Crystal Lies - Melody Carlson [69]
After Jacob went to work, I phoned Hope’s Wings, the place Dr. Abrams had recommended, and after a short wait I was connected to a helpful man named Marcus Palmer.
I gave him a brief history of my son, concluding with,“But now he’s ready to get help. He’s agreed to meet with a counselor.”
“That’s great,” he told me. “And you’re lucky because I just had a cancellation this afternoon. Will four fifteen work for both of you?”
“That’s perfect,” I told him. “Jacob gets off work at three.”
I made a special point to stop by the Red Devil a little later that morning so I could tell Jacob the good news. I even wrote down the time and place on a card so he wouldn’t forget. “I’ll pick you up at three,” I told him.
“Thanks, Mom.” He shoved the card into his pocket and frowned. “You need any gas?”
“Sure. Go ahead and put twenty dollars worth in.” I stood and watched as he filled the Range Rover with the kind of gas that would probably make it rattle and ping, and I wondered what I could possibly say to encourage him. “The guy sounded really nice,” I said and handed him the twenty.
Jacob actually smiled, and I felt a rush of relief flow through me. “That’s cool, Mom.” He pulled his ski cap down over his ears. “Hey, do you think you could loan me a few bucks? My lunch break’s coming up, and I didn’t have much breakfast this morning.”
I looked back in my wallet to see a solitary bill, another twenty. “This is all I have,” I told him, holding up my twenty.
“Thanks, Mom.” He smiled as he took the bill. “I’ll pay you back on Friday. I promise.”
Not only did he not pay me back, but he was nowhere to be found when I went back to the Red Devil at three. I drove around town looking for him, but I finally had to call Marcus and cancel a little after four.
“I’m sorry to wait until the last minute,” I told him through my tears of frustration. “I really thought Jacob was going to cooperate this time.”
“Don’t feel bad,” he said. “Stuff like this happens all the time.”
“I know. But he seemed so willing. I gave him a card with the time and everything.”
“Do you think there’s a chance that he still might show?” asked Marcus.
“I seriously doubt it since he doesn’t even have a car right now,” I told him. “But I suppose he might have a friend drop him off. Although that seems pretty unlikely.”
“Well, hey, I’ve got that hour available anyway. Why don’t you come in, just in case? And if Jacob doesn’t show, we can at least discuss some ways for you to cope with your stress in the meantime.”
So I got back into my car and drove to the rehab center. It was located on the outskirts of town and was nothing like what I’d expected. I suppose my image of a rehab center came from a scene in an old movie. For some reason I assumed it would be a large sprawling campus with acres of green lawns and gracefully placed trees, perhaps gated with security guards and tall fences to keep the patients confined. Although I had assured Jacob I didn’t think that was the case.
But when I turned at the Hope’s Wings sign, I was somewhat disappointed to see several rather drab barracks-type buildings compounded next to a large blacktop area. Nothing was fenced or gated. I parked in front of the building that was marked Main Office and went inside to inquire about Marcus Palmer. As I walked past a building marked Rehab Center, I noticed a cluster of people of varying ages. They stood around a doorway smoking and talking. I later learned they were patients and that smoking and eating chocolate were the only vices allowed in this facility. But even the chocolate was rationed. However, the cigarettes were not. I didn’t bother to ask why.
“Marcus is just finishing a session,” said the girl at the reception desk. She looked to be about