Authors: Monique Miller
Redemption Lake (23 page)
Chapter 27
Shelby Tomlinson
Thursday: 11:43
A.M
.
Thursday: 11:43
A.M
.
“Nina, are you okay in there?” George asked. Nina didn't answer immediately. With patience, George, Phillip, and Shelby sat on the twin beds in George and Nina's bedroom. Nina had been in the bathroom for over ten minutes. She'd vomited at least once, but otherwise there wasn't any sound or movement from the other side of the door.
“I'll be out in a minute,” Nina said after a few moments.
Shelby's mind was running a mile a minute, trying to remember what she could about various drugs and their side effects. It was times like these she wished she had the Internet at hand or at least one of her pharmacology books handy. She was 99% sure that the pills in Nina's so called vitamin bottle, were actually valium. They definitely weren't vitamins as George had thought.
The bottle didn't even look like a regular vitamin bottle. It was rigged to look like a vitamin bottle and had an almost real enough looking pharmacy label, but it didn't have a patient number or a prescription number. Shelby had a couple of patients at the hospital where she worked who had gotten addicted to valium. They'd been so hooked that they eventually needed multiple doses each day to prevent heightened withdrawal symptoms. Symptoms much like the ones Nina was currently experiencing: blurred vision, sweating, abdominal pains, and vomiting.
These symptoms were just the tip of the iceberg. Patients who had tried on their own to go cold turkey from the drug often dealt with problems of muscle cramps, tremors, convulsions, diarrhea, and even psychosis. Shelby knew things could deteriorate pretty rapidly if they didn't get to the bottom of what was going on with Nina. She didn't look forward to seeing what the rest of the iceberg was hiding.
Nina emerged from the bathroom, holding her stomach with one hand and the wall with the other. Her skin was pallid, and there were dark circles under her eyes. “Ugh, I feel like a sumo wrestler is twisting my arms and legs from the inside.” She made her way to the twin bed on which George was sitting.
“Do you want to lie down?” George asked.
“No, I've had enough of that. Besides, I might have to jump up and run to the bathroom again. My stomach hurts like crazy,” Nina said.
“Nina, we need to talk,” Shelby said. “I'd really like to give you and George some time to talk alone, but I am afraid time is of the essence.”
Nina's eyes flitted to each person in the room.
Phillip sat next to Shelby. She knew he was confused, but also sensed something wasn't right. He'd been supportive by letting Shelby take the lead and not speaking or questioning any of the instructions she had been dishing out like a commander in an army.
Shelby pulled the bottle of pills from her pocket and held it up for Nina to see. “What can you tell me about these?”
Nina's eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning. “You found my vitamins.” She stood so quick she stumbled, almost falling. With outstretched arms she reached for the bottle.
Shelby gave it to her. With triple the speed she'd had only a few minutes before, Nina headed straight for the bathroom and ran water in a cup. Opening the bottle, she popped a pill into her mouth, then followed it with two cups of water.
George and Phillip watched Nina's movements in awe. Shelby wasn't surprised. The actions further confirmed her suspicions. Nina was addicted.
After wiping the water off her mouth, Nina grabbed her stomach again. “Ugh, I wish this pain would just go away.” With bottle in hand, Nina walked back over to the bed, gingerly sitting back down next to George.
“I am sure the pain will start to subside soon,” Shelby said.
Nina looked down at the bottle in her hand, squeezing it as tight as a child with a security blanket. “I hope so.”
“It will, as long as you're taking those pills. If you go cold turkey, the symptoms will get worse before they can get better,” Shelby said.
Both George and Phillip watched the exchange between Shelby and Nina, neither speaking a word.
“Nina, do you want to tell us about those pills?” Shelby asked.
Nina's voice rose an octave, “They aren't pills, they're vitamins.” As Nina spoke, she looked at George.
George looked over at Shelby, finally speaking, “What's going on here?”
“I have a pretty good idea why Nina's body has been out of whack. But I want to hear it from Nina. And you need to hear it from Nina,” Shelby said.
Phillip placed his hand on Shelby's arm, giving it a squeeze.
“Nina, what is going on? Is there something you need to say?” George asked.
Not speaking, Nina looked down toward the floor. Shelby she saw tears streaming down the woman's face.
George placed his arms around Nina and pulled her into his body. “Don't cry, honey, talk to me. You can talk to me. Whatever it is, we'll get through it.”
