Crystal Lies

by Melody Carlson

  Jacob doesn’t even know who called 911, which resulted in a trip to the hospital, where it was impossible to hide his substance abuse. Of course, Marcus later assures me that this was really a blessing in disguise.

  “You might not have found out about it otherwise,” he reminds me after I pour out the whole overdose story. “Or, even worse, he might’ve died.”

  “I know,” I say as the tears finally start to gather. Jacob has gone to bed now, and after keeping up a cool, calm exterior all day, I feel like it’s finally my turn to experience some emotion. “I just don’t understand why…”

  “This is just the way it goes sometimes, Glennis.”

  “But he was doing so well,” I tell him between sobs. I am not ready to go down this road again, feeling so hopeless and discouraged.

  “He was,” Marcus says. “But you have to understand that this happens. The addict is doing just fine, and then something happens that acts like a trigger. Usually it’s something stressful, although I’ve heard all sorts of excuses. I remember this woman who had been clean for nearly a year. She told me how she was out shopping for a pair of shoes for her sister’s wedding when she just happened to find a bag of meth sitting on a bench in the mall. And, well, she was feeling so stressed about not finding the right shoes that she just decided to get high. Does that make any sense to you?”

  “No.” It’s almost funny. “She found a bag of meth?”

  He laughs. “That’s what she said. And, you’re right, it makes absolutely no sense to us. But to an addict, especially early on during rehab, its always a daily thing. They’re constantly asking themselves, will I get high today or will I stay clean? And, believe me, any excuse is a good excuse if they have decided that they’re going to get high. Really, I’ve heard them all.”

  “But what do we do now?”

  “We don’t do anything. It’s up to Jacob.”

  “I know, I know…” Sometimes I get so sick of all this codependent talk. “But he’s staying here in my apartment,” I remind Marcus. “I feel I have some responsibility or authority. Shouldn’t I say anything?”

  “You can remind him to call his mentor. Or he can talk to me if he wants.”

  “What if he doesn’t want to?”

  I hear him sigh and know exactly what he is thinking.

  “I’m sorry, Marcus,” I say. “I already know the answers to these questions, don’t I?”

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t make it any easier, does it?”

  The kindness in his voice only brings more tears to the surface. “Thanks,” I tell him. “I don’t know how I would’ve survived all this without you.”

  Jacob does call his mentor the next day. And he attends an NA meeting that night and three more the following week. But then he blows it again. Of course, he is very contrite and sorry afterward and promises me that it’s the last time he’ll mess up like that. But it’s not. And back and forth he goes until I must finally tell him he has to either stay clean or move out of my apartment, which I’ve already given notice on anyway. This is despite the fact that I have no place to move to. But Jacob seems to flounder like this for about a month until he finally comes to me and tells me that he thinks he needs to go back to Hope’s Wings for inpatient treatment again.

  “This time I want to do it for me,” he tells me. “I think I did it to avoid that whole thing with Dad last time. And even though I appreciated getting clean, I was kind of resentful about a lot of stuff.”

  Well, I honestly don’t care what his reason for succeeding or not succeeding is; I only want him to get whatever kind of help he needs and quickly. Jake calls Marcus that same day and is accepted back into the inpatient program starting in early March. In the meantime, it seems that he is staying clean and working his program. But I can’t be certain. Mostly I am relieved when March 5 rolls around and it’s time to take him back in. He seems quiet and sad as we drive over, but it’s not like the last time, not like he is unhappy to be going into rehab. It’s more as if he regrets blowing it.

  As I get back into my car, I try to assure myself that this is a normal step in Jake’s recovery, that it’s a good thing he wants more help. Even so, I feel anything but hopeful as I drive away And after a few minutes my eyes are so blurry from tears that I am forced to pull over.

  I get out of my car and slam the door. I want to yell at God, to shake my fist at the sky and to blame him for what seems to be this continual and never-ending mess in my life. But suddenly I am aware of the unexpected spring sunshine that’s warming my head. And I see the bright green of fresh grass and notice that tulips and daffodils are blooming and the delicate pink buds on the plum trees are just starting to open. And I realize that no one can be angry with God on a day like this.

  Instead, I begin to walk, and that’s when I notice that I have stopped next to a small neighborhood park. I’ve probably driven past it before, but I honestly don’t remember seeing it. I’m sure that’s because I have always had other things on my mind as I travel back and forth from Hope’s Wings. But the park is old and quaint with metal swings and an ancient-looking merry-go-round. Other than an elderly woman walking a small dog on the other side, the park is deserted. But all the lovely blooming trees and flowers seem to beg to be enjoyed. And so I slowly walk through it, and as I walk, I begin to pray And, once again, I surrender Jacob to God.

  “You’d think I’d know this by now,” I admit. “That you created and designed Jacob. That he’s as much, or probably more, yours than he is mine. And I believe you know what you’re doing in his life.” I stop and take a deep breath. “And so I give him back to you, God. Do as you like with him.”

