The Truth About Love (14 page)

Then the doorbell rang.  
For some reason, I suddenly felt vulnerable and nervous about visitors after dark. 
As I opened the door, a plate was thrust towards me, and when I peeled the napkin back I found chicken cordon bleu, uncut green beans, and homemade macaroni and cheese.  God bless Lola. “Come in!  Thank you.”  I gushed.

“I was worried about what you had to eat in the house.”

She looked at me expectantly, so I finally smirked and responded.

“Cereal.” I admitted.

She wore a look of triumph.  As we moved into the great room, she gestured to the coffee table where at least eight bottles were grouped in the center.  

“What’s with the pills?

Swallowing a bite of food, I responded.  “I was instructed to collect all his pills.”

“Is that everything?”  She didn’t seem surprised.

“Yeah.  I think so.  He’s really not good at hiding.  I tore this place apart, and his truck.”  I shrugged.

“Well, I have to get going, but what are you going to do with these pills?”

I shrugged, out of answers.
 
There was a moment of silence while we both stared at them.  Finally, she spoke as she stood to leave.

“Get rid of them.  There may come a day that they start to look good to you.  You are under a lot of stress right now.  Remove the temptation.”

I made a face.  Then she left and Kylie and I were alone for the first time in a week.  We’d been around people non-stop.  It was nice at first, all the love and support.  After a while, I just need space.  This was my big chance.

Since dinner was over and Kylie was resting comfortably on the couch, I decided to finally look at the pill bottles and call in my finds to the hospital.  Lifting them one by one, I studied the name and looked up the ones I didn’t recognize because of their generic names.  Just as I had claimed, there was an almost empty bottle of Adderall, two partial bottles of Xanax I had found in the truck and our bathroom. There was a bottle of Wellbutrin he never took, and two bottles I finally identified as Somas, muscle relaxants.  According to the date, they were filled on Sunday, just before his breakdown on Monday, by two different doctors, our primary care physician and his drug addictions doctor.  Given the number of pills remaining, he had ingested over fifty of them in four days.

Sitting down hard, I was stunned.  How did I not know?  I thought back over Sunday, remembering it too clearly.  
S
hane had been cranky, so I brought Kylie out to play with all the kids in the neighborhood.  They were all gathered in Lola and Evan’s yard and driveway.  Soon Kylie was coloring on the concrete with sidewalk chalk, happy as can be.  He had come outside, only as far as his truck to retrieve a fresh pack of cigarettes when I called to him and motioned for him to come join us.

He came over and announced he was heading to the store, he’d be right back.  We all knew how long these errands took with Shane.  After he left, the guessing began as everyone predicted how long he’d be gone.  It would be a while, I was sure.  An hour and a half later, he returned.  Not bad timing since he had clearly gone to two pharmacies to have scripts filled.  Dammit.  No wonder he snapped Monday.  He was completely over medicated.

So, I called the hospital.
 
After explaining the large quantity of Somas he had eaten, I then talked to them about his pharmacies of choice and the doctors who were prescribing him the drugs.  Yes, suddenly I was quite the narc.  I didn’t have much choice.  Without complete and total honesty, there was no hope for his recovery.  Sometimes, we have to face the truth of our actions, our choices, and the damage we have done to our life and relationships before we can even try to move forward and heal.  It was going to be a long hard road for Shane.  For him, it was incredibly challenging to be honest with himself.

When I was through the nurse spoke.  “Thank you.  This will be very helpful.”

She attempted to end the call, but I had to know.  “How is he?  No one has told me anything yet.”

The nurse was quiet a moment while she considered her words.
  “
Well, he’s had a bit of a rough night.  He was getting threatening with the staff, so we had to sedate him.  He’s sleeping comfortably now.”

In my mind, I could completely picture it.  I knew what he was like.  This wasn’t requiring any stretch of my imagination.  Shaking my head, I tried to rid myself of those images.
  “
Okay, thank you.”  

After the call, I snuggled with Kylie and went to sleep.  

Chapter Thirteen
 

Mid-morning, my phone rang.  It was him.
  “
Hi.”
 
He sounded so broken.

As always, my heart thudded from simply hearing his voice.  “
How are you?” 

“I’m good,” he murmured.  Then as if to explain his tone, he muttered.  “It’s the meds.”

It made sense.  “Okay.  Do you need anything?”  The conversation felt so awkward and strained. 

“Yeah, but they won’t let me have any of my own things yet.”   

I wasn’t sure what else to say, but I wanted to give him some hope.  “I’m trying to come see you tonight.  They won’t let Kylie in, but I’m trying to visit.  If not, I’ll see if Evan can come with me so you can see a friendly face.”

It seems to work.  He had perked up.  “Sounds good.”

Then I had nothing else to say so we ended our call.

In the afternoon, Kylie and I went grocery shopping.  When we returned, I talked to Evan.  “Are you sure you don’t mind going with me tonight?  They might not let me in.  If they do, you’ll have to hang out with Kylie.  If they don’t you can let him see a familiar face.”

