Finally, a neighbor at the end of the block called out that he saw a cat in the bushes, and Jack ran there to check. He got down on his knees and flashed his light under the thick bushes, and there was Spence, huddled and shaking.
Jack heaved a sigh of relief. “Come on, Spence. It’s okay. I’ll take you home,” he said softly to the cat. Jack reached out and pulled the cat to him, picking him up and holding him tight. Everyone who’d been searching was circled around him, cheering that he’d found Spence.
Jack thanked his neighbors and hurried home. When he got there, he placed the scared cat in the kitchen and fed him. Then he walked on tired legs to the living room and looked down at Libbie. She was sound asleep, completely oblivious to the drama that had taken place.
He knew that he could no longer ignore Libbie’s condition. By leaving the door open, she’d put herself in danger. What if a stranger had come inside? Or she’d stumbled out into the night and become lost? As painful as it was to do, it was time he admitted she had a problem. He had to do something to help her.
Jack entered Mr. Wilkens’s office tentatively. He’d taken an hour off work to come see Libbie’s dad and ask for help. He hated asking, but he’d decided that if anyone knew what to do in this situation, it would be him.
“Hello, Jack,” Mr. Wilkens said, standing up from behind his heavy mahogany desk to greet him. “Isn’t this a surprise.”
Jack walked over to the desk and sat in the chair that Mr. Wilkens had motioned to.
“What can I do for you, son? You look tired. You must be working too hard.”
Jack stared at Mr. Wilkens as he tried to find his voice. Jack hadn’t seen him in a while, and he noticed that he looked older and thinner. He, too, looked tired.
“Libbie isn’t doing very well,” Jack began, and he saw a worried crease form between Mr. Wilkens’s brows. “She’s been drinking again and taking pills. I don’t know what to do about it anymore. I thought you could help me.”
Mr. Wilkens ran a hand across the back of his neck and his face dropped, as if the smile he’d been wearing when he’d greeted Jack was all that was holding it up. He sighed. “I told you before, son. Libbie is sensitive. She’s like a delicate flower and needs extra care. You have to take care of her. She’s your responsibility.”
Jack stood and circled the chair, coming to face him again. “I have been taking care of her,” he insisted. “But I can’t be there twenty-four hours a day. I have to work. I’ve done everything I can to keep her from buying alcohol, but she still manages to get it.”
“Then you have to try harder. You have to spend more time with her.”
Jack slammed his hand down on the back of the chair. “How? How can I do that when we have that damned house to pay for and all the other bills? I’m working day and night just to keep us afloat. I can’t be with Libbie all the time.”
Mr. Wilkens stood and walked around the desk to face Jack. “What do you expect me to do? I already have my hands full between running my businesses and Abbie being sick so often. Even with Gwen’s help, I’m burning the candle at both ends. I can’t take on your problems, too.”
The two men stared at each other, each with frustration creasing his face. Jack had never heard Mr. Wilkens yell like that before—he was usually so calm and even-tempered.
Jack dropped into the chair, defeated. “I don’t know what to do. I love Libbie so much. But she needs help. I’m afraid for her.”
Mr. Wilkens pulled a chair up next to Jack’s and sat, placing his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, son. I’m just so frustrated myself. I had no idea Libbie was doing so badly. I’ve been consumed with her mother’s problems.”
Jack stood. “I’m sorry I bothered you. I just thought that you might know what could be done to help Libbie. I’m at my wits’ end.” He turned and walked to the door.
“Jack.”
Jack turned and looked at Mr. Wilkens, watching as the older man took a deep breath.
“There is a place where Libbie could go. It’s a nice place, where doctors would treat her problem and help her to get better.”
Jack stepped closer. “What kind of place?”
“A hospital of sorts, with a peaceful country setting on a lake. It’s more like a retreat, where she can relax and get healthy again. Doctors will set up a treatment plan for her, and she’ll no longer have access to alcohol.”
“How long would she have to be there?”
