From Smoke To Flames— Amazon: A West Brothers Novel Read online

  “Jesus, what the hell happened?” he asked. Sammie scurried out of the little cubicle.

  “Sit.”

  He glanced around at all the equipment in the room. I was still in the ICU. Dr. O’Shea had said they would transfer me out today.

  “I overdosed.”

  He didn’t say anything at first, but the pain in his ice blue eyes was difficult to hide. And then there were the silent tears, as they slowly slid down his cheeks. Hudson had always been my hero, and here I was, a huge disappointment to him.

  He grabbed my hand and said, “I need the whole story, Pearson.”

  And I gave it to him, beginning with the shoulder surgery and ending with this moment.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Soft, compassionate eyes stared at me, but guilt nearly choked me.

  “I thought I would kick it. I honestly did. I thought I was strong enough. But I lied to you, Mom, Dad, Grey. I was neck deep and covered it up.”

  “But, Pearson, heroin?” The way he said that ugly word made me cringe, as though I hadn’t done enough of that already.

  I sighed. “When I couldn’t get prescriptions for Lortab, or other pain meds, I went to street drugs. And heroin is so easy to get.”

  “But …”

  “Just say it. I want everything out in the open between us.”

  “I never thought –”

  I let out a remorseful laugh. “You and me both. The first time was supposed to be the only time. But it’s obvious how that went.”

  He slid his chair even closer to the bed and grabbed my entire arm. “You have to beat this. I mean it, Pearson. You could’ve died.”

  Shame like I’d never felt before washed over me. “I know. I will. I swear I will.” My stomach tightened into a tight ball as I watched his eyes constrict with grief. Doubt lurked in their depths and how could I blame him for that? I had a lot to prove to him and the others.

  “What are we going to tell the rest of the family?”

  “There is no we in this. Only me. It’s my burden, Hudson, and I’m going to tell them the truth. My name is Pearson West and I am a drug addict and an alcoholic.”

  Chapter Two

  Pearson

  * * *

  Sammie came back in after Hudson and I were talking for about an hour. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but we’re getting ready for a shift change and I thought I’d check to see if you needed anything before I left.”

  “Thank you, but I’m fine.” She waved as she left. My hands trembled as I slid to the edge of the bed. I turned to Hudson and said, “I have a favor to ask. Will you call Mom and Dad and ask them to come over? I would, but I won’t be able to get the words out without breaking down.”

  “Sure. You want me to do it now?”

  “Yeah. The sooner, the better.”

  Dr. Martinelli walked in right then. “How’s it going?”

  “As good as it can be, considering. This is my brother, Hudson.” I made the introductions.

  “Let me explain a few more things. As I told you earlier, we have you on diazepam and methadone. Over the next two days, we’re going to taper the diazepam down. The methadone will stay until you go to rehab. That’s where you’ll slowly get off of that. The good news is you’ll have intense supervision there. The bad news is that’s where you’ll experience the heroin withdrawal. I’m not into sugarcoating. You’ve already been through a little of that. When you knew you needed another dose? Times that by ten thousand or more. You understand?”

  I was already trembling. The methadone was working, but not at a hundred percent. I didn’t want to think about what I faced ahead. “Yeah, I do. But I don’t have a choice.”

  “I’m glad you see it that way.”

  My brother said, “You’ll have your family supporting you, Pearson.”

  “I hope so.”

  “You doubt it?”

  “Right now, I’m not sure about anything.”

  Dr. Martinelli said, “That’s common and you and I are going to have some intensive talks about how to deal with things. You won’t be going through this alone. The main thing is not to hold anything back.”

  “Pearson, Mom and Dad would do anything in the world for you. Never doubt that. Did you call the firm?”

  “Yeah. I have twelve weeks leave.”

  “Mr. West, let’s take this one step at a time.”

  “I’m already shaking. I can’t imagine what I’ll be doing a week from now.”

  “You’ll be sick. But they won’t cold turkey the methadone. They taper it so nothing is extreme. The worst part is the psychological withdrawal. And that’s where I come in. I’m available whenever you need me.”

  A cold sense of apprehension whipped through me. I knew what she was talking about. I had experienced the psychological dependency. It lingered in my mind every day, was anchored in my soul. It was why I hadn’t already given up the drug … why I hadn’t voluntarily gone to rehab. Heroin acted like your best friend at first. Come to me, taste me. I’ll take away all your problems. You’ll have no worries or pain anymore. Just a little bit, you’ll see. And you didn’t. It was disguised as a white angel. But it wasn’t. It was the darkest demon. At first, it was a light puffy cloud you floated on, comforting you, cushioning any blow or pain you may feel. Until you came down and each high lasted a shorter period of time, making you need more and more of the shit. If you didn’t get it, you’d sweat, vomit, shake, act crazy as fuck, until you did. And so the cycle went and that was the life of an addict. I wanted that peace. I wanted that cloud. I wanted that comfort. Even if it was only for a few minutes. Because once you attained it, there was nothing to compare it to.

  “Mr. West? Are you with us?”

  “Sorry. Yeah.”

  “Pearson, you okay?” Hudson asked.

