Unforgiven

by Rebecca Shea

  “I’ll let you all catch up. I’m going to get some coffee,” he announces and slips out of the waiting room, leaving the three of us alone. Jess finally lets go of Landon and pulls tissues from the Kleenex box on a table to wipe her eyes.

  “Hi, Matt,” she says, giving me a quick hug. I didn’t get the chance to spend a lot of time with Jess when she was in North Carolina, but she looks exactly like I remember her. Landon reaches out to Jess’ wet cheek and I can’t help but notice how, even though it’s been two years, he’s just as caring with her now as he was back in North Carolina. This is a side of Landon we rarely see.

  “So tell me everything,” Landon encourages Jess as we all sit down together. She takes a deep, cleansing breath, folds her hands in her lap, and lays out the last twenty-four hours in gory detail.

  “When I got to her condo about two-thirty yesterday, the place was a disaster. Just so out of character of the Lindsay I remember,” she starts. “I brushed it off, knowing that she’s busy with her new job and just getting settled, but immediately, something just didn’t seem right. You know what I mean?”

  “She’s the poster child for OCD,” I remark and Landon nods in agreement before Jess continues. “Another thing that I noticed right away was how skinny she was and how tired she looked.” Landon buries his head in his hands.

  “Fuck, she used to starve herself in college,” he mumbles, his face still buried. It’s killing me as I’m listening to Lindsay’s past and present collide, knowing I wasn’t there to help her when she needed it. My heart thrums as I think back to her telling me she was leaving for Phoenix. What an asshole I was for acting the way I did. I was selfish. Maybe if I had been more accepting, if we had tried to make it work long distance, she wouldn’t be in the hospital today.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Landon says, looking at me. “There was nothing you could have done or I could have done. There is nothing anyone could have done. I thought she was better and past that,” he says quietly.

  “Go on,” Landon tells Jess.

  “I didn’t know about her anorexia either,” Jess admits. “We went to dinner and she had a couple of drinks, but just picked at her dinner. She didn’t eat. When we got back to the condo, her next door neighbor, Jonah, stopped us and invited us over to a party at his place. I thanked him for the invitation and we went inside and started picking up her room and making the bed when a couple of guys showed up from the party.”

  “Did she know them?”

  “I think so. She was talking quietly with one of them when I left the bedroom to see what was going on.” Landon and I look at each other. “Anyway, we go next door, but just for a little bit, maybe twenty minutes. I was talking to a couple of girls and, all of the sudden, Lindsay was upset and wanted to leave.”

  “Did she say what upset her?”

  “No, just that she was ready to go home. So we did. When we got home, we opened some wine, and she finally told me about how miserable her job has been, her anorexia, you.” She looks at me with sad eyes. “She misses you so much and thinks you hate her.”

  “I don’t hate her; I could never,” I say quietly.

  “That’s what I told her.” She inhales sharply. “So we had a couple of bottles of wine and were talking, when she suddenly got up and said she needed to go to bed. I decided I’d clean up the kitchen and that’s when I heard the thump. I went to check on her and that’s where I found her, bleeding from the head on the floor with the baggie of pills next to her.”

  “Do you know what the pills are?” Landon asks Jess.

  “No. I showed Gabe and he thinks they’re Oxy. He runs into it a lot on his calls,” she says.

  “She was on Oxy after the car accident,” I remind Landon.

  “Yeah, but she was off that a long time ago.”

  “I know. Did she mention taking the pain meds to you?” I ask out of curiosity.

  “I didn’t know anything about the pills,” she says, turning around to see who is entering the waiting room. It’s Gabe with a cardboard carrier full of coffees. He sets the tray on the small end table that sits between us while Jess continues.

  “I immediately checked her vitals. She was breathing. The cut on her forehead was deep, so I grabbed a washcloth and the phone. I panicked. I know what being in the public eye is like, so I hesitated on calling an ambulance when I knew she wasn’t in imminent danger, so that’s when I called Gabe. I told him how I found Lindsay, the pills, the wine and, fortunately, he was about ten minutes away at a sports bar.” Landon looks at Gabe, who is sitting next to Jess, holding her hand.

