Shannon's Hope Page 20

  Male laughter.

  I was shocked. Keisha had never had visitors when I’d come before, and yet it shouldn’t have surprised me too much. Someone had to be giving her the drugs she needed. I knocked anyway. The laughter cut off abruptly, followed by the sound of movement and hushed voices, barely discernible behind the door. There was a peephole so I knew Keisha knew it was me when she asked who it was through the door.

  “It’s Shannon,” I said. “Can we talk for a minute?”

  “It’s not a good time,” she said, still not opening the door. “I’m really sick today.”

  But not so sick that she couldn’t have company. I realized then that I hadn’t texted her to tell her I was coming, which I had always done before.

  “Did you get to your meeting today?” That was one of the things that had given me confidence these last few weeks—that she claimed to be attending her meetings regularly. But after last night, I wondered why it hadn’t bothered me that the meetings obviously weren’t working.

  “Oh, yeah, I totally went,” Keisha said from the other side of the door. “It was really good, but then I got sick and so I just need to rest.”

  It wasn’t like she hadn’t lied to me before; I should be used to it, right? But this lie hurt in a different way. I was keeping her off the street, but she wouldn’t open the door for me? She would make up a stupid story she knew I would want to believe and tell it so casually?

  “Please open the door, Keisha,” I said, more forceful than usual. “If you’re sick, maybe I can help.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured me, sounding the tiniest bit annoyed.

  “Then let me in to make sure you’re okay. That way I can go home and not worry.” What a pathetic truth! If I knew she was okay, then I could be okay. “Keisha, please.”

  “Uh, okay, just a minute.”

  The was more movement, more whispering, and finally she pulled open the door, but only wide enough to let me slip past and into the room. She was wearing a tank top without a bra underneath it, and a pair of cutoffs hung on her bony hips. Her hair was brushed but she had what looked like yesterday’s makeup on her eyes. She had the distant look of someone high, and her body moved back and forth slightly. I wondered if she noticed it. The room smelled like burnt diapers. The door to the bathroom was closed, likely hiding her visitor.

  “See, I’m fine,” she said, smiling, though her eyes didn’t focus on me. “I really need to get some sleep, Shannon. I’m going to go out looking for jobs tonight. As soon as I’m feeling better I’m gonna hit it hard.”

  My anger began to dissolve into the familiar fear, but I couldn’t let it rule this exchange. I had to be stronger than that. “Keisha, what’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Gosh.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m sick.” She pretended to cough. “And I don’t want you to get it, so you should probably go. But I’m fine, I swear. And guess what, I’m four days clean today, I haven’t used since Friday.” She smiled wide at me, like a little girl awaiting praise. “Aren’t you proud of me?”

  I looked at the closed door to the bathroom, then at the bed and finally into her eyes. I could tell her that I wasn’t paying for the room anymore, that I didn’t believe she was going to meetings or applying for work or any of those things. I could force a confrontation and . . . then what? Confront the man in the bathroom too? I felt the tears rising. I tried to blink them back, but if she noticed them she didn’t comment.

  “I better go,” I said, turning back to the door, which she was still holding open.

  “’Kay,” she said. She followed me across the threshold, hurrying to close the door behind us, though she didn’t shut it all the way. “Oh, uh, could I borrow a little more money? I’m out of food and stuff. I swear I’ll pay you back when I get a job. It’ll give me a good excuse to keep seeing you when I’m back on my feet, ya know?”

  “I don’t have any cash,” I said.

  “There’s an ATM in the lobby,” she assured me, pointing toward the front desk of the hotel. “You could get some cash from that, right? Not much or anything; I’m fine just eating granola bars, you know. The hotel provides coffee—thank goodness, right?” She smiled that we’re-best-friends smile, and I found myself nodding.

  I went to the lobby and paid the three-dollar transaction fee to withdraw twenty dollars. When I knocked on Keisha’s door a minute later, she opened it, pretending to cough again. I held out the money and watched the disappointment on her face. She’d thought I’d give her more—I usually did.

