Crystal Lies - Melody Carlson [97]
“Glennis.” His voice softened. “I…uh…I don’t usually tell people my own story, but I think I’d like to tell you.”
“You have a story?” Suddenly I wondered if he had been an addict himself. I remembered my first impression of him, with his long ponytail and tie-dyed shirts, and how I’d assumed he was an old hippie. Maybe I’d been right.
“Everyone has a story,” he continued. “Mine is about Hope’s Wings and how I became a rehab counselor.” He looked intently into my eyes. “I’ll tell you if you’re interested.”
“Of course I’m interested.” I leaned forward to listen.
“Well, in some ways my story’s not unlike yours. I was married too, I thought happily, although I realize now that I wasn’t being a very good or attentive husband back then. I worked long hours and put all my best energy into my growing psychiatric practice. My wife and I had only one child, a daughter. She would’ve been twenty-nine now.”
I swallowed hard when he said “would’ve.”
“You’re probably guessing right. Yes, she got involved in drugs. And just as the shoemaker’s children go without shoes, I, the trained psychiatrist, was oblivious to my child’s cries for help. Looking back, I can see that all the signs were there. But at the time I was either in denial, or I simply failed to notice. Or maybe both. I’ve heard you talk about your husband’s attitude toward Jacob’s problem, and in some ways I have to admit that I wasn’t much different. I think I actually believed that Hope was simply going through a rebellious stage and she’d soon outgrow it and move on. I knew she was a very bright girl, and I guess I really believed she’d figure out that drugs weren’t the answer and get on with her life.” He set his spoon in the empty cup.
“But she didn’t?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t even know that she was hooked on crystal meth. To be honest, I really didn’t know much about that specific drug or its addictive properties, which aren’t much different than cocaine’s. I’d been out of med school for nearly fifteen years by then, and I rarely treated patients with chemical dependencies. Plus, this was about twelve years ago, and I was convinced that the drug generation was over and done with. Karen, my wife, felt differently, and she kept nagging me to do something about Hope. As if she thought I could fix things.”
“I used to do the same thing with Geoffrey.”
He nodded. “Finally, when it became clear that Hope had a very serious problem, I jumped in. She was only seventeen and still in high school, and I thought the answer was for me to play police dad. I started enforcing tight curfews and demanded to know where she was and whom she was with. I even followed her sometimes. In many ways I turned into the classic codependent. Not unlike you. And my daughter, not unlike Jacob, could play me like a fiddle. But what I didn’t fully realize was that the drug had gotten a real hold on her, and, naturally, she became very adept at hiding this from me. I even thought that she’d kicked the habit and gotten clean at the end of her junior year. And maybe she had. I guess we’ll never know for sure…but late in August, just before her senior year, she died of an overdose.”
“I’m so sorry.” I could see his eyes glistening, and I knew that I was close to tears myself.
He cleared his throat and scratched his head as if he was trying to remember something. “I know I was going somewhere with this whole thing…”
I searched my memory, retracing our conversation. “Oh yes,” I finally said. “You’d been telling me how God uses hard things to give us dreams.”
“Right.” He sighed. “I guess this is why I don’t usually share this story at the rehab center. It sort of messes with my mind.”
“I appreciate your sharing it with me.”
“Well, the point I was trying to make was that Hope’s death really rocked my world. I honestly didn’t think I would ever get over it. Not only did my practice fall completely apart, but Karen left me shortly after Hope’s death. She met a guy within the same year, and they got married and even had another child. He