Nodding, Evan responded.  “I love little ones.  What time are we leaving?”

I heaved a sigh of relief.  “Visiting hours are from six until eight at night, so I thought just before six?

“Just holler and I’ll be ready to go.” 

So, I killed time by feeding the baby, and gathering her things.  It didn’t take long before Shane called.
  He sounded tense.  “
When are you coming?”

“We’re leaving in about fifteen minutes.”  Life was hard enough at the moment without him rushing me.

“Can you bring me clean boxers?  I’d really like some clean underwear.”  There was a pleading edge to his voice.

“Sure!”  The nurturer in me needed to help him.

Soon after the call, we left.  There was little conversation during the drive.  I was concerned about seeing Shane for the first time in eight days.  There were so many questions swirling through my head.  He had been nice on the phone, but I worried if it would change when he saw me.  

We parked and walked to the building.  Once inside, we were directed to use the phone outside the locked wing.  After waiting for several minutes, a nurse came to let me in.  It felt like I was holding my breath while I worried about being denied access.  Instead, she examined me and made an announcement.
“You need to close that sweater.  No skin showing at all here.  Leave your purse and the baby stays.”

So, I passed Kylie to Evan, along with my purse and the toys I had brought to entertain her with.  He turned to walk to the waiting area across the hall that had a children’s play area.  Kylie waved at me happily as we parted.  Then I buttoned the top button of my sweater and followed her into the wing.  We traveled down a maze of hallways.  The commercial carpet whispered under my feet.   Finally we stopped before a desk.

“Sign in here.  Sign out when you leave.”  The nurse ordered brusquely.

Nodding, I did as I was told and waited for someone to show me where to go from there.  Another nurse led me to this open room where a bunch of patients were meeting with family members and friends.  There, in the back of the room, sat Shane.  

I walked to him as calmly as I could through the tables and chairs. He stood to greet me with a tentative hug.  For the first time, I examined him.  He was wearing hospital scrubs, the mint green ones separating the patients from the dark blue scrubs of the staff.  His beard and mustache were closely cut, but he had a horrible shaving rash, since his skin was so sensitive and he hadn’t had any of his toiletries.  I glanced up and realized he had a horrible wound on his face covered by a huge bloody bandage.  

“What happened?”  In my mind, I pictured the worst.

“Shaving.”  He shrugged.

There was nothing to say, so I nodded.  When I looked up, he was studying me and had a strange look on his face.
  “
What’s up?”  I felt nervous, like this was some supervised first date.  In a way, it was.  I didn’t know this man at all.

“Just looking at you,” he explained shyly.
Reaching out, he held both my hands in his.  His touch felt really cold compared to the warmth I was used to feeling from him.
“
You look fuzzy.”

“Oh?”  I struggled to adjust to the man before me.

“Yeah.  It’s the drugs.  I’m not sure what I’m on, but they make me sleepy and everything looks fuzzy.”  He leaned back against the wall while he spoke.

“How do you feel otherwise?”  I pressed.

It took him a moment to answer while he assessed.  “Calm.”  Suddenly, he looked up for a moment and a light came on in his eyes for the first time since he saw me.
  “
Kylie? How’s my baby?”

Beaming, I started telling him how amazing she is, on the off chance he’d forgotten.
  “
She’s out in the waiting area with Evan right now.”
 
His eyes widened in surprise.  It must have been agony to know she was so close, but he couldn’t see her.

Suddenly, he stood and seemed to remember something.
  “
Would you like a drink?”

My head tilted.  “Sure, what are my options.”

He studied the counter on the side of the room.  “Water.”

“No, I’m good.”  I smiled.

“Okay.”  Then he walked away.
 
Moments later he returned to the table with two cups of water.  Without saying a word, I took the one he passed me and sipped from it.  I turned my head to locate the only clock in the room and realized on the other side of the knee wall sat about five nurses, two orderlies, and one guard, all watching every movement of the individuals in the open room.  Turning my attention back to Shane, I saw he was leaning back, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“
It’s time for me to go.”  In truth, I had a good hour left, but he wasn’t going to make it and I was out of things to say.

“I’m going to bed.”  He announced.

Standing, I waited for him to walk me out.  For a moment he struggled, then was at my side.  His hand was on my lower back as we walked out toward the desk.  We reached a fork between the wards and he paused.  Leaning over, he gave me an almost chaste kiss on the lips followed by a tender hug.
  “
See you tomorrow, unless they let me out?”

I nodded and swallowed my sorrow.  It hurt to see him hoping to come home given the circumstances.  “Sure.  We’ll talk in the morning.  Call me.”

Then he padded down the other hall toward his room, and I walked to the desk to sign out, collect my baby, and go back to what was left of our home.  

***

Bright and early in the morning, Shane called me full of excitement.

“What’s going on?”  Already my mind raced from confusion and concern.

“I think they are letting me go home today or tomorrow.”  He had this child-like exuberance at the moment.