Nina began to sob so loud that Shelby figured the sounds permeated the walls of the tiny room. Shelby knew this wasn't the time for Nina or George, for that matter, to worry about who may or may not hear them. Prayerfully, they'd be able to get to the bottom of what was going on so Nina could get the help she needed.
Nina's sobs continued until finally subsiding into intermittent sniffles. Phillip decided to speak. “George, Nina, please know that Shelby and I are here to help you. We're not here to be nosey or judge you. We just want to be of assistance. I don't want to pry, but from what I am gathering here, something isn't right about those vitamins. With God, all things are possible when two or three are gathered in His name, we can pray and touch and agree. But the flesh can be a tricky thing; oftentimes making us forget rational thinking and allowing us give in to temptation. Shelby seems to have insight on what might be going on, but Nina, we need for you to talk to us, to tell us what's going on. It's the only way we can help this battle your flesh is having.”
Nina wiped the tears from her eyes. Shelby realized the darkness under Nina's eyes was mainly from the eyeliner she was wearing. Remnants of the eyeliner streaked hers cheeks and smeared her hands.
“You're right, Shelby, they aren't vitamins. It's actually valium.” Once Nina made her confession, Shelby saw visible relief wash over the woman's face.
“Valium?” George asked.
Nina nodded her head. “I've been taking it for a few months now. I started after I stopped gambling. I was having problems with anxiety and needed something to take the edge off.” Nina stopped and took a deep breath.
Phillip stood, picking up a box of tissue from the nightstand. He handed it to Nina who pulled a few out and wiped her eyes and cheeks.
“I thought I could just stop gambling cold turkey, as Shelby put it, but the urge to gamble kept nagging at me. I found myself getting anxious during the times I would have normally been setting up at the Bingo halls. I even got to the point where I couldn't stand going into gas stations that sold lottery tickets and scratch offs.
“I talked to one of my friends about anxiety and the nervousness I was experiencing. She told me about the valium. Her doctor prescribed a few pills for me. I felt a calm I hadn't known since before the gambling got so bad,” Nina said.
“Who told you about the pills? What friend?” George asked with an accusing voice.
“It doesn't really matter. My friend didn't know anything about me going back to the doctor a few more times, and the doctor didn't know that I altered the prescription he had given me in order to get more and more pills.”
Shelby listened as Nina continued recapping her story. She'd wanted to stop being dependent on the drug, but didn't know how. She'd been praying for God to intervene, knowing there was no way she'd be able to do it on her own. Nina continued telling her story until she'd brought them all up to the present moment. When she finished, she hung her head down low in shame.
George slid off the bed and kneeled directly in front of Nina. With hands cupping her cheeks, he said, “Nina, I said we'd get through it. And we will.”
Nina shook her head. “How can you say that? And how can you continue to stand by me with all the baggage I brought into this marriage and the baggage I continue to claim?”
“When I said for better or for worse, I meant it. This is only a stormâa storm we'll get through together.”
Shelby reached for Phillip's hand. As if knowing what she was about to do, Phillip stood at the same time as she did.
“Nina, George, we're going to leave so you can talk in privacy,” Shelby said.
George stood. “Hold on a second before you both go.” George placed his hand on Nina's shoulder. “The devil is trying to destroy my wife. He has come this time in the name of valium. Phillip, can you pray with us?”
Phillip nodded his head. Shelby continued to hold his left hand, with his right hand, he reached out to George. Shelby placed her hand on Nina's shoulder as Nina continued to sit on the bed with her head bowed.
Once the circle was formed, Phillip began to pray. “Dear Lord, our Father in heaven. Jesus, we come to you as humbly as we know how, forming this gathering of four, we are touching and agreeing that no weapon, called valium, formed against Nina will prosper. We pray that you, Lord, will guide Nina in the path she will need to travel in order to overcome this drug that has been trying to thrive in her body. We rebuke this drug demon.
“We also pray that you will bless this marriage between George and Nina. And that you will let them know at a time of your choosing, the exact reasons they are going through these storms in their lives. Lord, we pray you'll give Nina strength and that you will continue to give George wisdom. And together they will come out stronger than they were before. We pray this in Jesus' name. Amen.”
“Amen,” George and Nina said.
