by Nicola Haken
“I’m looking for Dexter Michaels. I’ve been told he’s in ICU.” Chris set our suitcases down and put his hand on the small of my back. For the first time I was glad he was with me. I’m not sure I’d have still been standing if I had to deal with this alone.
“One moment,” the young receptionist with thick black-rimmed glasses and platinum-blonde hair said to me through one of those sickeningly fake smiles. Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, she looked down at her computer screen and started tapping away. “Ah, yes. He’s on the seventh floor,” she clarified, returning her gaze to me. “There’s an elevator through those doors over there…” She pointed to a set of glass doors with metal trims. “Take it to seven, turn left when you exit and follow the signs.”
“Thank you.” I rushed the words out – already sprinting towards the lift.
“Wait up, Emmie!” Chris called after me. I turned briefly to see him struggling with our cases but didn’t stop. I pressed the call button for the lift as soon as I reached it. When it didn’t open immediately I pressed it again, then I hammered my whole hand against it in quick succession until it pinged.
Chris was by my side now and we stepped into the lift together. It felt like my pounding heart had wedged itself in the middle of my throat – choking me as I hit the button for the seventh floor. The doors slid open after an eternity and I stepped out into a long white corridor with faded pastel-pink walls. There was a large desk right in front of us and as I walked over to it, mouth open and ready to talk, I heard my name being called.
“Emily!” My neck snapped around and I saw Sarah barrelling towards me. Before I could respond she threw her arms around me, almost knocking me to the ground. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered, clutching me tightly to her chest and rocking us from side to side.
“How is he?”
“He’s awake,” she answered dejectedly. “But he won’t talk to me. His blood results showed-”
“This is my brother, Chris,” I interrupted, diverting the topic of conversation before she revealed everything to Chris.
“Nice to meet you, Chris,” Sarah said with the warm smile I’d missed so much. She offered her hand and Chris took it, shaking it lightly.
“He didn’t want me travelling alone,” I said, hoping Sarah wouldn’t continue her train of thought.
“I’m glad. You need someone here for you in times like these.” Sarah nodded her head in approval. “Wow. You look so alike. You have the exact same hair colour.”
“Yeah, she gets all her good looks from me,” Chris announced with a playful wink in my direction.
“I need to see him,” I declared, turning the air thick and serious in a heartbeat.
“I’ll, um… go wait over there,” Chris uttered, pointing to a group of chairs lining the corridor with his thumb. I nodded gratefully – relieved that I could speak with Sarah alone.
“You haven’t told him have you?” Sarah asked, nodding her head towards Chris who had his back to us as he went to find a seat. “Why Dexter’s in here I mean.”
“I, erm…” I stumbled over my words – over the lie I was about to tell. “No,” I admitted regretfully. “I don’t want anybody judging him. Dexter’s sick… but people will just think he’s weak and selfish.”
“Oh, honey. If he judges Dexter, it’s only because he loves you. He obviously adores you. That’s why he’s here. You can’t blame him for being protective of you.”
“I know,” I said under my breath, feeling deflated. “And I’ll tell him. I will,” I resolved. “But I need to see Dexter first.”
“Okay, honey. Well I’ll wait out here too – give you some time alone. Maybe he’ll talk to you.” She sounded so defeated… and scared. It made my chest hurt. “And Emily,” she called softly, tugging on my arm as I reached for the door to Dexter’s room. “What I was saying earlier… about his blood results?”
“Yeah…”
“Well…” she trailed off, sounding nervous, terrified and all-out exhausted. “Dexter overdosed on heroin. I don’t know when he made the step up… I don’t know if he did it on purpose… I don’t-”
“No,” I interrupted firmly. “He wouldn’t do that. Dexter wouldn’t try and kill himself.”
Would he?