  “Not exactly.”

  “What is it?” Dr. Martinelli asked.

  “Everything.”

  “You’d better talk now,” Hudson said.

  “Just anxious over what I’m about to face.”

  “You won’t be alone,” he reminded me.

  And then I let it fly. “Hudson, you don’t get it. You can’t possibly understand. You’ve never done any drug in your life.”

  He stared at me like the crazy fuck that I was.

  Dr. Martinelli said, “He’s right. He needs your support, but an addict is in a difficult position. Drugs are very compelling. But Mr. West, your family must love you very much.”

  “I don’t feel very well. I’m sorry, Hudson. But you don’t understand what heroin is like.”

  “No, clearly I don’t.”

  “Can you please call Mom and Dad, and Grey too? I need to get this off my chest.”

  “Sure.”

  He left the room.

  I looked at Dr. Martinelli. “What are my odds?”

  “I don’t believe in odds.”

  “Come on, doc. You’ve been doing this for how long?”

  “Four years.”

  “Then you must have some kind of knowledge of how many people actually beat it.”

  “As I said, I don’t believe in that. But I have a couple of people I think you should talk to. They might help you out.”

  “Former addicts?” I asked.

  “There is no such thing. We call them recovering addicts.”

  “Semantics.”

  “I can give you their names and numbers if you’re interested. One of them sustained an injury and ended up on pain meds, which took him down a path similar to yours.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “When you’re ready. He’s also an NA counselor.”

  Hudson walked in and announced everyone was on their way.

  Dr. Martinelli left and said she’d be back later that afternoon.

  Mom and Dad arrived with Grey about an hour and a half later. Grey canceled out the rest of the day and drove them in. Mom immediately ran to me and hugged me.

  “What happened?” she asked.

&n
bsp; “I need to tell you all something that’s not going to be easy to hear. But, I might as well get to the point. I’m a drug addict and an alcoholic.”

  They all stared at me and didn’t say a word.

  Mom was the first one to speak. “Pearson, you can’t be a drug addict.”

  “Yes, Mom, I am. I’m addicted to opiates, but the worst part of it is I’m a heroin addict.”

  She refused to believe it.

  “It’s true, Mom. Right now they’re giving me methadone. Someone found me and called 911. I nearly died.”

  Her hands covered her face. Disgrace, dishonor, there were too many words to describe the awful emotions that filled me as I watched my family stare at me in horror. I went on to tell the whole story, as I did with Hudson.

  Grey asked, “Why didn’t you come to me? I could’ve helped.”

  Of course he could have. He’s a physician and would have connected me with someone.

  “I really thought I could control it or beat it. I never thought I’d end up like this.”

  “Oh, Pearson,” Mom cried.

  “I know, Mom. I’m going to rehab for God knows how long. I’ll do an intensive thirty days and then after that, I’ll go somewhere else. The psychiatrist has recommended another thirty days.”

  “Of course you must go,” Mom said.

  Dad said nothing. I’m sure his son had destroyed his heart. A bigger disappointment he’d never faced. “Dad, I realize I’ve disappointed you.”

  “Disappointed me? Pearson, my God, son, I’m just thankful we’re having this conversation and not …” when his voice cracked, that was when I lost it.

  I sobbed out the words, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for lying to you. I’m sorry for making you worry. But I swear I’m going to kick this.”

  Ten days later I would be wondering whether or not I could keep that promise.

  Chapter Three

  Rose

  * * *

  “No, I can’t pick her up at four. I’m working until five and can’t possibly get there until six, as our arrangement states.”

  “Then I’ll just have to take her with us, and you’ll miss out on your visitation this time.”

  “You can’t do that,” I yelled.

  “Then what do you propose? We are leaving at four.” I imagined his smug grin.

  “Why didn’t you give me any notice?” I ground my molars. He did this every time it was my turn for visitation. He was such an asshole. He loved to undermine everything.

  “This opportunity just came up.”

  “I’m sure it did. Can we switch weekends?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “Let me call you back.” I hung up the phone, cursing him, his fucking attorney who somehow got him custody of our daughter, and everyone else he knew.

  I called my mom, maybe she could pick her up, although she had as much interest in her grandchild as she did moldy bread. “Mom, can you pick up Montana for me at four? Greg is being his usual mean-spirited self and won’t wait for me to get there until six.”

  “Sorry, honey, but I’m leaving at noon for an out of town weekend with the girls.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  Shit, fuck, damn. What was I going to do? I had to see Montana. I only got her every other weekend as it was.

  My office door swung open and it was one of my co-workers and friends, Sylvie West. “Oooh, that’s angry face if I’ve ever seen one.”

  “Fucking Greg again.”

  “Now what?”

  “He’s leaving today at four and wants me to pick up Montana then. I don’t finish until five and can’t get there until six. Asshole. He knows this. He waits until the last minute on purpose to keep me from her.”

  “The great manipulator. Why don’t you go back to court?”

  “I can’t afford it with child support and all.”

  “Wait, you’re paying him child support?”

  “Yeah, because he’s the custodial parent and even though his earnings far surpass mine, he demanded I pay. Honestly, I don’t mind paying, as long as I know the money goes to Montana. But it pisses me off when he pulls this crap, which is all the time.”

