by Marion Myles
That was two freakin’ days ago.
As the afternoon wore on, Liam was admitted and moved to a room on the third floor. Actually, it was more of a suite containing a small sitting area with kitchenette and a full bathroom. Cindy took an Uber to the house in the Hills and gathered up things he might need. She drove herself back to the hospital.
Liam was not feeling well. The Narcan had put his body straight into withdrawal, and even with support medication supplied through the IV, his body ached. He had intense nausea and a splitting headache. Rebecca was without sympathy.
Cindy bustled about setting up his room with flowers and photos from home. She spread a blue cashmere blanket over the bed and hung a plush burgundy robe on the bathroom door. All his upscale bathing products and toiletries were neatly arranged on the bathroom shelf. She’d also swung by Whole Foods and stocked the small refrigerator with pressed juices, fruits, cheese, and various deli containers of prepared foods.
Rebecca wanted to scream that Liam wasn’t on some holiday excursion but recovering from an overdose. She held her tongue. The activity calmed Cindy, and she figured that was reason enough to keep her thoughts to herself.
When the police arrived, they took individual statements from each of them. Rebecca told the two men about her part in the events of the morning and answered questions regarding Marisa and Liam’s relationship and what she knew of their drug habits. When she asked, she was told it was too early to tell, but it sounded like there was nothing suspicious or sinister in Marisa’s death…although the drug possession would need to be investigated.
The encounter left her more depressed still. The cops were so matter of fact about what had happened and indicated they saw it all the time. Just another junkie paying the ultimate price.
It so exactly mirrored her own feelings. And she hated it. Hated that she was so jaded and cynical. She wanted to go back to childhood, back to when she still believed in fairy tales and miracles. But then she remembered, thanks to dear old Dad, her childhood hadn’t lasted long. By the time she was ten or eleven years old, she already knew there was no such thing as a happy ending.
When evening arrived, and Liam showed no signs of further complications, Rebecca pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.
“Okay, guys, I’m going to head out.” She walked over to Liam’s bed and laid her hand on his arm. He didn’t look up at her, instead, turned his head to stare at the wall, his soft blonde hair flat and greasy against his skull. “I’m sorry about Marisa.”
When he didn’t respond, she stepped back. Cindy got to her feet and walked out into the hallway with her.
“Thank you for coming,” Cindy said, her eyes filling with tears. “It’s been such a hard day, and everything was…so…awful. I don’t think I’d have made it through without your help.”
“Sure. Of course. Are you going to be okay?”
Cindy sniffled. “Yeah. Jack should be here in a couple of hours. I think Liam’s sister, Siobhan, might be coming too. I don’t know how long he has to stay in the hospital, but I guess we’ll figure all that out.”
“Okay, well, then.” Rebecca opened her arms for a hug and Cindy sank into her. “Don’t be a stranger. And if you ever need anything, call me.”
Cindy sighed heavily. “Thank you. I will. Maybe we could meet for coffee sometime. It’d be nice to hang out without all the drama.”
“I’d like that.”
Downstairs, Rebecca had to wade through a wall of photographers and their cameras to get to her Uber. The news was out, she thought. Marisa’s death and Liam’s overdose would be topping all the celebrity sites, and they were no doubt getting ready to set up camp outside his house once he was released from the hospital.
All she could do was thank God he was no longer her problem.
* * * * *
At the beginning of the following week, Rebecca stood perusing the contents of her fridge and trying to come up with a recipe using the ingredients on hand, which consisted of a half a can of pineapple, one zucchini, a jar of black olives, and leftover oatmeal.
When her phone pinged, and the display showed Jack Miller, she instinctively shoved it away and across the counter. He’d texted a few times, giving updates on Liam she hadn’t asked for and pressing to speak with her.
She didn’t want to talk to him. Her job was done, and she was trying to forget everything that had happened, especially those last few good days when she’d actually thought Liam had a chance to beat the addiction.
Besides, she was busy moving on with her life. She’d found a new, cheaper place and was more or less packed and ready to go. Her resume was in the hands of numerous potential employers, and all she could do was keep her fingers crossed and hope she quickly landed a job.
With the money she’d earned from working for Liam, a substantial portion of her mother’s medical bills had been paid off, which pleased her greatly, but there was still a long way to go plus a rather large student loan. Now all she needed was a job, and she could dig in and work her way back toward the land of solvency.
When a knock sounded on her door, she whirled around. Had Jack actually had the audacity to show up at her house? She marched over and looked through the peephole. Yes. Yes, he had. And not only that, he’d brought a woman with him.
She turned the deadbolt and unlocked the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Rebecca, hi. It’s great to see you.” All smiles, Jack held out his hand, grasping Rebecca’s and shaking enthusiastically. “This is Liam’s sister, Siobhan. We’d like to come in.”
He didn’t actually wait until she’d stepped back but pushed past her. Rebecca was forced to retreat or be trampled.
She swept her arm in the air. “By all means, make yourself at home.”
Siobhan entered with a nervous smile. She was tall and lean like her brother. Her eyes, a soft hazel, were only slightly marred by the dark circles under them. She was much blonder than Liam, her hair the color of winter wheat, but she had the same slightly crooked upper incisor.