“I hope you’re right. I hope he talks to you, because he sure as hell won’t even look at me.” I brought Sarah in for a hug because I didn’t know what else to do. She held me close for a few long seconds before pushing me away, wiping a lone tear from her cheek and smiling at me.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said. I forced a weak smile and then she patted my arm and left me alone. Dragging in a long, deep breath I pushed the heavy door open hesitantly, and stepped inside with my eyes closed.
Chapter Eighteen
~Dexter~
Aunt Sarah left a few minutes ago. I didn’t know if she was going home or just grabbing something to eat. Guess I didn’t really care.
My hands were shaking so badly as I leaned over to the wheeled table next to my bed for some water, I ended up spilling it all over the floor. I yelled in frustration then I punched my trembling fist into the mattress.
“Dexter?”
Fuck no. This couldn’t be happening. Emily’s timid voice ripped through my heart and I jerked my neck around towards the sweetest sound in the world.
“Emily,” I breathed. “Get out,” I ordered shakily – withdrawal, disbelief and pure fucking anger at myself making my voice falter.
“No,” she said firmly. “Not this time.” I turned my head away from her and fixed my eyes onto a mystery smudge on the window. Probably bird shit, I thought to myself. I heard Emily’s graceful little footsteps growing louder as she neared my bed but I didn’t acknowledge her. I couldn’t. I was shaking and sweating and I stank like piss and vomit. The worst part? I knew she was going to want me to promise to stay off the shit, yet right now – even with her so close to me I felt faint as the smell of her almond shampoo assaulted my nose – the only thing I could think about was getting the fuck outta here and scoring.
“Dexter look at me.” I felt the mattress dip when she perched her tiny ass on the edge of it. I ignored her completely – too busy analyzing the dollop of bird crap. “Jesus, you’re burning up.” I snatched my hand away from her – ashamed of how violently it was shaking in her palm. “You can keep pushing me away but I’m not leaving.”
“Yeah? Where’ve I heard that before?” I was being a selfish bastard and I knew it. But I’d let her down once before and it would only happen again. I’m not going back there. I’m in no fit state to give her what she needs and I never will be.
In that moment I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
I looked into her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled guilty as I watched a single tear trickle mournfully down her pink cheek. The pain of seeing her beautiful face look so broken, and knowing that I was the cause, was too much to deal with on top of the ferocious aches wracking through my body so I looked away again.
Silence followed. It was a torturous calm – one that flooded the air and made it difficult to breathe. I was getting restless. The shakes were intensifying and the pangs twisting deep inside my gut were making me want to vomit. I needed Emily to leave. I needed to call the nurse and ask when the fuck my next dose of whatever shit they’re pumping me with was due. I needed to shout and scream and punch the fuckin’ wall until my knuckles started bleeding…
I couldn’t do any of that shit with her here. She’d seen enough.
“Did you do it on purpose?” Emily asked gingerly, crashing into the dense wall of silence.
“What the fuck kind of question is that?” I snapped angrily – knowing exactly what she meant. “I’m not a fucking head case!” The longer she stayed the closer I became to losing it. The pain in my bones was becoming unbearably intense and I just wanted to curl myself up into a ball and rock it away.
“No,” I eventually added, taking
lingering, calming breaths. I’m too much of a pussy to kill myself. “But that doesn’t mean I wish I hadn’t succeeded.” The second I heard a pain-filled gasp catapult from Emily’s lungs I regretted the words that just tumbled out of my worthless fucking mouth. I thought about taking them back but it would just be another lie. She’d heard enough of them and she didn’t deserve any more.
Truth is, I wish to God I’d never woke up.
Emily grabbed my hand again but when I tried to shrug it away she clamped harder. It was pointless resisting. My veins have been pumped with that much shit since I got here I was too weak to put up a decent fight. Yeah alright… so I’m not averse to filling my veins with junk, but whatever they’ve been using here has wiped me the fuck out.
