The Ring

by Florence Osmund

  Mezzo Recovery House looked exactly like the brochure—a long, narrow driveway leading up to a large, white Victorian-style structure with a wraparound porch. She parked her car and rang the front doorbell. They were expecting her.

  Paige was led into a massive living room, shown to a two-chair seating area near a fireplace, and asked to wait for Natalie. She scanned the room—a scene right out of a Norman Rockwell painting with a piano in the corner, built-in bookshelves on either side of the fireplace, a braided rug in the center, a comfy-looking sofa, and wingback chairs scattered about. She perused the book titles: Pride and Prejudice, The Color Purple, Little Women, Great Expectations. Many more classics, but none of which Natalie would likely ever read.

  A woman in scrubs rolled Natalie into the room in a wheelchair. Despite her mournful expression, she looked relatively good—her skin wasn’t flushed like it was when she was on something, and the drowsiness she so often displayed was absent.

  “You look good, Nat. How do you feel?”

  Natalie crossed her arms across her chest. “How do you think I feel? I feel like shit.”

  “Well, I think—”

  “I just lost my baby, dumb-ass. Oh, right. You do know how that feels.”

  Paige let out a whimper and broke eye contact with her sister while she fought to calm herself down, the impact of Natalie’s words distressful.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Paige asked.

  “No.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need?”

  “You can tell me that you’re going to get me out of this place.”

  “Why? They’re going to help you here.”

  “Maybe I don’t want help now.”

  “But you need help, Nat. You can’t deal with your addictions alone. No one can.”

  “I was doing fine until you interfered.”

  Her sudden calmness frightened Paige.

  “I don’t know what else to say.”

  “I never should have come up here,” Natalie continued. “I was fine with my old friends, my life. It was great!”

  “It wasn’t great, and you know it.”

  “Don’t tell me what I do and don’t know. You can’t get inside my head. And if you could, trust me, you’d be the first! And you have no right to judge me.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “I know what you’re trying to do. I’ve been through this before. Now that I’m sober, let’s find a nice place for me to live, somewhere everyone is going through the same thing, just like me. A place to go before I enter the real world. No bars on the windows, but there will be rules. Lots of fucking rules. And weekly urine tests. Let’s not forget those. Well, Paige, my dear big sister, I’m tired of peeing in a cup in front of someone. Give me my old life back.”

  “Do you know what drugs and alcohol do to your brain, Nat?”

  “Oh, please do tell me about it.”

  “They affect how you think, what motivates you, your ability to make sound decisions.”

  “You’re pathetic.”

  “Your values have been compromised, but you don’t know that because that part of your brain has been damaged, hijacked in a sense.”

  “You don’t know anything about it, so stop with the bullshit. I want out, and I want out now. I can walk right out of here anytime I want, you know. And then I’ll go back to Mom’s, and you can’t stop me.”

  As soon as she felt marginally composed, Paige responded with her previously rehearsed speech. “You can’t go back to Mom’s. As executor of her estate, I have responsibility to protect the property, and it’s not safe with you in it.”

  “I know my rights, you idiot, and I know she left half of everything to me, including the house.”

  “That’s not quite correct—you get forty percent, I get forty percent, and Tamir, Emma, Jessivel, and Wanda each get five percent. And as executor, I have one year to distribute the assets to everyone.”

  “Wanda? Why her? And who the hell is Emma?”

  “Our half-siblings.”

  “Wanda’s our cousin, stupid.”

  “Correction. She’s our half-sister.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Okay.”

  “And Emma?”

  “Another half-sister.”

  “This is just bullshit. I’ll take it to court.”

  “Good luck with that. Look, Natalie, I’d do anything for you—anything that would help you deal with your addictions and become an independently functioning human being. Anything. But—”

  “You’re all talk. You always were.”

  “But don’t ask me to do something that will enable you to continue down this destructive path you’re on. I won’t do it. You’re in an excellent facility here, and you’re well on your way to recovery. Don’t blow it now.”

  “You don’t know anything. You don’t know me. Send Jessivel here the next time. She gets me. If I’m still here, that is.”

  Paige remained seated well after Natalie had been wheeled away. How do you help someone who doesn’t want to be helped? Is it possible to make someone want to help themself?

  She considered the lost baby—Natalie had seemed somewhat receptive to help when the baby was alive inside her. It saddened her to realize that now that it was just her, she didn’t seem as receptive.

  Chapter 52

  “So, Paige’s family is more screwed up than mine,” Jessivel mumbled as she got undressed for bed, still shocked by Paige’s story about her birth mother.

  Her mind drifted to something Kayla had asked her the day before.

  “When can we get normal, Mom?”

  “Pray tell, what do you mean by normal?”

  “You know. Like everyone else.”

  “No one is exactly ‘like everyone else.’”

  “Well, we’re not like anyone else. But there are lots of kids in my class who are alike.”

  “How so?”