“How is Liam?” she asked Siobhan.
“Better every day. They say he’s ready to go home.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m really glad to hear that. As you can see,”—she gestured to the boxes piled against the far wall—“I’m in the middle of packing. I don’t have much to offer you beyond a cup of tea.”
“Oh, no. We’re fine thanks,” Siobhan quickly said. “I wanted to meet you and thank you for saving Liam’s life. Cindy told me about everything you did. Not just on…well, the bad day, but before that. I really appreciate how you helped him.”
“No thanks necessary. And other than getting him to the hospital, I did little else. The month I worked for him was—let’s just say it wasn’t productive. Maybe when you get him into treatment this time, it will finally work. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”
Rebecca smiled at Siobhan, hoping she looked encouraging even though in her heart of hearts she didn’t believe for one hot minute Liam would put in the work necessary to becoming sober. And worse than the waste of it all, or the sadness she could see in his sister’s eyes, was that suddenly Rebecca realized she cared way too much.
She’d purposely stayed away from the news or letting her thoughts stray to Liam and told herself it was because she needed to focus on putting her life back in order. But a sneaky part of her heart must have known the real reason. She needed to disengage her emotions.
Jack cleared his throat. “Well, about that. See, Liam says he’s not going back to rehab. The only thing he would agree to is having you look after him. You know, like you did before.”
Rebecca stared numbly at Jack, unable to come up with a suitable reply to such a crazy request.
“He says you really helped him,” Siobhan added.
The scornful laugh escaped Rebecca before she could block it. “Oh, yeah. I was the Mary Poppins of sober companions. I mean, he not only drank regularly during the month I was there…but came close to overdosin
g once before finally doing a proper job of it and practically killing himself. And let’s not even talk about what happened to Marisa.”
“That was different,” Jack said. “We were trying to get him through the movie. Which you did perfectly.”
Rebecca backed up several paces until she bumped against the fridge. “No. No way. I know exactly what will happen. He’ll say he wants to get sober. Then the guys from the band will start coming around. Next thing we’ll be out on tour. I told you. I won’t do it.”
“No tour.” Jack shook his head. “We already canceled it. Come on. If anyone can help him, it’s you.”
She turned to Siobhan, hoping to find some reason in her eyes. “This is madness. Liam needs proper treatment. I’m only a nurse. I don’t have any specialized training in dealing with addiction. I can treat the symptoms of the drugs and alcohol, and that’s about it.”
“We’ve tried it so many times,” Siobhan said softly. “It never worked before. I think it’s worth trying something different this time, don’t you?”
“I guess,” Rebecca said. “But I’m not it.”
“Please, I feel like everything’s led to this moment.” Siobhan reached out and grabbed Rebecca’s arm. “This is our one real shot to finally get him healthy. Liam’s not in a good place emotionally or mentally. It’s like he’s given up. I’m asking you to save my brother.”
Rebecca closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the fridge. “I can’t save anyone, and he has to want to get better, which it doesn’t sound like he does. Listen to me. Find a good rehab center. I can help with that part if you want. Then get him in there and hope like hell it works.”
“Okay, how about this,” Jack said. “Let’s just say—hypothetically, of course—you were going to help someone like Liam. Someone who refused to go to a treatment center. How would you do it?”
Rebecca rolled her eyes and sighed. “I guess I’d want to take that person somewhere remote where no one else could get to them. That way I could totally control the environment. It wouldn’t be a quick thing, as you know, not just a couple of weeks. I think he, or the person, would need to really sink into it for months and months.”
Jack smiled and clapped his hands together. “We can do that, no problem. Off the top of my head, I can already think of a couple of places. How many months?”
“I don’t know. A whole year would be ideal.”
“Okay,” Jack said. “Maybe I can make that work.”
Siobhan, who had been nodding along to the conversation, smiled in relief. “This is an excellent plan. It will keep him safe from the temptation and give him a chance to heal.”
“Wait. Hold on, guys.” Rebecca raised her hand in front of her like a stop sign. “This was a hypothetical scenario. I’m not agreeing to anything. I can’t just up and disappear off the face of the Earth for a year.”
Both Siobhan and Jack glanced around at the boxes and tidy piles of items waiting to be dealt with.
“Why not?” Siobhan asked.
“Because…I…just can’t,” Rebecca said. “Besides, it would be better to find someone in the addiction recovery field. Someone who actually knows what they’re doing. I’m sure lots of people would be happy to take the job.”
“Name your price,” Jack said, leaning toward her. “How much is it gonna take to get you on board?”
Without thinking, Rebecca blurted out, “A million dollars.”
Jack didn’t so much as hesitate before he once again clapped his hands together. “Done. I’ll find the place. You pack your bags.”
Siobhan threw herself at Rebecca, hugging hard. “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me. I can’t do it for Liam because I have two little kids at home but knowing you’ll be there, taking care of him…well, I can’t tell you how great it feels.”