I sat down hard in the kitchen chair.  “Okay.  Wow.”
  I didn’t know what to say. 
First, I wasn’t convinced anything had changed.  He hadn’t had any therapy.  I still hadn’t spoken to any doctor.  There was no way he could come home with the Order of Protection in place.  The final court date was Thursday.  As soon as we ended the call, I phoned the hospital and asked to speak to his nurse.

“Is he being released today?”  I blurted out. 

“No, ma’am.”  She responded calmly.

Standing to pace, I tried to organize my thoughts.  “Why does he think he’s being released?”

“We’re transferring him to the long term care unit.”

With a sigh, I considered the ramifications of this news.  
“
Have you thought about what this kind of disappointment can do to someone in his state?”

“I just do what I’m told.”   

Looking to the ceiling, I struggled to contain my frustration.  “I get it.  Who do I need to speak with?”

“The social worker will call you soon.  She doesn’t have a voicemail or an office, so I can’t transfer you,” the nurse explained.

“Okay.” 
With my hands tied, the call ended.  Determined not to waste a moment, I showered as quickly as possible.
The phone call from Maria, the social worker, came as I finished dressing.

“I was told you wanted to speak with me,” Maria began.

Inhaling sharply, I asked the question I feared the answer to.  “When do you think he’ll be getting out and when is the doctor going to speak to me?”

There was silence for a moment while she carefully considered her words.  “I’m not sure.  We haven’t finished creating a care plan for him.  The doctor is concerned that he is withholding information, so she won’t even consider letting him go until he lets everything out.  As for the release...when he is released, does he have anywhere to go?”

Frowning, I answered honestly, “Not really.  No.”

“I know about the Order of Protection,” Maria admitted.  “We have discussed that one possibility for him is to complete an intensive 90 Day Outpatient Program.  In order for him to do this, it would be best if he were able to be back in the home.”  She waited for me to react.

There it was.  Involuntarily, I let out a sigh.
  “
You need to understand it’s not just about me.  We have a baby.  What kind of guarantee do I have we’ll be safe if I let him move home?  I’d need to have the order lifted and I’m not comfortable with that idea.”  

I could hear a pen tapping.  “What if we have him in a court mandated program?  He would have to complete it or go back to jail.  Coming back here wouldn’t be an option.”

She used all the right words.  Court mandated.  Jail.  “And he would be aware of this?  He’d know that he was in jeopardy of going back to jail?”

“Absolutely.  You would be safe because with a single call, he would be back in jail.”

“Let me think about it.”  Our call ended.  The pressure had me in knots.  My stomach burned, my head pounded, and my heart ached. 

Half an hour later, before I’d even come close to making a decision, Shane had called back.

“So, I’m not going home for a couple of days, but I am one step closer.  Can you come tonight?”  He still seemed really upbeat despite the disappointment.

“I’ll try.”  Already I wondered how I could make it work.

“Oh, and could you bring me some sleep pants and socks?”  It came so natural to him, asking for my help.

“Of course.”  As always, I felt responsible for his happiness.  It was time to reach out to Brynn.  She was hardly ever near her phone, but I knew I could message her and hear from her quickly through Facebook.  

me: Wanna pack up Max and come stay a few days?

Within minutes, she had responded with a phone call.  
“
Max has a doctor appointment this morning.  Want to pick us up after lunch?”

Feeling relieves and excited, I responded honestly.  “I’d love to!”

When I picked her up, I warned her to prepare for cold nights without a thermostat.  Then we ran to the grocery store.  I hadn’t bought nearly enough food yesterday for a second adult in the house.

Before leaving at six in the evening, I made sure Kylie was fed and our meal was planned.  Brynn had promised to start it when I called on the way home.  At the last minute, I grabbed a Target bag and stuffed a pair of his sleep pants in it along with some socks, per his request.  The drive was already becoming too familiar to me and I didn’t like it.  Even less did I enjoy leaving Kylie in the evenings.  Instead of snuggling her, I was driving to see my husband who had terrorized us, abused prescription drugs, wrecked my trust and broken my heart with his actions.  Part of me questioned why I was being so nice to him, why I was leaving my baby to go to the hospital.  The other part knew I had no choice.  I still loved him.  If I wanted a shot at our future, I had to make sure I was part of his recovery.

After parking, I stepped from the vehicle and walked to the front entrance of the building.  Nodding, I passed the information desk, recognizing the same face I had seen the night before.  With the kind of confidence born from familiarity, I punched the phone number to the new wing and announced who I was visiting.  Then I waited.

To prevent annoyance while I waited, I used their Wi-Fi to check out my emails and Facebook.  Several nurses passed through the doors with their cards, asked who I was there to visit and promised to come back and get me, but no one showed.  After waiting for twenty minutes, I had completely lost my patience and called again.
  “
This is my second phone call.”  I announced.

“Yes, ma’am, we’re just trying to find the release he signed.”

I spoke through gritted teeth.  “So, not only you are admitting you lost paperwork moving from one hall to the next, but you’re also admitting you haven’t figured out it would’ve been faster by now to have him sign a new release?  I’ve been waiting here for over twenty minutes.”