“Amen,” Shelby said. She'd heard Phillip pray many times, but was still amazed by some of the powerful prayers he pulled from his soul. She squeezed his hand. Then letting go, she gave both Nina and George a hug.
With glassy eyes, George said to Phillip, “Thanks, my brother.” His voice was raspy and strained. He gave Phillip a solid hug.
“No problem. We're here for you both, and don't you ever forget it,” Phillip said.
Shelby nodded in agreement. “Nina, we'll talk a little later on about the pills. You aren't going to be able to go cold turkey right now. Honestly, you'll probably have to keep taking them just as you have until you can get back to the doctor. Then you can be weaned off properly.”
Nina nodded her head, still clutching the bottle.
“Baby, I am so sorry I hid those pills from you. I didn't know what they were,” George said.
“No, you didn't know what they were, but if you hadn't hid them, who knows how much longer I would have lived the lie?” Nina said. “Everything happens for a reason.”
“We'll talk later,” Shelby said, then Phillip led their way out of the room.
Upon walking into the kitchen, Shelby saw the other two couples seated at the table eating sandwiches and chips. She'd totally forgotten about lunch.
“Oh, who made lunch?” Shelby asked.
“Charlotte and I,” Beryl said.
“Thanks, ladies. I hadn't even thought about it,” Shelby said.
“No problem. We've all got to help each other out up in these mountains. Besides, you've been slaving over the stove the whole time we've been here. You probably need a break yourself,” Charlotte said.
Shelby took a seat at the table. “These sandwiches look good.” She picked up a plate and stacked it with three different sandwiches and a pile of chips.
Phillip's eyebrows arched. “Pretty hungry, huh?”
“I am, but these aren't for me. I'm going to take this plate to George and Nina,” Shelby said.
Phillip chuckled. “Good, I was getting worried.”
“Honey, can you pour some ginger ale for them?” Shelby asked her husband.
Phillip did as requested, and they both took the food and drinks to George and Nina. Afterward, they rejoined the other two couples who were talking quietly amongst themselves at the table.
It had taken over three days, but Shelby finally felt some sense of community she'd experienced just a few short years prior, when she and Phillip first came to the Lake Turner retreat. One couple was well on their way to recovery. With one couple down, there were two more to go.
Chapter 28
Beryl Highgate
Thursday: 4:36
P.M
.
Thursday: 4:36
P.M
.
Beryl sat alone at The Round Table, tapping her pencil on the memo pad that lay in front of her. At the top of the sheet of paper she had written: THINGS TO DO. Then she numbered the paper from one to ten, leaving two lines between each number. If she were going to be serious about making changes at home and in her life, she'd have to have a plan.
Try as she might to come up with a list of things to do, the only thing that kept coming to mind was how Nina was doing and what had gone on behind the closed doors in their room a few short hours prior. Beryl couldn't forget the shift in Shelby's demeanor as she opened the bottle of vitamins and peered in. Nor could she mistake the urgency in Shelby's voice as she tried to get Nina back to her bedroom. Beryl had the distinct feeling that if the rest of them hadn't been in the living room, Shelby would have said a whole lot more.
Phillip and Shelby had emerged from the room with poker faces. They weren't giving any clues about what had gone on. Nina's wailing, which had filtered through the walls, let Beryl know they hadn't been socializing. She wondered what the exact issues were with Nina and George. They all had so many different issues coming into that house.
Beryl knew not to judge other people's situations, especially when most didn't know what they would do in someone else's shoes. But with Xavier and Charlotte's situation, she didn't think she would have put up with her husband messing around on her. In her eyes, his actions would have been a cause for immediate dismissal. But then again, another woman may not put up with the problems she was having with Travis.
The things that Travis did weren't so easy to pinpoint. Like his not being able to keep a job or his not helping around the house. There were times, especially when Beryl felt she was at her wits end, that he'd pitch in without her saying a word. She almost felt like he was gauging her to see just how far he could push and wasn't going to do much more than he absolutely had to.
Beryl truly believed Travis wasn't just lazy but also selfish. He had to be selfish. How else could he be so lazy knowing he had a wife and two kids that needed to be cared for and protected?