  “She needed an ambulance,” Gabe cuts in. “She was in pretty bad shape. Her breathing was labored and, with the head injury and unknown substance mixed with alcohol, she needed to be transported, and fast.”

  “I appreciate it,” Landon says.

  “We haven’t heard much since we arrived,” Gabe says, pulling a coffee from the tray.

  “The nurse said that they were putting her in a room and a doctor would come and find us here,” Landon sighs.

  Jess hands out the remaining coffees and we all sit in silence, absorbing everything we’ve just learned. Silent prayers and unknown answers linger in the stale air between us.

  “Christianson. Lindsay Christianson,” the doctor announces as he pushes open the door to the waiting room.

  “Yes,” Landon says as we all stand up to greet him. The young doctor, who looks to be in his late twenties, looks between all four of us.

  “Are you all immediate family?”

  “Yes,” Landon answers without hesitating.

  “Very well. I’m Doctor Jorgenson. I’ve been treating Ms. Christianson. She’s stable for the time being and we’ve just placed her in a room. She’s going to be with us for a few days.” He clears his throat. “We have her intubated to keep her airway open. She has severe respiratory depression. Most likely a side effect of the narcotics she has been taking. She has had a CT scan due to the head injury and she appears to have a mild concussion, no fractures or bleeding, though, which is positive. A plastic surgeon has already stitched up the laceration on her forehead and we’re running an IV with saline and Narcan.”

  “Narcan?” I ask.

  The doctor nods his head. “We ran a blood toxicology report and, along with an elevated blood alcohol level, there were significant amounts of Oxycodone or OxyContin in her bloodstream. The Narcan helps counter the effects of the Oxycodone and also helps with the respiratory depression.”

  “When can we see her?” Landon asks.

  “Well, she’s still not awake. Once she is, we’ll need to evaluate her. You won’t be able to see her for at least another four to six hours, most likely the latter.” We all stand in silence for a few moments and look at each other.

  “Thank you, Dr. Jorgenson,” Landon says as he leaves quietly.

  “So now what?” Jess asks.

  “We wait,” I pipe in.

  “We have to think beyond this, you guys. What happens when she leaves the hospital? She needs help,” Jess says.

  “She does,” Landon agrees.

  “We talked about her getting help for the anorexia and she was optimistic about it, but I didn’t know about the pills at that time.”

  “Jess, did she tell you why she hates work so much?” I’m so curious. This was supposed to be the opportunity of a lifetime for her and to see the effects of her job push her to pills and starvation saddens me.

  She takes a deep breath. “She did. Before I tell you the whole story, let me tell you this. Wilmington was a piece of cake. Everyone at WXZI got along. It was a small station where we were essentially a family. It’s not like that in most markets and at most television stations. It’s a dog-eat-dog, competitive business where people will stab their own grandmother in the back to get ahead. I’ve heard the stories. Fortunately, I left the business before I got to experience any of this. This is exactly what greeted Lindsay here in Phoenix. From the sounds of it, there is one wom
an in particular who has it out for her.”

  “Shit,” I grumble and slouch back in my chair.

  “Anyway, Lindsay has been killing it here. I was checking out the social media feed on the news station’s page and everyone loves her. Every comment was so positive. Lindsay told me she was putting together a story earlier this week and somehow it disappeared from the server along with the SIM card carrying the raw footage. Lindsay can’t prove it was the girl she works with, but…”

  “Why would someone mess with her? I don’t understand,” I question Jess.

  “Jealousy, plain and simple. Lindsay mentioned that the news director was giving her the anchor position at weekend desk. The normal anchor is out of town on vacation and Lindsay has proven herself since she’s been here. Then the missing story happened, and the news director pulled the weekend anchor slot out from underneath her.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Landon says.

  “It gets worse, guys. When the news director pulled the opportunity out from under her, Lindsay lashed out at the girl who everyone believes sabotaged her story and deleted the SIM card.”