“No. I was joking,” Rebecca began. “I can’t…” She paused and squirmed free of Siobhan, stepping to the side until she was back in the center of the kitchen and they couldn’t box her in again. “The truth is, I don’t want to take this on. Last month was hard, especially how it ended with Marisa. My mother died seven weeks ago, and everything feels…I don’t know, I guess I’m kind of burnt out. I lost my job when I went to work for Liam, and I’m trying to find another one. Not to mention moving to a smaller and even crappier place than this. I don’t think I have the emotional capacity to take this on.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry about your mother,” Siobhan said, once again rushing toward Rebecca who this time crossed her arms over her chest and turned away to ward off the contact. “But that makes this even more perfect. You and Liam can heal together.”
Rebecca noticed Jack was scrolling through his phone. Probably already hunting up potential retreats to shuttle Liam away to.
“Listen to me. My mom just died. My dad is an alcoholic and drug user, and I’ve hated him for practically my whole life. And right now, I’m so furious with Liam I don’t even want to talk to him let alone have us packed up together in some remote location. You need to find someone else because this girl ain’t going.”
“One million dollars,” Jack said calmly. “It’s life-altering, winning the lottery, kind of money. And if you give me six months, it’s all yours. After that, we can reassess.” He slowly turned around the apartment and shook his head. “God knows you could sure use the cash. No one should live like this.”
When Jack and Siobhan left a few minutes later, Rebecca re-engaged the deadbolt and after crumpling to the floor, cradled her head in her hands. What the hell had just happened? She didn’t want to take care of—slash rehabilitate—Liam. It was a nightmare scenario for her on so many levels. What she had told them was the honest truth. She was emotionally drained and didn’t think she had anything left to give.
But her mind was already whirling away in the background; apparently a million dollars was all it needed to get the logical part of her on board.
Hundreds of details filled her head. She wondered if she could get the deposit back on her new apartment and realized she’d need to find somewhere to store her belongings. Maybe sell her car, too. She’d have to put together a top-notch medical supply kit, and she should really order some more textbooks. With six months away, she’d surely be able to get some studying done.
The thought that she would now be able to consider re-applying to med school elated her.
Straightening up, she took in a couple of deep breaths, slowly exhaling after each one in the hopes of calming her racing heart. Energy coursed through her veins, and she clambered to her feet, eyes already searching for her pen and notepaper. Forget about cooking. She’d order a pizza and get to making lists because, Lord help her, it looked like she was going to rehab Liam whether he wanted to be rehabbed or not.
Part Two
Not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves
Henry David Thoreau
Man cannot remake himself without suffering for he is both the marble and the sculptor
Dr. Alexis Carrol
Chapter Fifteen
Ten days later, Rebecca stepped out of an Escalade onto the pavement beside a Gulfstream plane. This was the area of LAX where the uber-rich and famous boarded their private jets. The driver immediately began unloading her bags and boxes of supplies from the trunk. He took them up the stairway and into the plane, passing everything off to a flight attendant.
The pilot, wearing a blue blazer and combination hat with gold braiding, followed the driver down the stairs and met Rebecca on the ground.
“Good morning. I’m Captain Ron James. I’m happy to welcome you aboard, Ms. Diaz.” He reached out and shook her hand. “Please, go on up and make yourself at home. Holly will see to anything you need. As soon as the second member of our party arrives, we’ll be on our way.”
Inside, the plane was roomier than she’d expected. She counted sixteen plush, oversized seats plus a sitting area with a couch and two chairs. A kitchen was farther back. Across the aisle from t
hat was a table with booth seating. It seemed ludicrous that she and Liam would be the only travelers.
Rebecca absorbed the interior of the plane while the flight attendant stood silently. She wore a navy suit, the pencil skirt fitting her like a glove, and patent leather shoes with long, skinny heels. Her blonde hair was swept back in a French roll. The woman’s jewelry, star earrings, and diamond encrusted star pendant, whispered elegance. She smiled at Rebecca.
“Good morning, Miss Diaz,” she said. “My name is Holly, and I’m here to make sure you have a wonderful experience on your way to Sea-Tac. Can I get you a drink or perhaps a snack?”
“No, I’m fine thanks, but I did want to talk to you about something. The other passenger, Liam, cannot have any alcohol. Do you understand?”
Holly nodded, brilliant blue eyes sober. “Yes. I’ve been appraised of the situation, and we have removed all alcohol from the bar and locked it in a cupboard with the luggage.”
Rebecca let out a breath. “That’s wonderful. Thank you. It will make things easier.” She glanced around the plane again. “Um…where should I sit?”
Holly swung her right arm wide. “Anywhere you wish. And remember, if you need anything, all you have to do is let me know.”
“I’ve never been in a private plane. Is it okay if I look around for a moment?” Rebecca asked.
“Of course.”
Rebecca walked to the back of the plane, slowly taking in all the details. The main seats were a creamy yellow, and when she ran her hand along the head cushions, they felt butter soft. The kitchen area sported granite countertops and all the usual appliances, including a cappuccino machine.
She opened the first door on the right beyond the eating area and found a grand powder room along with a small makeup desk. The door at the very end revealed a bedroom with a king sized bed and en suite bathroom including a shower.