  I continue to walk until I come to a quiet little neighborhood that borders the other side of the park. The houses are small and old-fashioned, but something about them draws me, and as strange as it seems, I almost feel at home here.

  And then I see it—a For Sale by Owner sign pounded into the dirt in front of a rather forlorn little house that’s painted the color of a dirty old sock. I pause and look at the sad little house and its neglected yard, and I know I must have it.

  Of course, I’ve never purchased a house before and don’t even know if I can afford one now, although I have offered to sign a divorce settlement with Geoffrey that I think, along with my savings, might just cover the price of a modest home. But how does one go about something like this? What are the proper steps? And is this crazy?

  Suddenly I know who to call, and by four o’clock that same afternoon, Sherry is leading me through the vacant house and pointing out all of its weaknesses as well as its strengths. Unfortunately, according to Sherry, the weaknesses seem to outweigh the strengths. Although she does admit that the house has potential.

  “It’s a good neighborhood,” she says.

  “And how about that guesthouse in back?” I remind her. “Wouldn’t that be great for Jacob?”

  “But it’ll be a lot of work,” she tells me as she locks the front door.

  “Work is good,” I say with determination.

  “And it’ll take money to make the repairs.”

  This gives me pause. “Don’t you think I can do a lot of it myself?”

  “Maybe…”

  “Well, I want it,” I finally tell her.

  “Now, Glennis, you need to realize that some people make decisions to buy houses with their heads, and others make decisions with their hearts.”

  I nod. “Then this is definitely a heart decision. But, really, I have a strong feeling that its the right decision. Just call it a God thing.”

  “Well, I can’t deny that it’s a good location, Glennis.” She glances over to the little park. “I can’t believe someone hasn’t snapped it up by now.”

  “Well, let’s not waste another minute.”

  She smiles now. “Okay, let’s go to my office and write up an offer.”

  We meet at her office, and after the paperwork is finished, we go out for coffee to celebrate, although she reminds me this is
premature. Naturally, I have to give her the latest news on Jacob, and she is understandably disappointed. But I take the high road, and, sounding a lot like Marcus, I explain that it’s just part of the recovery process.

  “The good thing is that it was totally his choice to check into treatment this time,” I finally tell her.

  “Well, I hope that it works.” She sighs. “I’m still praying for that boy.”

  “Thanks.” I want to ask how she’s doing. It’s been several months since losing Matthew. But I’m afraid I’ll only make her sad if I bring it up.

  “Mark’s getting excited about graduation,” she tells me.

  “He’s graduating this year?” I shake my head. “How did that happen so soon?”

  “Yes, but now he’s decided to go for his master’s.”

  “You must be so proud of him, Glennis.”

  She smiles. “I am.”

  We chat some more, and it occurs to me how perfectly normal and happy we must appear to a casual observer. Just two middle-aged women meeting for coffee and chatting about their children. Oh, if only they knew. If only they knew…

  Time graciously passes, and its late August now, and my garden looks better than I ever imagined possible. Especially after getting a late start on planting, since the divorce settlement didn’t come until April, and I didn’t actually take possession until early May. By then I knew it was too late to grow anything from seed, and so I got some wonderful seedlings from the little nursery that’s only four blocks away But everything just took off. Even my neighbors are impressed with my green thumb, and I’ve been giving away tomatoes and cucumbers and zucchini by the wheelbarrow load.

  Besides cleaning up the yard and putting in the garden, the first thing I did to my little house was to paint its exterior, transforming it from dirty-sock beige to buttery yellow. If I do say so myself, it was quite an improvement. But that was only the beginning. I’m pretty certain that my hands have gone over every square inch of my little house by now. Well, not the roof; I left that to the professionals. But I have refinished the hardwood floors, repainted the walls and cabinets, and even replaced some of the broken windowpanes. It’s amazing what they can teach you to do at Home Depot these days. I’ve also sewn curtains and decorated it in “shabby chic,” causing some of my friends and neighbors to think I should attempt to make a living doing this sort of thing. And I might just do that.

  Having and fixing up my own little house has probably been the best form of therapy I’ve found so far. And it’s good to have Winnie and Rufus back too. Mrs. Fieldstone insisted on delivering them to me herself so she could have a tour of my new place.

  “It’s perfectly lovely,” she told me, although it was still pretty torn up at the time. “I can imagine a divine garden party in this backyard.”

  Jacob graduated again from Hope’s Wings in early April, and he has been surprisingly helpful in restoring my house. I let him do as he liked with the guesthouse, his quarters for the time being and for as long as he remains clean and sober. I was somewhat surprised when he painted the interior walls an odd shade of aqua blue, but it looked quite nice once his things were in place. So far, Jacob has worked his recovery program and stayed clean. He’s even held the same job since May. He’s also enrolled for classes at the local college, and I am feeling hopeful.