  “It’s all I’ve got,” I said, still watching her face.

  “Okay,” she said with a shoulder shrug, taking the money as though she was doing me a favor. “Thanks.” She stepped back and started to shut the door. “Um, why don’t you text me before you come over next time—you know, just so I can get ready and stuff.”

  “Sure,” I said, still watching her. She closed the door until it was only open about six inches, then coughed again. Was this what John saw when he looked at me? The same fool Keisha was taking me for? In the next breath, however, I played along. “I hope you feel better.”

  “I’m sure it’s not serious,” she said. The door narrowed to four inches. “It’s just tough getting clean, you know? But I’m doing it, Shannon. I’m fighting the fight!” She grinned widely at me. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Sure,” I said automatically as the door closed some more.

  “Love you, Shan.” The door snapped closed. The chain slid into the lock, and a few seconds later I heard muffled voices again, more laughter; Keisha’s this time. I couldn’t help but wonder if she wasn’t laughing at me.

  “Love you too,” I whispered as I turned back to my car. Once in the driver’s seat, I pulled Detective Pierce’s card from my pocket and stared at it for a few seconds before getting my phone out of my purse and doing the hardest thing I’d ever done in my life.

  Chapter 37

  Saturday was my day off, and I welcomed the break. I went to Landon’s games—another doubleheader—and then cleaned the house, paid bills, and dug in the flower beds, but thoughts of Keisha hung over my head every second of the day. I had been waiting for her to call for four days, but I’d heard nothing. John had talked to Detective Pierce, who had handled her arrest, but John hadn’t talked to Keisha either. It was killing me to not know how she was doing. Would they give her anything to help her with the withdrawals? Was she through the worst of it, or was she still feeling as though she were going to die?

  I thought of every cop show I’d ever seen and felt sick to my stomach, imagining Keisha as one of those people in handcuffs, getting fingerprinted and then thrown into a cell. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t call me. She needed me more than ever now, right?

  At six o’clock, I cleaned up and went to book group. I had promised Aunt Ruby I’d go and wanted to make sure she knew I was ready to rebuild things between us. I was late though—again—so I planted a smile on my face and made my apologies while I took my seat. Ruby gave me an extra squeezy hug, but I knew we wouldn’t talk about everything with the group here so we both headed into the living room and took our seats. Ilana wasn’t there, and I felt my shoulders drop. Had we scared her away? Had we made everything worse? Tori caught my eye from where she sat on the far side of the room and smiled, but I was wishing I’d stayed home. I didn’t even know these women.

  I’m so lonely.

  The admission took me off guard enough that I said it again: I’m so lonely. The truth settled around me like feathers, and my chest tightened with emotion. Here I was, surrounded by these women and doing nothing to get to know them better. I’d been coming to this book group for nearly eight months, and the only reason I knew Tori even a little bit was because she’d come to me for help. Yet these women were friends with each other; they were laughing and talking and leaving me alone—like I wanted them to. But was that what I really wanted? How could I change it? I was who I was. Where could I start? I didn’t even kn
ow, and that depressed me more than anything. Did I know what healthy friendships were? Did I know how to be a part of one, or could I only feel connected to people in crisis?

  The doorbell rang, and Ruby got up to answer the door. If Daisy was still on bed rest, then it had to be Ilana at the door. I looked at Tori again and wished I had time to talk to her. She gave me another smile and lifted her shoulders. She didn’t know any more than I did.

  I relaxed a little bit as I listened to Ilana and Ruby talking in the foyer; then Ruby came back in, and Ilana followed behind her, pausing in the doorway to scan the room. She made eye contact with me, though not long enough for me to gauge her mood.

  The conversations had started dying down when Ruby had left to answer the door, and everyone seemed to be facing Ilana, as though we could start now that she was here. She lifted the book and said, “Great selection, Ruby.”