“But at least you can get the help you need now,” Emily continued nervously. “Sarah said they will admit you back into the rehab clinic. You can get clean… get counseling…”
“I don’t want any fucking help,” I barked. “What I want, is to get the fuck out of here and score the first rock of shit I can find. What I want is to stop the consuming pains ricocheting through my body. I want to stop the burn in my throat – like salt being rubbed into a gaping wound – from throwing up so often. I want to stop the shaking, the sweating and all the goddam fucking hurt!” I ripped my fingers through my hair so forcefully loose strands were wedged between my fingers when I brought my hands over my face. “But most of all… I want to forget.”
What I wanted… was a hit.
“You don’t mean that,” she argued weakly. “That’s not the real you talking.”
“Yes, doll. It is. I always come back to this.” Ice-cold sweat starting seeping from my shivering pores – soaking straight through the blue gown they’d dressed me in and onto the sheets. “I need you to go now,” I said – my voice weak as I tried to swallow back vomit. “Please, doll,” I added when she made no attempt to move.
“No.”
“Seriously… I’m gonna…”
Fuck.
I wiped my mouth on my forearm as I stared at the pool of vomit on the floor. I was confused when I noticed Emily standing over me with her hand on my back. I hadn’t noticed her rise from the bed and I couldn’t feel her touching me through the violent spasms in my muscles.
“It’s okay,” she whispered into my hair. “I’m here.”
“Why?” I breathed solemnly, in between retches. “Why’d you come back, doll?” She pulled my head against her chest and when I felt the rapid thrum of her heart against my ear, a solitary tear trickled wretchedly down my face.
“Because I love you.” Her timid voice cracked as she held my head steady in a vice like grip. “Because I will always love you.”
Still holding me tightly to her chest, she rocked us back and forth for several minutes. Gradually, the dry heaves grew weaker and the excessive sweat started to dry…
For now.
“I’m scared, Emily,” I admitted for the first time. “I’m so fucking scared.” My body trembled with a thousand different emotions – emotions I didn’t want or deserve to feel. “Any good that was hidden inside of me is deteriorating. I feel like I’m disappearing.” Emily took my face in her hands and pressed her nose against mine.
“You’re not disappearing, Dex. I won’t let you,” she whispered against my lips before brushing them with hers in one feathery soft movement. “And even if you did… I would find you. I would find you and bring you back. I’ve tried leaving you – tried to shock you…” She shook her head and closed her eyes, sucking in a deep breath. “And it damaged us both. I will never make that mistake again. This journey is going to be hard – I know that. It’s a road that will be painful, difficult and at times terrifying if we take it together… but one that neither of us will survive if we try and take it alone.”
Suddenly, twenty-four years of pent up emotion bubbled to the surface and exploded out of every pore in my body, leaving me a wailing, shaking mess as I fell apart in Emily’s arms.
“Never forget that I love you.” She mirrored the words I’d said so often to her. Then, wrapping my arm around her and holding on tight – terrified of letting her go but knowing I would have to… I cried impossibly harder.
Chapter Nineteen
~Emily~
When Dexter cried himself into a restless sleep I snuck out of the room. Sarah approached me first and asked how he was with just a look. My throat was too swollen to talk and I fell into her arms, becoming a shaking, sobbing mess. She held me like that for a few minutes until I stopped choking on my own tears.
“Did he say anything?” she asked, worry creasing her face and making her look old and tired.
“He said he’s scared.” My voice trembled as more tears began swimming down my throat. “I didn’t expect him to look so…” I shook my head as I struggled to find the right word. “Sick.”
“Horrible isn’t it?” she agreed, nodding weakly. “But that’s just the drugs leaving his system. They’re giving him something to counteract it… wean him off slowly. But it won’t last long. A few days maybe… then the hard work starts.”
“Emmie?” Chris startled me with a hand on my shoulder. I smiled at him… I think. I’m not sure how convincing it was.
“You two should go home. Get some rest,” Sarah suggested.
“I don’t want to leave him.”
“Honey, you’ve travelled a long way. You need something to eat and a sleep. There’s nothing more you can do here tonight.”
