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Authors: Catherine Lanigan

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BOOK: Sophie's Path
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“Every case is unique. Jeremy Hawthorne is originally from Phoenix. Hitchhiked to Indiana last year. He told me he plays trumpet, or did in high school, but he sold his instrument to buy drugs. He's worked odd jobs from town to town. That's all I know.”

Sophie felt her heart grow heavy just listening to Eleanor.

“I'll try, but I have to ask—why me? I'm not trained—”

Eleanor cut her off. “Because you have a gift for helping others that comes from someplace deep inside you, Sophie,” Eleanor said. “I can see why you chose nursing. You were born to do it. I'm guessing you've never harmed a soul in your life. Human or animal.”

Sophie struggled not to show the raw emotion coursing through her. All her life, she had wanted to help. From the stray cats, wounded birds and lost fawns she'd nursed as a child on the farm to the first patient she'd ever tended, Sophie remembered all of them. Maybe not all their names, but their faces. Their eyes. Their deep need for relief and their abounding gratitude when she sutured, bandaged and eased their pain with drugs.

Patients like Jack. He'd held her hand so tightly when he was delusional right after the accident. His concussion had caused him to be disoriented. She'd seen that look in other patients—some when they'd been in hospice, dying. Jack had looked at her like she was the world. Or the next world.

With a shock, Sophie realized she wanted to see that penetrating gaze of surrender, gratitude and hope in Jack's eyes again. She wanted to be a safe harbor for him.

Not once with a man had Sophie ever seen anything but desire or conquest. Men had been pastimes. Not people.

Jack was different. She'd seen what she could be to a man—to Jack—and that wanting tugged on her head and her heart. It didn't weigh her down or threaten to drown her. Instead, it was a tether to a hot air balloon that could take her far away, to worlds she'd never dared dream of.

Jack could take her to a place where she might find her value as a woman to be loved.

As the idea settled on her shoulders like a gossamer shawl, Sophie shivered. She shook off the foreign feeling.

What was she thinking? Talk about delusional. In a minute, she'd be the one Eleanor thought was the addict. Thinking nonsense. Daydreaming of impossibilities. Acting like Alice in Wonderland. She needed to stay on track. Sophie was all about helping others. Not herself.

“You're right. I'm at my best when I'm helping. When can I meet Jeremy?”

Eleanor smiled widely and rose to give Sophie a hug. “Is tomorrow too soon?”

CHAPTER TEN

S
OPHIE
FIDGETED
UNCOMFORTABLY
as she sat in a booth at the crumbling, seventy-year-old Road House Café on the outskirts of town. She'd lived in Indian Lake almost her whole life and had never been to the place. She remembered her mother describing the inedible food and her father grumbling that the building wasn't safe. Her grandmother told her the ramshackle café had been on the edge of demolition in the 1930s. It still stood. The screen door had banged when she walked in and Sophie had feared the clapboard walls would disintegrate from the vibration. There was an old Coca-Cola cooler outside the front door that still held bottles of soft drinks and beer. Freezing water swirled around them.

Inside, half the bar stools were gone completely. Three aging bikers stood at the bar talking and drinking coffee from thick china coffee mugs.

There were about a dozen booths along a wall of greasy, dirty windows for patrons to see across the farmland. Sophie wondered why the owner didn't just pull down the blinds if no one was going to wash the glass. Though from the look of the wood floor with clumps of dirt kicked under the stools and the torn Naugahyde covering on the seats, no one here was too concerned about appearances or improvements.

The Road House Café had been Jeremy's choice of a place to meet. She'd suggested Lou's Diner, which was close to the hospital, or even the Indian Lake Deli, but he'd nearly hung up the phone.

“Forget it,” he'd grumbled arrogantly.

She hadn't even met him face-to-face and he was brushing her off. Discarding any chance for recovery. Refusing help.

Maybe that was the problem. He didn't want to feel like a charity case. She'd have to watch that she didn't demean him in any way.

She rubbed her arms as she propped her elbows on the tabletop. The silver flecks in the gray, white and pink-veined Formica had faded and the surface felt sticky. She pulled a thin paper napkin from the metal dispenser, stuck the end in her glass of water and wiped the surface under her elbows.

A roar of motorcycle engines filled the late afternoon air, turning Sophie's attention away from the collage of antique ice-cream posters, which she was certain were not cherished collectibles but simply tacked up over the years from vendors passing through. Eventually, they probably covered rot, holes and broken paneling.

Eight guys, ranging from midtwenties to midseventies, parked their bikes out front, taking up all the room next to her car. Most wore leather vests, no shirts, boots with studs and stainless steel chains hanging from their necks, wrists and waistbands. Two were bald. The rest wore long hair tied with leather or bandanas. They were trying to seem rough. They succeeded.

Last off one of the bikes and seated behind the biggest, burliest and ugliest of the bunch was a thin young man, wearing torn jeans, a worn and stained black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up. He had a backpack with a fading Giants logo emblazoned across it.

Sophie guessed this was Jeremy as the younger man hung back, assessing the diner as if unsure about entering.