  “What do you mean by ‘lashed out’?” Gabe asks.

  “She pushed her against a wall and verbally threatened her in front of other employees. Lindsay said the news director mentioned she was lucky no charges were being pressed.”

  “I’m done. I’ve heard enough.” I jump up. “I need to get into her condo. I’m searching that place for more pills. I need something to focus on until she wakes up.”

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?” Jess asks. “I mean, that’s her personal stuff.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, Jess, but right now, the only thing that matters to me is that she doesn’t have access to use pills once she gets out of here.”

  “So what happens when we all leave? You all are going back to North Carolina, and Gabe and I have to go home to California. What happens then?” The room falls silent while we ponder Jess’ words. “We have to convince her to get help, you guys—not just for the pills,” she says quietly.

  “You’re right, Jess,” Landon says. “But I’m with Matt on this. We’re going to the condo to make sure there are no pills. But what concerns me more is where she’s getting them.”

  “Do you have the keys to her place?” I ask Jess, who looks hesitantly at Gabe. He nods his head at her and squeezes her hand.

  “I have them,” she admits.

  “Let’s go, then. There is no point in us sitting here for another four to six hours,” Landon says, pushing himself up from the chair. Jess sends Gabe back to his hotel to get some rest, telling him she’ll meet him later. We leave quietly, none of us really speaking to each other. I see the worry on Landon’s face, and the exhaustion on Jess’ and, inside, I feel mostly sad. Sad that I wasn’t here to help her, sad that she fell back into a lifestyle that she depended on before me, but mostly sad because she was alone and lost.

  Landon, Jess, and I weave through the busy Phoenix streets to Lindsay’s downtown condo. We park on the street in front of Lindsay’s condo at a parking meter and step out into the torrid Phoenix air. Jess has the keys to Lindsay’s condo in her hand and leads us through the upscale lobby to the elevators. There is a sense of uneasiness as we all step through the threshold and into Lindsay’s condo. It feels as if we’re invading her privacy, and we are—except we’re doing it to save her.

  “Jesus,” Landon mutters as he looks around the condo.

  “It’s mostly just clutter,” Jess tells us. “I’ve already cleaned the kitchen and we started on her bedroom. I’ve got a giant pile of clothes that need to go to the dry cleaners, and then she has about twelve loads of just normal laundry. I’ll get started on that while you two search for pills.” I stand and look around the modern condo and try to envision Lindsay’s life here, without me. Everything in the condo is new; the furniture, the décor, her life—there are no traces of me or her old life anywhere except, for the clothes that are scattered on the floor.

  “I’ll start in the kitchen,” Landon says as he opens cupboards and drawers.

  “Search, and search well, but do not make a mess. I just got that kitchen put back in order,” Jess says, carrying a load of clothes in a laundry basket from what I presume is Lindsay’s room. I stand numb as I battle the conflicting emotions swirling around inside of me—sadness, hurt, and anger.

  “I’ll start in the bedroom,” I say as I sidestep pillows and a remote control that lie on the floor. I step into the master bedroom and I immediately smell her. The light scent of her perfume hangs in the air or on her clothes that sit in sorted piles on the floor. There is a picture of Landon, Lindsay, and their mom, Josie, on her nightstand.

  I walk across the room and pull the long, white sheer curtains open to let the sunlight in. Everything in the room is white; the curtains, the bedding, even the large rug that the bed sits on. The oversized wood furniture is white washed and looks exactly like something Lindsay would like. I pull open the top drawer of the chest that sits against the wall and look for any traces of pills. I search drawer after drawer and find nothing. The first nightstand is empty, clearly not the side of the bed she sleeps on, so I move to the other. Inside the drawer is a book she must be reading, as she has a page dog-eared, a small notebook, a pen, and a small box of condoms.

  “What the fuck,” I mumble to myself as I pick up and open the box. I remember her buying this box of condoms when she was sick and on antibiotics, but we never used them. I count nine condoms from a ten-count box. My stomach flips and my heart sinks. I put the box back in the drawer and close it, hard. The lamp that sits on the table shakes and eventually falls over, crashing to the wood floor.