  “Can’t you get someone to pick her up?”

  “My mom is going out of town, so she can’t. And there is no one else.”

  Sylvie sighed. “There must be someone.” She clicked her fingers. “I know. My neighbor. She probably can do it. And drive her here.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because she’s a mom and is an empty nester. She’s always telling me how much she misses her kids and wishes they’d have kids except none of them are married or have a significant other yet.”

  “Are you sure?” Skepticism ruled right now.

  “We won’t know if we don’t call.”

  Sylvie made the call and her friend, Rita, was thrilled to do it. My hopes soared, but then I realized she’d need a booster seat. Montana was four and couldn’t ride without one.

  “Greg won’t let her borrow one?”

  “Are you serious? He does everything he can to make it impossible for me.”

  Sylvie went to make a call.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m calling Rita back. She can find a car seat.”

  “They’re expensive.”

  Sylvie waved her hand. “She has plenty of friends who have grandkids. One of them is bound to have one.”

  Sure enough, Sylvie was right. Rita took care of it and saved the day by picking up Montana for me. Greg wasn’t too happy about it, but too bad. I doubted he had plans anyway. He was just trying to prevent me from seeing my daughter.

  Right before I left, I grabbed the charts for the cases that would be coming in over the weekend so I could familiarize myself with the new patients. I crammed them into my bag, along with my laptop, and hurried out of there. I was beyond excited to see my daughter. I’d planned to meet Rita in between here and home to save her from driving the extra twenty minutes, so I had to get a move on.

  Traffic wasn’t too bad, it could’ve been worse. I didn’t care. Just the thought of hugging Montana brought a smile to my face.

  I pulled into the Quickie Shop and there was the car Rita had described.

  A middle-aged woman hopped out with a warm smile as she greeted me.

  “Rose?”

  “Rita?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “I honestly don’t know how to thank you.” I reached out to hug her. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “Little Montana’s father wasn’t very happy to relinquish her to me, so thank God you thought to email that letter.”

  “I figured as much. He’s not a very nice person.” That was putting it mildly.

  “No, he’s not. Anyway, someone is waiting for you.”

  I opened the back door and there she sat, her black ringlets bouncing as she clapped her hands.

  “Mommy.” She stretched her arms out and I almost burst into tears.

  “My little Pop Tart! How is my girl?” I unbuckled the safety harness and pulled her out of the seat. Then I hugged the living daylights out of her. “Ohhhh, how I missed you, my sweet girl!” I spun around in a circle until a stream of giggles poured out of her.

  “I missed you toooo.”

  “Good and we have tons to catch up on, don’t we?”

  “Yeah. What’s a ton?”

  “A whole lot. But first, we need to thank Miss Rita.”

  “Thank you, Miss Rita.”

  “Why, you’re very welcome. Anytime you need a ride, you just call me.”

  I pressed a twenty dollar bill into her palm. “Thank you.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I can’t possibly take this.”

  “I want to … for your trouble.”

  “It was no trouble.”

  “Mommy calls me little trouble sometimes.”

  Rita tickled Montana’s cheek. “I bet she does.” Then she handed me the money back. “Someday, I may need a favor in return.”r />
  “What’s a favor, Mommy?”

  “It’s when someone does something nice for you, like how Rita picked you up today.”

  We watched Rita drive off and then I put Montana into her own car seat, and we headed home.

  “I have a surprise for you,” I said as we walked inside.

  “You do?”

  “Yep.” When we got in the house, I said, “Close your eyes.” I had made some chocolate chip cookies for her. She loved them and I knew she never got them at her dad’s. “Hold out your hand.” I put a cookie in it and when she opened her eyes, I was awarded with the biggest grin ever.

  “Cookies!”

  “Yep. Your favorite. Want a glass of milk?”

  Her smile disappeared. “Will I spoil my dinner?”

  “Maybe. But it’s Friday, so we can let it go this one time.”

  “Daddy might not like it. I’ll just save it for dessert, if that’s okay.” She set it on the table and went into the small den.

  She took a seat on the couch like a prim little princess. This made me worry about what went on over there. Did he ever let her play?

  I sat next to her and pulled her onto my lap. “Do you play a lot at your dad’s?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “What else do you do?”

  “Um, sit in my room.” She stared at the floor as she spoke.

  “What do you do in your room?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Do you draw pictures?”

  “Sometimes.”

  This was disturbing. She was usually talkative, but she was being oddly quiet today.

  “Do you color?” I asked.

  She lifted a shoulder. “Can I watch a movie?”

  Evasion tactics. I was a psychologist but didn’t know how to counsel my own kid. I hugged her to my chest and said, “Sure thing, jelly bean. What do you wanna watch?” I tried to be as jovial as possible, but my heart was breaking.

  I was going to have to come up with something to figure out what was happening to her. If it was nothing, then fine. But I needed to have more time with my daughter. Two weekends a month was not enough. I needed at least fifty percent.

  We ate dinner, which was a pizza, followed by cookies, and when she started to fall asleep, I put her to bed.