  “They have two parents, live in a nice house with their brothers and sisters, go on vacation. And have a dog...you know.”

  “And that’s your idea of normal?”

  “Yep.”

  “I suppose they’ve all been to Disney World too.”

  Kayla shrugged.

  “Is that what you’d want for our family? All those things?”

  “Not the Disney World part. I’d rather go to the Grand Canyon…in one of those big motor homes. Erik and his family do that. Pretty awesome.”

  “Well, good for Erik and his family. Save up your money.”

  “Maybe we could borrow their motor home.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “I’ll ask him.”

  “Don’t bother. We couldn’t even afford the gas.”

  That conversation got Jessivel to thinking about their future—something she had not given much attention to before. It would be nice to have a husband and go on vacations as a family. Have someone to talk to about their day. Someone to build a future with, create memories.

  She answered her ringing phone. It was Paige.

  “Olivia told me you went to go see Natalie this afternoon,” Jessivel said to her. “How is she doing?”

  “Actually, that’s why I called. She lost the baby.”

  “Oh, my God, no. I know how much she looked forward to…”

  “I feel terrible for her,” Paige said.

  “Me too.”

  “And that’s the reason I called. Well, sort of. I went there, but she didn’t want to see me. She would have rather seen you.”

  “Me?”

  “She trusts you. Me, not so much.”

  “Well…I’m happy to go see her, if you think that will be helpful. I forget the town she’s in.”

  “Dixon.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Almost a hundred miles due west of here.”

  “A hundred miles? Is that still on this side of the Mississippi?” she asked with a laugh.

  “Yes, not by
much though. She wants out, Jess, but I think her being there at least thirty days, and most likely a lot longer, will do her a world of good. She’s already past the withdrawal stage, so she has a good start. You could be what she needs.”

  “Why? You think I could convince her to stay?”

  “She won’t listen to me.”

  “A hundred miles is a long drive. I don’t know if my car is that dependable.”

  “What if I drove you? You and Kayla. While you meet with Natalie, Kayla and I could do something else, get to know each other a little better. I am her aunt, after all.”

  “When would you want to do this?” Jessivel asked.

  “Let me check with her primary counselor—I have a few other questions for her anyway—and I’ll see what she thinks. I’ll let you know.”

  Feeling in a familial frame of mind, Jessivel had the sudden urge to call her mom, just to chat.

  Jessivel sat in the front passenger seat, Kayla in the back, while Paige drove the two hours to Dixon. To keep her occupied on the drive, Paige lent Kayla her Kindle with a few books on it she thought Kayla might like.

  The two women talked about Natalie during the majority of the trip.

  “I’ve taken hydrocodone before,” Paige explained, “once for an extended period after I had surgery for a herniated disk, but I never got addicted. For some reason, it’s been different for Natalie. Honestly, I don’t understand how two people raised under the same roof can be so different.”

  From what Jessivel understood about addictions, they had little to do with how one was raised, but she wasn’t about to say this to Paige. “When did you first realize she had a problem?” she asked.

  “Not for a long time—she was good at masking the telltale signs. I think the first thing we noticed was a change in her appearance. She’d lost weight, stopped taking care of herself, poor hygiene. That had to have been two or even three years after the accident.”

  “Was she working?”

  “After high school, she attended community college part-time and worked part-time in a restaurant. Right about the same time Mom noticed her weight loss, she dropped out of school and lost her job. She said she quit, but I suspect she was fired.”

  “What was she studying?”

  “She wanted to be a nurse.”

  “What a shame. Has she ever talked about going back to school?”

  “Plenty of times. That’s one of her ploys to get Mom to give her money—she says she needs it to go back to school.”

  “But she never did?”

  “Of course not. She used the money for drugs and alcohol. Mom and I had differing opinions on how to best help her. Mom gave her whatever she asked for.”

  “One thing I learned from one of my friends back in high school who had an alcoholic mother is that alcohol was bigger than her and even bigger than her love for her family.”

  “I believe that. I’m hoping Natalie is now acknowledging her addictions and she is on a road to recovery. I really want her to stay where she is. They can help her there.”

  “What does she say about her addictions?” Jessivel asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, is she open about it? Should I be open about it when I talk to her?”

  “In the past, talking to her about the problem was futile. She was in denial and had a history of lying about everything, to the point that I think she believed the lies herself. But now, I think and her counselor thinks we need to be open about it even if she isn’t.”

  “I’m not sure what to expect, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Well, we’re here,” Paige said. She turned to Jessivel. “Don’t worry about Kayla and me. We’ll find things to do. Call me when you’re through.”

  Jessivel gave Kayla the standard be-a-good-girl lecture and exited the car.

  “Good luck,” Paige told her.

  Jessivel entered the rehab facility unaware of how she would find Natalie and scared she wouldn’t know how to handle the situation regardless of which way it went. If Paige, in all her wisdom, couldn’t deal with her, how could she be expected to? But Paige apparently had faith in Jessivel, and for that reason, she would give it her best shot.

