his tone of voice. “She wrote it weeks ago, but Nate and I…we think probably Liam’s idea to take back the room probably put her over the edge… The three of us,” he said, looking at Nate and Cary in turn, “drove her to the hospital a couple hours ago.”
“Where was Liam?” Libby demanded, her eyes flashing dark and dangerous. She knew her brother well enough to know that his plea for prayer was covering up something.
“He was home,” Nate confirmed. “In complete denial about everything….” he trailed off as images Liam making out with Morgan, both barely dressed, filled his mind. “I can’t do this,” he exclaimed suddenly, scraping his chair back.
Cary got up, too, walking with him into the living room. Thankfully, the TV was still on, playing Spongebob reruns. That was as good a distraction as any. He coaxed Nate to sit on his lap and scratched his back as he sang the theme song softly.
In the kitchen, Libby continued to press. “Did he give her something? What did he do?”
Jon gripped the edge of the table. “We sort of walked in on them, making out,” he admitted. “Nate and I and Cary. Looked like they were on their way to more than that. He insisted she came onto him and that he was powerless to stop it. She kept saying she wanted to, but…you guys know…”
Libby choked out a sob. She didn’t want to believe that her brother would take advantage of Morgan, but she couldn’t help but believe it. In the last 24 hours, it had become abundantly clear that while he cared about others, he cared about himself more.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have done what he had to Morgan, and he wouldn’t have done what he had done to her. Making her go back to all those places, just so he could feel better. Though Libby didn’t know for sure how it would turn out for Morgan, she knew for sure that she wanted nothing more to do with her brother.
Bryan’s eyes blazed bright and furious, while Aaron simply looked ill. Legend’s mouth had fallen open and she hadn’t managed to close it yet. Emily was sitting very still, while Coby clenched one hand into a fist on the table, while he held onto Jess with the other.
No matter how Jess tried, she couldn’t wrap her brain around what she knew. But she knew there was more that needed to be discussed, so before the tension in the room completely exploded, she pushed on.
“Cary got a hold of Morgan’s family. Her mom and dad are on vacation, but they’re really mad about this, so they left whatever happens next up to us.”
“She tried to kill herself, and they’re not even coming back?” Coby asked, disbelieving.
“I guess not,” Jess shrugged. “Sometimes parents don’t care. Or they just can’t anymore,” she said, squeezing his hand.
He squeezed back. Jess would know, he thought. Her own parents were just like that. But he hadn’t known or ever guessed that Morgan’s were, too.
“So, it’s up to us what happens next. The hospital can keep her for 72 hours. Cary talked to Pete, though, and I guess she was even taking pills and stuff when she went home at Christmas. They talked about rehab, but she convinced them she didn’t need it or something. Right now, though, that sounds like it might be our only option.”
“How are we going to know what to do?” Emily asked, clearly overwhelmed.
“We pray,” Aaron said, certainly. “Nate and Cary, get your butts out here. We’re praying for guidance for Morgan,” he called softly.
Both men in the other room came back in and Cary offered softly. “You guys should know. I’m not Christian. If that means you don’t want me to participate, I understand.”
“If you’re comfortable staying, we want you to stay. You don’t have to pray. Just think good thoughts, or pray to whoever you do believe in,” Aaron offered, and was touched when Cary removed his hat, bowed his head and joined hands with the rest.
Then they prayed. For guidance and wisdom for themselves, and for strength, comfort and peace for Morgan.
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