Pick-me-up

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Pick-me-up Page 28

by Cecilia La France


  *****

  “We’re going to see your dad tomorrow,” Katelyn’s mom announced on the way to school, “so both of you need to get your homework assignments from your teachers today.”

  Katelyn looked up in surprise. “What?”

  “Yes, a day out of school,” Brianna rejoiced from the back seat.

  Katelyn’s dad had come home before school started. He had lost his job in Utah. Some of his crew were arrested for possession. Brian was arrested on the same charge, but the cops didn’t end up proving anything other than use. The construction company fired him, and he came home.

  The problem was that he skipped his court date in Utah, and he never reported the charge to his parole officer in Iowa. It would mean her dad’s third strike and some serious jail this time.

  It took about three weeks for the law to catch up to him. The cops stopped him for speeding. Her dad also happened to be high on a local batch of crystal at the time. His stay at the Story County Jail was brief because they shipped him off to a high security treatment facility about 100 miles away.

  “But I’m supposed to work tomorrow night,” Katelyn frowned. Her dad had fought with her nonstop when he came back from Utah. He didn’t like Tim, nor did he like the idea of Katelyn having a boyfriend. When he was arrested, Katelyn didn’t know whether to feel glad that he would be out of her hair or sad because he was messed up again. Mostly, she was mad.

  “We should be back by 3 p.m. The counselor wants a family session at 10 a.m.” Her mom’s voice didn’t reveal any emotion. It stayed hard like it had been for weeks.

  Katelyn really thought it might be the end this time, that her mom wouldn’t let her dad back in the house this time. But, he was at the treatment center. He’d never gone to one of those before. He hadn’t even been allowed to call home the first week, and when he did finally, Katelyn caught her mom crying in relief.

  Since then, Katelyn had her own phone conversations with him. They were brief, for the most part, about school, the kids, her job, Tim, or whatever he’d share about his daily schedule. Katelyn didn’t know how she felt about visiting him.

  The next day, after dropping Kayla and Jacob at Katelyn’s grandma’s house, she, Brianna, and her mom made the trip north. The treatment center was its own wing in a county hospital. Before being allowed into the center, they had to empty their pockets, and a guard searched Katelyn’s bag. “You can pick this up on your way out,” he said.

  Katelyn scoffed at the bottle of Midol the guard took from her bag. “For real?” she said. She signed a form and waited in silence with her mom and Brianna in the stark waiting area.

  “Mrs. Wells?” An unusually tall man looked up from a clipboard at her mom. “I’m Brian’s rehabilitation therapist. Come with me, please.” He led them to a slightly nicer room with cushioned chairs and shelves holding paperback books and games.

  The therapist talked to them alone first. “Meth addiction doesn’t just affect the user,” the therapist said in calm confidence. “Family members suffer just as much.”

  No shit, Einstein, Katelyn thought. There’s no money for food, crazy ass fights, lies, and, oh, no dad in the picture at random intervals of my life. But, she stayed silent and heard what he had to say about “this vicious poison” and how often so many people relapsed. Her ideas about choice and control were being asked to redefine themselves.

  Maybe I’m too hard on my dad, she thought. It’s easy to be mad at people, but maybe she was really mad at this drug.

  The scariest part was the medical stuff the therapist told them. He gave them a pamphlet with some statistics laid out on glossy colored paper. Color photographs of gross teeth, skin sores, and messed up brain scans made her stomach curl. Katelyn tried to ignore the warning about increased risk for HIV/AIDS transmission, but her mom’s jaw clenched when the therapist mentioned sexual behavior issues.

  Katelyn followed the addict symptom chart in the pamphlet. She couldn’t help but mentally circle some of the symptoms: sunken eyes, loss of appetite, sleeplessness, irritability, paranoia. But, the line that really scared her was that her dad was just asking for heart failure. All of this just for a high.

  Once, she had caught Tim and Christian using when she stopped over at his house. A few burnt pieces of foil and a lighter were on the basement coffee table in front of them. She knew it wasn’t pot. The smell was like a chemical burning instead of the sour grass smell of weed. When Katelyn asked him about it, Tim became really upset and shoved her off the couch. She was sure it was Meth. Tim didn’t act mean when he smoked pot.

  Katelyn folded up the brochure and put it in her pocket. Tim had to know about this. She would give the pamphlet to him. Maybe she could help him.

  The therapist left. When her dad was ushered into the room with the family, he was quiet. His shoulders were more relaxed than normal. It was the closest she had ever seen her dad to being at peace.

  And then he shocked them all. He apologized. He uncomfortably worked his way up to it, and then he said, “I’m sorry I’m hurting you.” And nothing else. He didn’t keep going. He didn’t ramble on with excuses.

  Seconds or weight couldn’t measure the silence in the room. Katelyn looked around at her dad, her mom, and Brianna. Eventually, her mom reached out her hand and placed it on her dad’s. Katelyn moved in a little closer and put hers on top of her mom’s. Katelyn turned to Brianna and saw her sister’s face streaked with tears. She reluctantly lifted her hand and then finished the stack to connect the family.

  “I’m one month sober, Karen.” He looked from her mom to Katelyn and Brianna, tears welling in his eyes. “Girls, I’m not going to make you promises.” He looked down but disappeared into himself. “This time I’m making myself a promise.”

 

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