“Probably two weeks. Maybe longer. It will be up to the doctor to decide.”
Jack stood quietly a moment, thinking about his options. He couldn’t help Libbie get better on his own. But sending her somewhere for a long period of time scared him, too.
“I can see you’re hesitant, son,” Mr. Wilkens said. “I understand. But it is a good place for her to get well. I promise you. I’d never send Libbie anywhere I didn’t trust. You know that.”
Jack looked up at him. He knew it was true—Mr. Wilkens loved his daughter dearly and wouldn’t suggest anything if he thought it wasn’t a good idea. “Has Mrs. Wilkens ever gone there?” he asked.
Mr. Wilkens nodded. “Yes, she has. But she was much older than Libbie when she went and more set in her ways. Libbie is young. Maybe if we catch her problem now, she can beat it and won’t have to fight this the rest of her life.”
Jack nodded. “Okay. How do I set this up?”
“I’ll take care of the arrangements,” Mr. Wilkens said. “And of course, I’ll pay for it. I’ll let you know as soon as everything is set up.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wilkens.”
“No thanks necessary, son. We’re family. Family helps each other. We’re going to get our Libbie well again, okay?” He looked optimistic.
“Yes, sir,” Jack said, before leaving the room and walking out into the crisp October day. We’re going to get our Libbie well again. He prayed that Mr. Wilkens was right.
On Friday, Jack took half a day off work and headed home. He hadn’t told Libbie that he and her father were going to take her for help with her drinking. He figured if he told her only minutes before they had to leave, there would be less of a struggle. When he arrived home, Libbie, not surprisingly, was already halfway through a bottle of wine.
Libbie looked up at Jack in surprise when he walked through the front door. “What are you doing home so early?” she asked, slurring her words.
Jack walked over to where she sat on the sofa. She had the television on and Spence was snuggled up on the blanket in her lap. Jack kneeled down in front of Libbie and took her hands in his. “Libs, I came home early so your father and I could take you to a retreat to get well. You can’t keep going on like this, sweetie. I’m afraid I’ll lose you if we don’t do something to help you feel better.”
Libbie’s eyes grew wide. “Go away? No. I’m not going anywhere. You can’t make me go.”
“You’re not well, Libbie. You’ve lost so much weight, you’re not eating enough, and your drinking is out of control. You need help. And your father has assured me that you’ll be going to a wonderful place that will help you get well again. Please, Libs. Please do this. For me. For us.”
Libbie pulled away from him so violently, Spence flew out of her lap and ran out of the room. Libbie stood and backed up several steps from Jack. “I’m not sick. I don’t need help. You’re just trying to get rid of me. You think I’m crazy and you want to lock me away. I won’t go. I won’t!” She ran into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her.
Jack’s heart broke. She’d looked like a wild animal caught in a trap. He went to the bedroom door and walked inside. Libbie was lying on the bed, her face in her pillow, sobbing. Jack sat on the edge of the bed and gently rubbed her back. “Please, Libbie. I’m not trying to get rid of you. I want you to feel well so we can be happy again. I miss you. When you drink and take pills, you’re no longer yourself. I love you, Libs. I only want to help you.”
Libbie turned, tears streaking her cheeks. “I’ll quit drinking, Ja
ck. I promise. I’ll do it right here. I can stop anytime I want. I don’t need to leave you to do it. Please, please don’t send me away.” Her voice was small and pitiful, and Jack thought he was going to break down and give in at any moment. But he had to be strong. He wanted his Libbie back, and it wasn’t going to happen if she didn’t get help.
Jack pulled Libbie into his arms and held her tightly. “I don’t want you to go, either, sweetie, but you have to. I promise, you’ll feel so much better if you do. Please do this. If you keep drinking and taking pills, I’m afraid I’ll lose you. I can’t live without you, Libs. Please. Let me take you to get help.”
Jack held her in his arms for a while before Libbie finally agreed to go. After packing a small bag, she calmly walked outside with Jack to where her father’s car was waiting. Jack sat beside her on the ride there, holding her hand and reassuring her that everything would be okay.