“I think she’s right, Emmie,” Chris butted in.
“Besides,” Sarah continued. “I’ll be home myself soon. They’re due to kick all visitors out any time now.”
“Okay,” I agreed reluctantly. Sarah gave me her new address again in case I’d forgotten and told me where I could ring a taxi from. After kissing her goodbye on the cheek, Chris picked up our luggage and walked alongside me towards the exit.
“Are you ready to talk yet?” he asked when we neared the automatic doors at the main entrance. I shook my head, unable to look at him and knowing I would cry again if I did. “Well I’m right here when you are.”
**********
Wow. Sarah’s new place is tiny – even by the standards of my flat in London. Well, I’m not too sure it is my flat anymore. I miss it. I miss Rachel.
But I can’t afford to dwell on that just now.
There are only two bedrooms and I carried my things through to the one that obviously wasn’t Sarah’s. The walls were bare, the queen-sized bed unmade and there were boxes of Dexter’s belongings stuffed into the corner. I found myself rummaging through them while Chris was familiarising himself with the flat. In other words, he was being a nosey sod.
Beneath the magazines and DVD’s it was mostly clothes. I pulled out his black t-shirt with the name of a band I’ve never heard of printed in cracked white letters on the front. Burying my nose in it, I inhaled deeply. The familiar scent tore through my heart and once again I was crying. I hugged the black shirt tight to my chest and nuzzled the comforting fabric, letting it absorb my sadness.
“Hey,” Chris said, popping his head around the doorframe. “Just letting you know Sarah’s in the living room.”
“She’s home?” How long had I been sitting here for? It only felt like a couple of minutes. Wiping my tears on the sleeve of my caramel jumper, I nodded. “I’ll be through in a minute.”
“I like her. She’s a sweet lady,” he said sincerely. He almost sounded surprised.
“Yeah,” I agreed with a smile. “She is.”
After tucking Dexter’s t-shirt under my pillow I hopped in the shower and changed into my cupcake pyjamas before heading through to the living room. The homely aroma of beef and onions wafted up my nose and it was only then that I realised how hungry I was.
“Shepherd’s pie,” Sarah beamed when she saw me approaching.
“You remembered?”
“Of course I remembered, honey. You’re like a daughter to me.” My heart melted and
I didn’t miss the rise of one of Chris’ eyebrows when he realised just how close Sarah and I are.
“Do you need any help?” I offered.
“No thanks. I’m making good use of your brother here.” Widening my eyes in disbelief I looked at Chris. Sure enough he was actually helping.
In a kitchen.
Preparing food that didn’t require the packet stabbing and popping in the microwave.
“God you’re good,” I praised Sarah, blinking my eyes in case I was imagining the image of Chris being a domestic god.
“She hit me with a tea-towel,” Chris scoffed, never looking up from the carrots he was dicing. We all giggled, but it was strained. I knew Sarah was with me in feeling physically sick with worry about Dexter and I knew Chris was worried too, even though he didn’t know why.
There is a small, round, pine table in Sarah’s kitchen and I sat myself on one of the two wooden stools around it while I watched them work on dinner. We made idle chitchat for a while – discussing trivial things like our flight and Chris’ garage… anything to fill the uncomfortable silence.
“Mind if I take a shower too?” Chris asked Sarah when he ran out of jobs to do. All the vegetables were simmering away on the stove and the meat was browning nicely in the frying pan.
“As long as you’re back to wash the dishes, knock yourself out,” Sarah teased. Chris saluted her and then kissed the top of my head on his way past. When I was sure he was out of earshot I turned to Sarah.
“I have Patricia’s cheque with me,” I announced quietly. She pursed her eyebrows and came to join me at the table. “I think you should cash it. I don’t know much about medical bills and stuff, but I know you have to pay for the kind of treatment Dexter will need over here. That money could solve that for you.”
“I think you’re right,” she agreed with a long sigh as she lowered herself onto the other stool. “But I want to talk to her myself first.”