  She checked in at the reception desk and was shown to a small conference room. Minutes later, Natalie arrived, looking like she’d just been through a hell of a battle.

  “How are you, Natalie?” she asked.

  Natalie shrugged as she swiped a long strand of hair from her face.

  “I’m so sorry you lost your baby. I can’t imagine how you must feel.”

  Natalie glanced up at her, her eyes bloodshot and vacant, not seeming to register what was being said to her.

  “I wish I could help you.”

  Natalie tipped her head back, looked heavenward, and then let it flop forward. “I never set out to be this way, Jess.”

  “I know you didn’t.”

  “I’ve never been comfortable with who I am,” she said, her words deliberate and monotone. “Do you know how that makes you feel?”

  Natalie’s pupils were enlarged. Jessivel suspected she was highly medicated.

  Jessivel shook her head.

  “I’ll never have what Paige has.”

  “Do you want what she has?”

  “I don’t know. I just know I don’t want what I have, and I’m ashamed of myself.”

  “Why?”

  “Look at me…I’m a mess.”

  “What would make you feel comfortable with who you are?”

  “Being high helps.”

  Jessivel chuckled. “What I meant was—”

  Natalie gave her a conciliatory smile. “I know what you meant.” She glanced around the room, apparently momentarily distracted. “I’ve felt like an outsider my whole life. Even in my own family. It’s like I’m two people—the good one and the bad one. The bad one always wins.”

  “You’re not a bad person, Natalie. You have a chronic disease, and it needs to be treated. It can be treated. You know that, right?”

  “That’s what they tell me.” She slid down in her chair, looked down for a brief moment, and then wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Nothing made me feel good as a kid. Then I discovered booze. That made me feel good. You call it a disease, but I’m not so sure. I think a lot of it had to do with Paige.”

  “How do you mean?” she asked.

  “She always had more friends, better grades, ambition, things like that. She was the kid in school who wanted to sit in the front row. I was the kid who wanted to hide in the back. It felt like I was in her shadow most of the time, the problem child. More people referred to me as Paige’s little sister than by my name. It was the ‘little’ part that bothered me most. There’s nothing good about little.”

  “Did your parents compare you to Paige when you were growing up?”

  Natalie considered the question for a moment. “No. They never did.”

  “So…”

  “I did. All the time.” She paused. “Still do.”

  Natalie shared with her several childhood stories to corroborate her assertion about Paige, stories with circumstances that Jessivel understood could have had a negative impact on her.

  “But now, Natalie, I think you’re in a good place here.”

  “I don’t feel good being here.”

  “But it’s safe here, and somewhere you can get the help you need.”

  “Some of the people here are weird.”

  “They’re not only going to treat your addictions here, they’re going to help you with any other issues you have, underlying problems that may have contributed to your medical issues.”

  “And the bed isn’t very comfortable.”

  “You won’t have to deal with Paige.”

  Natalie’s face lit up.

  “Can I tell you something, Jess?”

  “Sure.”

  “I think of you as more of a sister than I do Paige. Thank you for coming to see me.”

  “Yo
u’re welcome.”

  “Thank you for listening.”

  “Any time.”

  “And not judging.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m tired. I think I want to lie down.”

  When a nurse came for Natalie, Jessivel texted Paige to let her know she had finished her visit. She waited outside to be picked up.

  “How did it go?” Paige asked as soon as she entered the car.

  “Okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  Jessivel didn’t know how much of their conversation she should share, especially in front of Kayla.

  “Kayla, sweetie, can you use the headphones while we talk?”

  “How come I never get to hear the good stuff?”

  “You’re not old enough.”

  “I’ll never be old enough,” she mumbled as she put on the headphones.

  “How did she seem to you?” Paige asked.

  “Tired. Alone. Sad. And highly medicated, it looked like to me.”

  “Her counselor told me she was on two medications to help with cramps and bleeding following the miscarriage, and they were considering putting her on an antidepressant as well. What did you talk about…if you don’t mind my asking.”

  Jessivel hesitated before responding. “You, mostly.”

  “Me? Why me?”

  Jessivel shared some of what Natalie had said she experienced growing up behind Paige, sugarcoating it somewhat.

  “But I never treated her badly. No one did.”

  “You didn’t have to—she was capable of beating herself up without any help from others.”

  “Does she still feel that way?”

  “I don’t think that’s something that ever goes away, and maybe that’s why she resents you.”

  “She has no reason to resent me. I’ve done nothing but…” Paige’s voice trailed off, causing Jessivel to wonder what she was thinking or maybe recalling.

  “I don’t know much—I’m an only child with an only child—but I’m thinking that when you’re in her position, when you feel like you’re worthless and your self-esteem is in the toilet, dealing with those who have it all isn’t easy. And when it’s your sister, well, that just adds more insult to it.”