  I tried not to make it obvious that I was watching her, but I was, and when I glanced at Tori, I thought Tori was too. I shifted in my seat, feeling uncomfortable and yet aware of every movement Ilana made. Would she pretend Monday night hadn’t happened?

  “Now that we’re all here, we can get started,” Aunt Ruby said, picking up the book Gabriel had given her from the coffee table. She fluttered the pages, then pulled out a paper from inside the back cover. “I looked up some information about the author,” she said, then cleared her throat and started reading. I tried to pay attention, I really did, but I couldn’t keep myself from checking my phone in case Keisha had called and I’d missed it since I’d set the phone to vibrate. Was she not calling because she didn’t want to or because they wouldn’t let her?

  “I just loved this story,” Aunt Ruby said. I met her eye and smiled, distracted from my own thoughts for the moment. “One of my favorite parts is how he had all these friends all throughout the journey, different people he’d known from ‘before’ and was visiting again after so many changes.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about since I knew nothing about the book. I didn’t even know if the book was fiction or not, but she kept talking about the “story,” which made me think it was. Though it sounded as though there was a lot of philosophy in it too. Fictional philosophy? Now that was a genre I didn’t see getting its own shelf at the bookstore anytime soon.

  She read a few sections from the book, then talked about electric shock therapy and said again how much she liked the book. You’d think it was the Bible for the conversion she’d had to the different passages. I couldn’t help but smile, though, because I was pretty sure her love of the book might have something to do with the person who had given it to her. Maybe I could talk to her about her life someday soon, though thinking that reminded me of the night she and I had hashed things out about Keisha. I checked my phone again.

  “As you can tell, I loved the book. Anyone else like to jump in?” Aunt Ruby said. I was careful not to make eye contact with anyone, hoping I wouldn’t have to admit that I hadn’t read it.

  “I’d like to share some thoughts I had about the book,” Ilana said, surprising me. She was going to talk about the book?

  She said she hadn’t really loved it at first, but a few days ago—she looked quickly at Tori and me—she’d picked the book up again.

  “Truth is, I’ve been living in denial for some time,” she said, and I felt a tremor go down my spine. Was she going to confess everything? Here, at book group? “And I’ve been angry. Blaming everyone and everything for my miserable life and the pain I was in, although I won’t deny I really was in a lot of pain. But that wasn’t an excuse. I looked around for excuses and a way to fix everything, to make myself feel better and not be so aware of my problems.”

  I nearly dropped my jaw as the words she said washed through me—they could have been my words. I had been looking around for excuses and a way to fix everything too. I had wanted to make myself feel better through helping Keisha get well, rather than focus on the hard things I was facing in my life. They might not be of the same caliber as Ilana’s, but they were hard all the same. Ilana had wanted escape; what had I wanted? To be the hero? To be the one person who would make a difference with Keisha after everyone else tried and failed? Gosh, that sounded pathetic.

  Ilana kept talking, mentioning a hysterectomy she’d had before she hurt her elbow and about the difficulty of accepting a different future than the one she and her husband had worked toward. It wasn’t until Paige handed me a tissue that I realized I was crying. Ilana explained how she’d taken the pain meds because her arm hurt, and then because her heart hurt, and then for any reason she could think of. How did that relate to me?

  Something about tonight, or yesterday, or this whole last week must have opened my heart a little more than I was used to, because it was all suddenly so clear. After my parents had moved away, I had started working so much that I hadn’t left much room for other relationships. I was also feeling left behind by my son, who was growing up and not needing me so much. And despite all the good things in my marriage, I could see that I was angry with John for not bringing in his share of the income. I was horrified to think it, and yet I knew it was true. We were best friends, but I was mad at him, and lately, we had less time together and more stress than ever.

