Audrey questioned me when I insisted on driving separately, but there’s no way I could keep it together for the entire car ride. So I made up a lie about checking in with my patients. It would be unethical for her to hear the conversations, so she grudgingly relented. Instead of calling patients, I give myself the hour to feel the loss. An hour isn’t nearly long enough to deal with my feelings for Cain Bennett or the fact that we’re over.
As soon as I park the car and step out into the parking lot, she’s at my side, arm looped through mine.
“It feels so good to be back home. I missed you so much, Cece!”
I pat her hand and smile. “I’ve missed you, too, Audrey. You’re not allowed to go away for that long again; I don’t care what your boss says.”
I’m going for cheerful, and I hope I’m pulling it off. I guess I do a fair job, because Audrey seems unfazed as she skips forward. When we walk inside, I turn to her and smile.
“Give me about fifteen minutes alone?”
She tilts her head to the side and nods knowingly. Unfortunately, we both know all too well how this goes. Two months have passed since we’ve stood in this room, but together we’ve made this trek countless times.
I go through the motions, the same as every time before, but I’ve never felt so numb. I’ve never been so hopeless.
I make my way into the room and sit down, but I go unnoticed. I’m invisible, and I use this time to watch. Muttered words, twitching feet, raised scars, and frantic eyes assault me, as always. I reach out and remove the marker from his fingers. I slide my hand into his, and only then does he look up and acknowledge me, if only for a brief second. That’s all I get these days.
“Hello, Lucas.”
He removes his hand from my grasp and reaches for the marker. He continues writing figures, drawing symbols, and computing numbers without ever meeting my eyes. I know what he’ll say. It’s the same seven words every time, without fail.
His fingers stop moving, his eyes close, and he whispers, “Are you going to keep your promise?”
Audrey slides her fork into the whipped cream, through the chocolate filling, and stabs into the buttery crust. She slowly chews the bite, moaning and closing her eyes.
“Oh my gosh,” she says, covering her mouth. “I think I just had a piegasm. You’re gonna regret not getting a piece. Seriously, the coconut cream pie looks like heaven. Who knows, I may even steal a bite.” She winks at me and goes in for another bite.
Ruby’s Pie House is as much a part of our weekly ritual as our visits to Lucas. We always make sure to stop in for a slice of heaven on our way back home. Ruby is known statewide for her pies, and I’ve been known to eat two pieces. They are that good. I’m just not feeling it today. My stomach is heavy, and I have a feeling a dose of sugar would only make it churn angrily.
“I’m not very hungry today. Next time,” I say with a tiny smile.
“What in the hell does hungry have to do with it? This shit is pure gluttony.” Audrey chews slowly, watching me like a science experiment, waiting for the inevitable chemical reaction. I’m trying my hardest not to give it to her. “Lucas looked well today. He seems to be improving, don’t you think?”
I press my lips together and give her a quick nod. Audrey is an eternal optimist where Lucas is concerned. Unfortunately, she wears a heavily tinted pair of rose-colored glasses. She sees only what she wants to see.
Her fork clanks onto her plate, and she crosses her arms. “You don’t agree with me.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t.” Before I finish the sentence, she’s shaking her head and rolling her eyes. “I’m sorry, Audrey, but he’s not.”
“He was much calmer today.”
“He spent the entire visit looking over my shoulder. He focused on his hallucinations, not you and me. That’s why he seemed calm. He was distracted.” I hate to argue with Audrey, but sometimes I get tired of pretending.
“He looked clean and well dressed.”
“That’s because it’s Saturday. He agrees to take one shower a week and it happens to be on Friday. We usually visit during the week, so he looks more disheveled.”
I see her irritation rising with every word, but if I have to live in reality, so does she. I’m tired of holding her hand.
“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?”
“No, Audrey, I most certainly don’t. I’m only telling you what I see. And even if you don’t want to hear it, I’m going to tell you what I know.” She pushes her chair away from the table. I grab her hand before she can stand. “Nothing will change without incentive. With no light at the end of the tunnel, he will continue to refuse to cooperate. You need to speak with your parents again.”
Audrey throws her hands in the air. “Yes, that’s exactly what I need to do. Bang my head up against the wall for the hundredth time.”
Lucas’s parents hold all the cards. After his third suicide attempt, a bottle full of prescription pills shoved down his throat, they obtained a judicial commitment that remains in place to this day. Lucas’s refusal to cooperate with his treatment only adds fuel to the fire, and the courts have extended the commitment time after time.
“They can’t continue to bury their heads in the sand while Lucas rots in that hospital,” I whisper forcefully. I squeeze the bridge of my nose in an attempt to push back the headache pulsing behind my eyes. “He needs a gesture, Aud. It doesn’t have to be huge, but he needs something. Maybe a day pass home if he takes his meds and attends therapy sessions for two weeks.”
“It won’t work. They never listen to a word I say. It only makes them dig their feet in deeper.”
She doesn’t see it this way, but watching her cross her arms and shake her head shows me they’re not the only ones who aren’t listening. Maybe it’s time for a different approach.
“Fine,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders. “I’ll talk to them. I’ll make the trip tomorrow, and I won’t leave until they hear me out.”
“Have you lost your mind? You can’t do that!”
“What choice do I have?”
Audrey places her hand on the table and leads toward me with pleading eyes. “If you think they’ll listen to a word you say, you’re wrong.” Her eyes fill with tears. “They’ll deny you visitation again, Cece. Sometimes I feel like they’re looking for a reason to do just that. Please don’t give them one. Where do you think Lucas would be then?”
The fear settles in my gut, and I close my eyes. I know she’s right. My relationship with the Landrys is tenuous at best. They tolerate my presence in Lucas’s life, but just barely.
After his suicide attempt that night so long ago, I had no choice but to break my promise to him. I told Mrs. Cindy and Mr. Gene everything, including his first suicide attempt the night of Grams’s funeral. My confessions opened the floodgates to a thousand questions.
How long have you known about this?
Why didn’t you tell anyone?
How could you think you were qualified to handle him?
What else have you kept from us?
I kept looking to Mrs. Cindy, waiting for her to speak up on my behalf and admit I tried to warn her. I felt sure she would defend me or at least show me some understanding.
She never said a word.
That was the day I lost the only parental figures I had left. They blamed me for what happened, and I couldn’t much argue with them. Not only did I make the worst decision of my life, I continued to make it over and over again, day after day. I made the conscious decision to keep Lucas’s secret—it wasn’t a quick decision made in the heat of the moment. It was an irresponsible choice made by a stupid girl, and Lucas paid the ultimate price.