Beryl looked down at the sheet of paper in front of her. She didn't have any time to dwell on Nina and George's problems. Besides, it looked as if whatever was going on with them was being addressed. And in Xavier's case, at least he acknowledged the accusations Charlotte had hit him with. There wasn't much dialogue between the two of them, but at least there was a little, which was a start. But when it came to her situation with Travis, it seemed like it was a lost cause. He was in avoidance modeâavoiding the issues of work and responsibility.
The first thing Beryl wrote on her list was that Travis would have to move out. There was no reason for her to move since she would be the one taking care of the children. She could see Travis trying to argue this with her, probably telling her that she should move out since she was the one who wanted it so bad. He might even try to say that he could take care of the children. But Beryl knew Travis could barely take care of himself, much less two children. She wasn't just thinking of the children's financial needs, but their safety also.
Beryl shook her head, remembering the time Travis had come in one night after taking the kids to the park. It was late fall, a time when it got dark before seven at night. Both children had fallen asleep in the backseat of their car. Beryl had seen him take her oldest son to the bedroom to lay him down and assumed he had taken the youngest one also. But two hours later, Beryl heard her baby boy crying. When she looked into the bedroom to check on him, he wasn't there.
Frantically, she listened for the baby's screaming. Beryl started yelling, asking Travis, who was sitting in front of the television, if he knew where her baby was. Travis's face was blank as he shook his head.
Beryl had found her little boy still strapped in his car seat, terrified and screaming. Travis had not only left the boy in the garage, he had also left the garage door up and the door leading into the house wide open. She had been horrified.
That very night she could have strangled Travis. He'd tried to apologize, saying that he'd laid their older son down and remembered having to go to the bathroom. He said he figured she'd taken the baby out of the car.
Again, Travis had an excuse to try to explain his actions. But she hadn't wanted to hear a thing he had to say. And she was too tired to go through the whole gamut of checks and balances. She hadn't felt like checking him on the very simple fact that he'd forgotten the boy while focusing on a rerun of some stupid television show.
Beryl shook her head, still upset about the whole matter. She placed a star next to the first item on her things to do list. Yes, Travis had to go.
Next, she wrote that she'd need to get a lawyer. She'd also needed to start thinking about who would care for the children while she was at work, especially when there was a school release and the daycare was closed. Travis usually took care of them since he wasn't working anyway, but after she kicked him out, Beryl didn't have any disillusions that it would be a while before he'd be able to find stable housing. More than likely, he'd end up going to one of his sisters' houses, telling them some sort of pitiful story about how Beryl had kicked him out of the house. They would believe the story and welcome him with loving arms.
It burned Beryl up to think about how much his sisters treated him like a baby. It was true that he was their baby brother, and they had taken on the role of surrogate mothers to him when their own mother died. But for God's sake, someone should have taught him that at some point he'd have to man up and take care of himself, and maybe even a family one day.
The grandfather clock in the living room chimed, as if reminding Beryl that she didn't have the time or luxury to reminisce about displeasing thoughts. Kicking Travis out of the house was going to be easier said than done because it wasn't like as soon as he was gone, all would be right with the world.
It was probably going to be a lot harder than she thought. One of her co-workers, Janice, had left her husband and taken their little girl with her. It hadn't been easy for Janice at all. The woman hadn't factored in how the child would be affected by the separation. Janice confided that every night, for almost three months, the little girl cried for her father; especially at bedtime.
The father and daughter had a nightly ritual in which he said prayers with her, tucked her in, and read her a bedtime story. Janice never seemed to say the prayers right, didn't tuck the covers the right way, and didn't read the stories like the child's father had.
There were many days Janice came to Beryl's desk with bags under her eyes and tears trickling down her face. Beryl hadn't pried into the reason Janice had decided to leave her husband, but in all the woman's complaints about sleepless nights, not once had she said anything about considering to go back home.
Beryl would have to think about how it all might affect her boys. They loved their father, who played with them often, acting more like a loving, playful big brother. Wishful thoughts flooded Beryl's mind as she held the pencil in her hands, pressing it with so much tension that she heard it cracking under the pressure. Why couldn't Travis just find and keep a good job with a few benefits? It wasn't like she was asking him to find a job making six-figures; she just wanted a real helpmate. She wasn't asking for much, and what she was asking for was something that most married couples understood as a normal part of being in a functional relationship. Why did it seem so hard for her husband to grasp this concept?
Why couldn't Travis stop watching so much television and help around the house moreâdo more with her and the kids as a family? Beryl couldn't remember the last time they all went on a family vacation.