  “Matt,” Jess asks quietly from behind me. “Are you okay? Did you find pills?” I turn quickly and find her leaning against the doorframe.

  “Did she mention she was seeing anybody?” I don’t know why I ask. I honest to God think it’s best not to know the answer to that question, but somewhere deep inside, I need to know.

  “She didn’t say anything about seeing anyone.” She walks toward me tentatively. “Did you find something?” I stare at the piles of clothes, shoes, and purses on the floor of her bedroom and lose myself in thoughts of her with another man. I nod my head.

  “Yeah, a box of condoms—one’s missing.” Jess’ eyes open wide and she purses her lips, but she doesn’t say anything, “And this picture of her and some guy drinking wine.” I fling the picture at Jess, who catches it and glances at it briefly. Her eyes widen in what I presume is recognition.

  “Matt, none of us can be upset about anything we find. We’re nosing around through her personal items, and I know it’s for good reason, but it’s still her personal stuff,” she says with sympathy in her eyes. “I did things with someone,” she looks over her shoulder and out into the living room where Landon is searching the media stand, “when I wasn’t with Gabe. I can’t confirm she did anything, but you can’t be angry with her. You’re not together.”

  “I am angry, Jess. I’m fucking irate,” I scream at her. “She let another man touch her.”

  “We don’t know that.” She raises her voice back at me.

  “What’s going on?” Landon asks, stepping into the bedroom.

  “I need some fresh air, that’s what’s going on,” I say, pushing past both of them.

  I spend the next hour sitting on a lounge chair, sweating my ass off on Lindsay’s patio. It’s amazing how quickly the decisions you’ve been struggling to make come to you when you’re angry. I beat myself up for not agreeing to come with Lindsay when she asked me, but instead, I rejected her pleas and she left anyway—alone.

  I peel my sweaty body off the thick-cushioned chair and into the retreat of the air-conditioned condo. Landon and Jess sit on the couch talking while Jess folds a pile of clothes, setting them on the coffee table in front of her.

  “Hey,” Landon says as I close the patio door behind me. Both Jess and Landon watch me he
sitantly.

  “Hey,” I reply somberly.

  “You okay, man?” Landon asks.

  “Been better; not gonna lie.”

  “Matt, she loves you,” Jess says. “We talked about it. This entire decision was based on her needing to do something just once in her life for herself. She set career goals for herself and you know she’s one to give everything she has once she’s set her mind on something. She didn’t realize it was going to destroy everything she loved. She hates her job, she hates Phoenix—she hates herself.”

  I nod my head before turning to Landon. “I’m going to grab my bag from the car and catch a cab to the airport. It’s probably best that you and Jess talk to her without me.” I clench my jaw and choke back my emotions.

  “Matt, you have to see her,” Jess begs me. “Don’t leave without seeing her.”

  “Honestly, Jess, I’ve seen enough. She has clearly moved on. You two and whatever his name is—the guy in the picture—can take care of her,” I say quietly before walking away—for good.

  I wake up and try to talk, but am suddenly scared when I realize where I am—in a hospital, alone, with a tube down my throat. As I try to remember how I got here, a doctor and nurse finally come in to remove my breathing tube and answer all the questions that have been going through my head. My fingers brush against the large bandage on my forehead, but it’s the throbbing headache that really gets my attention. It’s a combination of feeling like I’ve been hit in the head with a baseball bat and the worst hangover I’ve ever had. They quietly disappear with promise of returning soon and I let the gravity of my situation finally settle in.

  I rest my arm on a pillow to keep the IV from tugging at the delicate skin on my arm. It’s then I feel the warm tears form in my eyes and slide down my cheeks, pooling in my hair, which rests on the foam hospital pillow. I roll onto my side and sob for everything I’ve done to get me to this point. My stomach aches with hunger and turns with disgust all at the same time. This is truly my rock bottom.