But when he had to tear himself away from her as she clung to him at the door, he felt like he had betrayed her. They wouldn’t let him stay with her while she was checked in or settled into a room. And he was told he couldn’t visit her while she was there. His heart broke as he forced himself to walk away with Mr. Wilkens, the sound of Libbie’s sobs following him down the sidewalk.
Once Jack was home, he got into his pick-up and headed straight for the little bar on the edge of town where he knew Larry spent a lot of his free time. He walked in, sat down on a stool beside Larry, and ordered a beer.
Larry, who was drinking whiskey, waited until Jack had drunk down half his beer before speaking. “You did the right thing. She’s going to be fine.”
Jack nodded, but he still felt his heart being ripped apart at the thought of Libbie crying and calling for him to come back.
“I want everything to be like it was before,” Jack said, feeling like he’d lived a hundred years already.
Larry shook his head. “Sorry, pal. Nothing is ever going to be the same again. You just have to hope for better days to come.”
As pessimistic as that sounded, Jack understood it was true. Their life together would never be the way it was the first time they’d kissed or the day they were married. He still loved her as fiercely now as he did then, but those days were gone. He just had to make the best of the times to come.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Libbie got out on a Sunday afternoon two weeks after Jack had dropped her off at the center. When she saw him walking up the sidewalk, she couldn’t stop herself from running to him and throwing herself into his arms. Tears ran down her cheeks as she held him tightly, not wanting to let him go for fear of his leaving again.
Before leaving the center, Jack and Libbie met with the doctor to discuss her treatment plan. Dr. Lingby explained to Jack what medications Libbie was taking and the doses, and that she wasn’t to take more than prescribed or touch alcohol. He gave them a sheet with the medications and doses written out. Libbie watched as a frown creased Jack’s face, but he only nodded. She feared he was upset at the thought of having a wife who was dependent on so much medication just to act “normal,” but he didn’t let on that it bothered him. When they left, he carried her bag with one hand and slipped his other around her waist as he walked her out to the truck.
They made small talk all the way home, as if they were strangers sharing a ride. Libbie chose her words carefully. She was fearful that one wrong word would send her back into the care center. Not that it had been a bad place—the doctors and nurses had treated her kindly—but she never wanted to be locked away like that again. The first week had been hell as she “dried out” from alcohol and Valium. She’d trembled, had hot and cold sweats, and vomited her way through that week. But as the poison left her system, she’d felt better through the second week. She had long sessions with the psychiatrist about the triggers that caused her to drink and take pills, and group sessions with other patients discussing their experiences. Libbie hadn’t liked any of it, had only participated so she would be able to go home. Now, armed with a strong antidepressant, sleeping pills, and Valium for anxiety, and the knowledge of her triggers for alcohol and pill abuse, she was told she could resume normal life.
The problem was, Libbie no longer knew what normal was.
One thing she knew for certain—the pills dulled her senses and made her feel sleepy most of the time, and she hated feeling that way.
Winter settled in and Libbie watched as the trees shed their leaves and snow covered the lawns. She rarely saw the neighbors anymore, just a wave here or a hello there. Her father stopped by occasionally to visit with her, but he was all she saw of her family. He said her mother was having a rough time that winter and Gwen was too busy with her girls and helping with Abigail to do much else. Larry stopped by some evenings when Jack was working, and Libbie knew that he was checking up on her for Jack. She believed it was the same when Bev would stop by unannounced in the afternoon to drop off chocolate chip cookies or a loaf of banana bread. They all acted like it was normal to stop by, but Libbie knew otherwise. Jack was afraid she’d relapse, so he sent people to check on her.
Jack no longer trusted her to be alone.
Libbie didn’t trust herself, either.