Beryl was tired of giving Travis second chances and turning the other cheek. She had turned the other cheek so many times that her neck literally hurt. This retreat felt like her last resort. But deep down she still held hope that he could somehow get it together and do what a man was supposed to do in a marriage.
She believed miracles could happen and held hope that maybe within the next couple of days, Travis would finally get the clues he needed to what their marriage really lacked. Beryl tore the sheet of paper off of the pad and balled it up. It wouldn't be over until it was over, and who was she to call it completely quits now? Travis still had a couple of days to figure things out. That would be Beryl's determining factor.
As if in answer to her hopes, Travis entered the room with two bowls of ice cream in hand. “I brought you something.”
Beryl smiled. One thing they did agree on was ice cream. They both loved it, and in the early days of dating, they often went to local ice cream shops, comparing different flavors. One thing that was always a staple in their freezer was ice cream.
“What kind is it?” Beryl asked.
Travis took the seat next to her. “Butter pecan.”
“Um, my favorite. You sure do know the way to a girl's heart.”
Travis smiled, a look of pride covering his face.
Beryl took a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. It was sweet and creamy, and chocked full of pecans. “Oh, my goodness. This is some of the best I've tasted in a while.”
Travis spooned some into his mouth. “It is, isn't it?”
Beryl took another spoonful, enjoying the buttery taste and the large pieces of pecans.
“And I think I've figured out Shelby's little cooking secret,” Travis said.
Beryl's ears perked up. “What is it?”
Travis ate a little more and winked. “The information will cost you.”
With all seriousness, Beryl said, “This trip is already costing me.”
Travis put his hand up in surrender. “Okay, okay, you're right. I can give you the information gratis.” He spooned another bite of ice cream.
Beryl couldn't help it, she did the same.
“This is that Beans ice cream,” Travis said.
“Beans?” Beryl asked.
“Yeah, Beans. You know that company with the refrigerated trucks who will deliver food to your house.”
Beryl had seen Beans trucks. There was a guy from Beans who came every other Thursday to their job, delivering to some of her co-workers. Every so often he gave them updated catalogues filled with tasty looking prepackaged foods with various entrees and meal ideas.
Beryl had been tempted to buy a few things until she saw the cost of the food. They weren't cheap. She figured the price made up for the time she'd have to spend in the kitchen preparing the same meals. But as she analyzed it, the amounts weren't large enough, and she wouldn't have leftovers to carry over for the next day. With the way she'd had to budget her money, Beryl had to figure out ways to stretch a dollar as far as possible.
“That deep freezer in the back is full of Beans foods and entrees,” Travis said.
“Wow, I was wondering why Shelby never seemed to slave over the stove. It was like she'd be in here with us during the sessions, and then within a blink of the eye, she had our meals cooked and ready to serve.” Beryl chuckled. “I thought she might be an undercover Iron Chef that no one had heard about in America yet.” Beryl said this, thinking about the one cooking show she did like to watch on cable before she had it disconnected.
“Now we know,” Travis said.
“I've been eating Beans food all week. Well, I'll be darned. I can't wait to get back and tell my co-workers. They'll get a kick out of it,” Beryl said.
“I'm glad you mentioned us getting back,” Travis said.
Beryl stopped eating and held her breath.
“I've been doing a lot of thinking about what you've been saying about me getting a job. There are a few places I'm going to call as soon as I get back to the house. I saw them in the paper and circled the advertisements. I meant to call before I left, but with packing and all, I didn't get a chance to,” Travis said.
Slowly, Beryl released her breath.
“I have an idea.” Travis held up his hand. “And give me a chance to finish before you stop me.”
Beryl sat, not saying a word.
“Okay, while I am looking for a job, maybe I can start taking some classes online. I checked in to a few online colleges. I can work on completing my degree in general studies.” His facial expression was serious and to anyone else his voice would have sounded rational.
“Are you serious?” Beryl asked.
“Yeah, with the job market being so shaky, I'm going to need a better education to compete with the other guys.”
Beryl couldn't believe her ears. The man couldn't have just said that he wanted suck more money out of her to take some online college courses. Travis must have completely lost his mind. He didn't have the discipline to look for a job in the newspaper, much less to take intense online courses. And what the heck did he think he was going to do with a general studies degree anyway?
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