Crystal Lies - Melody Carlson [58]
“That’s it?” I said in a meek voice. “That’s all you can offer?”
“Glennis, that’s all there is. But you need to remember what I told you the other day. Your main job is to take care of yourself right now. It’s a job you’ve neglected for too long.”
“I know…” I pressed my closed fist against my forehead, angry at myself for wasting my time by calling her in the first place. Obviously she didn’t understand what this was like for me. She had probably never been in this position herself. Of course, I realized, her children were probably perfect. Well, why wouldn’t they be?
“I’ll see you in a couple of weeks then?” she asked in an obvious hint that it was time to end this conversation.
“Right.”
“And you’re okay?”
“I’m great.”
“Now, Glennis—”
“I’m sorry for bothering you, Dr. Abrams,” I said in a tightly controlled voice. “I’ll see if Jacob is interested in visiting this rehab center.”
“You do have some clout, you know,” she said as if suddenly inspired.
“And that would be?”
“You could tell him that he can’t continue living with you unless he agrees to seek treatment.”
Great, I was thinking. Not only does my son have a very serious drug problem, but my therapist is counseling me to throw him out on the streets. “I…I can’t do that.”
“Then maybe you are part of the problem.”
“What?”
“You’re enabling him, Glennis. Remember, we’ve talked about that. When you roll over and allow people to keep making bad choices, walking all over you, you enable them to continue in their problems. By letting Jacob live with you when he obviously needs professional help, you’re making it easy for him to keep using.”
“So it is my fault.” As I eyed the sack on the counter, I felt a mother lode of guilt burying me.
“If you allow him to keep living with you, Glennis, when you know he needs help…then, yes, you are a part of the problem.”
“But it’s cold outside. Where will he go? What will he eat?”
“If he gets cold enough or hungry enough, he might decide he’d like things to change.” Her voice softened now “Or he may want to consider rehab when he sees that you are firmly drawing the line.”
“Do you think?”
“Draw your boundaries, Glennis. See what happens.” I sighed. “Okay, I think maybe you could be right.”
“Good. Let me know how it goes.”
“Thanks, Dr. Abrams.”
“No problem. And next time you’re in, we’ll discuss what’s a real emergency and what’s not.”
“Right.” I hung up and wondered if Dr. Abrams really understood what constituted an emergency for me. Oh sure, my problems might seem small compared to someone who’s standing on the ledge of a high-rise building with emergency crews down below But that wasn’t so unlike how I felt at this moment, like I was teetering on the edge of a cliff with no emergency crews anywhere in sight and nothing but a dark abyss below, and it seemed the only way out was down.
I had done such an excellent job of keeping my problems to myself the past couple of years. Other than Sherry and my immediate family, everyone else was kept safely at arm’s length. I had developed a series of pat answers that seemed to work.
“How are you doing?” someone would ask.
“Just great,” I would say with a plastic smile.
“How are the kids?”
“Sarah loves college, and Jacob has become quite the musician.” More smile. Then I would deflect the attention from my family by asking how they were doing. It worked so well. Admittedly, some of this facade was designed to protect Geoffrey’s image. He’d made it clear to me early on that, as city attorney, he didn’t want his family’s dirty laundry aired publicly. But I must confess these answers became comfortable for me as well. I had enough trouble with guilt and grief without adding anyone’s judgments or pity to my pile. Even my mother had remained somewhat in the dark about what was going on in our family since I only gave her bits and pieces, always with a very optimistic spin. I was a bit worried that Sarah might’ve told her grandmother the whole story during one of her visits, but then I realized that Sarah, as much as Geoffrey, liked keeping up appearances. She never wanted