She spent her days cleaning the house, cooking, baking, and doing laundry. She went to the grocery store, tried not to glance longingly at the liquor store when she passed it, and filled her prescriptions regularly at the drugstore. Every other night Jack was home for dinner, and the other nights and Saturdays he worked on cars at his uncle’s garage. Sundays they spent together, either going to the farm for dinner, taking in a movie, or going out for a burger. Their life was in perfect order so that nothing would upset the balance that Libbie needed to stay well.
Libbie felt that her life had become an endless stream of nothingness.
Christmas was a quiet event that year. They had dinner with her parents on Christmas Eve. Her mother looked pale and drawn, despite having spent the day before at the beauty parlor. Her father also looked tired. Gwen had gained more weight that year, which made her even crabbier, and Walter was his usual bragging self. The girls were growing, now ages six and three, but Libbie took little interest in them. Lynn whined a lot, and Leslie cried when she didn’t get her way. It was all too much for Libbie’s nerves, so they left early.
Christmas Day at the farm was much more relaxing. Jan was home again that year for winter break, but this time she’d brought home her new boyfriend, Evan Goddard. He was a tall, slender man with blond hair, blue eyes, and a polite personality. He was a junior in college, like Jan was, but he was a business major. Libbie liked him immediately and noticed the way his eyes shined every time he looked at Jan. She remembered when Jack’s eyes used to light up when he looked her way, but she hadn’t seen them do that in a long time. Jack just looked tired now—whether from overworking or worrying about her, she didn’t know.
On New Year’s Eve, they watched Dick Clark ring in 1974 with the lighted ball dropping in Times Square. When they finally went to bed that night, Jack hugged Libbie and curled his body around hers. She tensed—they hadn’t made love since she’d come home from the Willow Lake Center, and she thought Jack no longer desired her. Even though he always kissed her good-bye in the morning and hello when he came home, even though he cuddled with her at night, he’d never made a move to touch her in any other way. But tonight, he held her so close that she felt his heart beating against her back.
Jack brushed her hair from her neck and kissed her there, causing delightful shivers to run down her spine. “Don’t worry, Libs,” he whispered near her ear. “I’d never make you do anything you’re not ready to do. I’ve just missed you so much.”
Libbie turned in his arms and looked up into his eyes. Even in the dark room, she saw how much he loved her. She ran her hand through his thick hair and down to his chest. His breathing quickened at her touch. “I’m sorry, Jack. These pills make me feel so dull and empty inside. I don’t think about anything else but getting through each day.�
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Jack kissed her softly on the lips. “It’s okay, sweetie. We have time. We have our whole lives to be together. I love you so much. I’m happy just being close to you.”
Libbie sighed and snuggled up to Jack. She knew she was lucky to have him, knew that if it wasn’t for him, she’d probably be dead by now. She wanted more than anything to feel like she had when they first met—before the pills and the alcohol and all the stress. As she lay in his arms and listened to his steady breathing as he slept, she prayed that she’d always have Jack in her life. He was her lifeline and without him she’d be lost completely.
The week after New Year’s, Libbie was startled by a knock at the front door in the early afternoon. She’d been making a batch of oatmeal cookies. She knew it wasn’t Bev because they’d talked on the phone earlier, and Larry never came during the day. When she went to answer it, there stood June and Natalie, carrying a plate of muffins and smiling brightly.
“We just couldn’t stand it any longer,” Natalie said as they closed the door against the cold behind them. “It’s been too long since we’ve seen you, Libbie. I hope you don’t mind us barging in.”
“We have blueberry muffins,” June said, lifting the plate. “Would you like one?”
Libbie smiled for what felt like the first time in ages. She had missed her friends. “That sounds wonderful,” she said. “I was just baking cookies. Why don’t you come into the kitchen and we can visit while I finish.”
They went inside the cozy kitchen, and the women sat at the table and told Libbie all the neighborhood gossip while she finished getting her cookies in the oven.
“We missed you at the New Year’s party,” Natalie said, accepting a bottle of Coke from Libbie and picking at a muffin. “You should have been there. The Hendersons both got drunk and had a whale of a fight.”
Finding Libbie Page 24