  Having Keisha to take care of filled all those broken places for me. I had someone new in my life—to replace my parents—and someone to take care of—to replace Landon—and someone to hang out with and encourage and feel close to—to replace John. She was my friend and my child and my chance to prove myself powerful. She really was my drug, wasn’t she? She helped me cope with things I didn’t know how to fix. She masked my feelings of insecurity and insignificance just enough that I could pretend they weren’t there.

  I could barely keep up with the tears streaming down my face as I made that connection. My heart ached with the acceptance of it.

  “But the truth is, I do have a problem. I’m an addict.”

  I looked up at Ilana. She’d said it out loud, but I repeated a similar declaration in my mind. But the truth is, I do have a problem. I’m codependent to my stepdaughter’s addiction. I have made it possible for her to be sick because it makes me feel better.

  Ilana talked more about the book, and I took a deep breath, finally getting ahold of my emotions. The women must have thought I was insane. None of the rest of them seemed to be as emotional as I was, though there were some shiny eyes around the room.

  “. . . I won’t be at next month’s meeting.”

  Ruby audibly gasped and put a hand to her chest. “You aren’t quitting, are you? Please say you aren’t.”

  “We want you to stay,” Athena said with a nod.

  “We really do,” Paige agreed.

  “I’ll come back,” she assured us. “But not until I’ve done the work I need to do to fix this mess. On Monday, I’m checking into an inpatient rehab center, and I’ll be there for as long as it takes. It may be a month. It may be longer. I hope to be back for July’s meeting if I miss June.”

  The group finished up on a hopeful note. Ilana was getting help, and she’d called us her friends. I wasn’t sure how to make the transition to also feeling like these women were my friends, but I wanted to start. Somehow. Ruby would help me, I was sure.

  I checked my phone again when I got into the car. I needed to come to terms with the fact that Keisha might never call. I had to find a way to be okay with that.

  It was after nine o’clock when I walked into the kitchen, still in this bubble of discovery that was exhausting and yet freeing and confusing and hard. I smiled at John, who looked up from the paper he was reading, but from the expression on his face I knew something was wrong. My heart seized up.

  “What?” I asked, terrified of the answer. “What’s happened? Is it Keisha?”

  “No,” John said. “But I called Dani to see if she’d heard from her.”

  “Had she?”

  John nodded.

  My back straightened. Keisha hadn’t talked to
her mother in months. “She called . . . Dani?” I repeated. But not me?

  He nodded. “And she had a lot to say. She said Keisha said it was awful living here, that you were so demanding and that I hated having her here. After I kicked her out, you were buying her drugs and then got a hotel room for her and this guy, Tagg, so that they could deal in order to pay you back for the money she owed for school—even though school was all your idea. She told Dani that all she’d wanted was to go home, but that we convinced her that Dani didn’t love her and didn’t want her.”

  I blinked at him, taking a few seconds to catch my breath. “Keisha didn’t say that,” I said, shaking my head. “Dani’s making it up.”

  John shook his head, a sympathetic look on his face.

  “But why would Keisha say something like that?” I said, feeling my chest tighten. I still didn’t believe it. Couldn’t.

  “Because she’s an addict, Shannon,” John said sadly. “And she’ll say anything she can to whoever might help her get a fix or, in this case, bail her out. I would guess that she called Dani because she felt like she’d used us up, that we wouldn’t buy into the games anymore. When she runs through Dani’s patience—of which there isn’t much—she’ll find another tactic to use on someone else. I’ve already told my parents not to take her calls if she tries to contact them. We should tell Ruby and your parents the same thing.”

  I felt my chin quivering as the depth of Keisha’s betrayal washed over me. John came over to me, wrapping his big arms around my shoulders as I crumbled even further. She turned on me? After everything I’d done? My whole body started shaking in reaction to the acceptance of things I’d fought so hard not to believe, an acceptance that had started when I’d listened to David’s story and continued as I’d listened to Ilana’s story tonight.

  “I’m sorry, Shan,” John said into my hair as I completely fell apart. “I really am.”