  Do I think we’re out of the woods yet? Not at all. I didn’t get this far in the recovery process for nothing. I know as well as anyone that it’s still a day-by-day thing, and I suppose I won’t rest completely easy until Jacob has been clean for a couple of years or more. Just the same, I sleep much better at nights when I remind myself to put my son back into God’s hands. I’ve come to accept that only God’s hands are big enough to hold something as overwhelming and daunting as a loved one who’s an addict.

  But today is a happy day, because I am finally having that garden party that Mrs. Fieldstone recommended. And besides her, I am inviting Jack and my other friends from the apartments as well as Sherry and some of my new church friends and even Sylvia from the grocery outlet store. And, of course, Marcus will be here too. I’m not sure whether Jacob will make it home on time or not, but I did tell him that even though it’s mostly older people, he’s more than welcome to join us. Even so, I won’t be worried or fretful if he doesn’t show up. I know he’s got friends and things to do too.

  My life’s certainly not perfect by any means. I still have my ups and downs and doubts that come knocking in the middle of the night. In some ways I’m as much in the recovery process as my son—it’s definitely a daily thing for me, too. But I have come to accept something. Or almost. I guess I’d better be careful lest I fall flat on my face tomorrow. But I have decided that God never meant for life to be perfect or easy or even what we might consider normal. I mean, just look around this crazy old world at all the hardships to be found along the way, and you’ll have to agree that this must be true. Bad things happen to everyone. And I believe that God fully intended for us to struggle along, sometimes wading right through the middle of waist-high crud. But even so, he still wants us to trust him; he wants us to hold on to him as we muck our way through these unfortunate life messes. And I believe our reward is to become stronger in the end.

  Not only that, but we get to make some wonderful friends as we journey along—the kind of friends who know how to stick by each other even when life isn’t tidy or neat or easy Those are real friends, and I have learned to appreciate them. Because I don’t believe that God ever meant for us to do this thing called Life alone.

  Study Questions

  The Harmon family seems somewhat blindsided by Jacob’s drug problems. What signs were perhaps missed? Do you think anything would’ve played out differently if they’d been more aware of Jacob’s susceptibility to chemical addiction? If so, what?

  Early in the story Glennis portrays her family as rather “picture perfect.” Do you think she really believed this? Why or why not? Why do we sometimes believe what we want to believe?

  Glennis didn’t seem to know that her marriage was in trouble when she left Geoffrey. When do you think their marital problems began? What could they have done differently?

  Glennis had a classic codependent personality. Why do you think she was like this? What do you see as the negative and/or positive traits of someone who is codependent? Do you see any of these traits in yourself?

  Glennis had difficulty discerning the difference between loving and enabling. How would you distinguish between them? What guidelines do you use to determine this in your own life?

  Sarah had almost completely disengaged herself from her brother and his problems. Do you think this was selfish or self-preserving or both? Explain.

  What factors do you think were most critical to Glennis’s discovery that she was part of the problem? Where did she find her best sources of help? If you were in her situation, where would you go for help?

  Glennis’s marriage was in worse shape than she had originally thought. Do you think she should have done something differently? What would you have done in a similar situation?

  Were you surprised when Sherry’s son Matthew died? Some may view this as a departure from the story line about Glennis and Jacob. In your opinion, what was its role and significance in this story?

  Crystal Lies is as much about codependency as addiction. Did this story change any of your attitudes toward people who become caught in these traps? Do you know anyone who’s dealing with these issues? Do you view addicts and codependents differently now that you’ve read this book? Explain.

  Resources

  BOOKS

  Beyond Codependency: And Getting Better All the Time by Melody Beattie.

  Codependent No More: How to Stop Controlling Others and Start.

  Caring for Yourself by Melody Beattie Cracked: Putting Broken Lives Together Again: A Doctors Story by. Drew Pinsky

  WEB SITES

  Do It Now! Foundation—www.doitnow.org/pages/101.html

  Crystal Me
th—www.crystal-meth.us/

  Crystal Meth Anonymous (CMA)—www.crystalmeth.org/

  About the Author

  Over the years Melody Carlson has worn many hats, from preschool teacher to youth counselor to political activist to senior editor. But most of all, she loves to write! Currently she freelances from her home. In the past nine years, she has published more than 100 books for children, teens, and adults—with sales totaling more than two million and many titles appearing on the ECPA Bestsellers List. Several of her books have been finalists for, and winners of, various writing awards, including the ECPA Gold Medallion Award and the Rita Award. She has two grown sons and lives in Central Oregon with her husband and chocolate Lab retriever. They enjoy skiing, hiking, gardening, camping, and biking in the beautiful Cascade Mountains.

  CRYSTAL LIES

  PUBLISHED BY WATERBROOK PRESS

  12265 Oracle Blvd., Suite 200

  Colorado Springs, Colorado 80921

  A division of Random House, Inc.

  Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Also quoted, The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.

  The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2004 by Melody Carlson

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Carlson, Melody.

  Crystal lies / Melody Carlson.—1st ed.

  p. cm.