Even from this distance, she saw eyes filled with despair. There was no life in his face. Not even the ghost of a smile. She couldn't help wondering if he'd ever smiled.

Who had this boy been before the drugs? Something told her that was exactly what she had to find out in order to help him. Backward in order to move forward.

He was still hesitating, looking at the bikes as if he longed to jump on one and ride away. But to where? His addiction would go with him wherever he went.

On instinct, Sophie rose, left the booth and circled around the group of bikers who, ordinarily, would have intimidated her. She almost didn't see them, she was so concentrated on Jeremy.

She glanced out the window. He'd pulled his hoodie farther over his face and turned his back on the diner.

She went to the door and pushed the screen open. “Jeremy?”

He looked up, dark hollow eyes peering out from deep inside his hood.

Silence.

“Jeremy. It's me, Sophie. Don't leave.”

“You're pretty.” He stood still, not shifting an inch. Still judging her, but not seeking an escape route, either.

“Thank you,” she replied, stepping out onto the rickety porch. She inched forward as if she were approaching a wild animal in a trap. He was terrified. And in pain.

Sophie guessed that he'd agreed to meet her because the ugly truth was that he had no place else to go.

She gestured toward the array of motorcycles. “Friends of yours?”

He shook his head. “I hitched.”

“Are they your dealers?”

Jeremy nearly smiled. Nearly. “No. They said they were accountants from Chicago. They come to Indiana on the weekends and pretend they have a second life. Stupid, huh? What's wrong with their first life?”

“You're right. In the end, we all have only one life, but there's nothing wrong with wearing costumes and experiencing all kinds of adventures.”

“I like adventure. Thrills. That's my problem.”

She walked closer. “No, Jeremy. You like drugs. There's no adventure in drugs. Just imprisonment.”

Sophie spotted an old picnic table under a spreading oak tree. A tire hung from a rope tied to a low limb. She hadn't seen a swing like that in years. Not since she'd been a kid herself and played with the Johnson kids at their farm down the road. She'd been lucky. She'd had a normal upbringing.

The older she got, the more she realized how lucky she was to have grown up with two loving parents, a roof over her head, food to eat and an education.

“Let's sit over there at the picnic table. Unless you'd rather go inside. I'll buy you lunch.”

“Maybe later. I'm not hungry.”

She eyed him carefully. She would guess he hadn't eaten in days. “Suit yourself.” She walked toward the table, letting him follow. She didn't want him to think she didn't trust him. That's what this was right now—a dance of trust.

She sat down at the end and motioned to the space beside her.

He sauntered, barely picking up his feet. His sneakers looked like he'd walked from Arizona. She knew he had access to newer, cleaner clothes through donations from several agencies in Indian Lake, including Recovery Alliance. He had not availed himself of those services. She wondered why.

He stared at her but didn't start the conversation. His frame was even thinner than she'd earlier suspected. She guessed he was still using.

Sophie realized she had one shot with this guy and if she blew it, she'd never see him again. She had to be careful and effective.

“I'm surprised you agreed to meet me.” She gestured at his sweatshirt. “You don't take charity from anyone, do you? Otherwise, you'd have better clothes and you'd be eating more.”

“I eat,” he snipped.

“Yeah?” She reached over and yanked his hood down.

His blond hair was patchy with short clumps that stuck up in unwashed stacks.

“I'm a nurse, Jeremy. Your skin is pasty under all that dust and dirt. Your eyes show early signs of liver failure, probably from too much alcohol. Your teeth are cracked and several are missing. That tells me that you've done a lot of crystal meth. There's not much you can say or do that will fool me. If that's what you're all about, then this meeting is over.”

She started to rise and he grabbed the edge of her sleeve.

“You're right,” Jeremy said. “Please, sit down.”

Sophie sat. And waited. It was his turn.

He kicked the ground, then stuck his hands in his sweatshirt pocket. “That's the part I hate the most about being me. My life.”

“What's that?”

“The lying. I've been doing it since I was a kid. Born to it, I guess.”

“I don't believe that. You learned it. But why?”

He shrugged his bony shoulders. “Trying to get attention from my parents, I guess. They were always too busy. They both worked. Professionals. Dad was an architect. Mom was an attorney. He was chasing down clients or dreaming up some new skyscraper that would rock the world with his genius. Mom worked eighty hours a week trying to make partner. There was no time for me,” he said morosely.

Sophie winced. Though she didn't have a husband or child, she was doing just what Jeremy complained about. She overscheduled, overpromised, overinvolved herself. She wanted to help him, but clearly, he needed attention. A lot of it. Could she truly be valuable to him?

“Do you have brothers or sisters?” she asked.

“No, just me.” He heaved a sigh. “That's a good thing. They didn't have the chance to mess with another kid's life,” he spat out.

“You're very angry with them, aren't you?”

“I shouldn't be. You know, they spent over four hundred grand on rehab for me.”

Sophie's eyes widened in surprise. “I didn't know. I thought you were in this all alone.”

“I am now. They finally threw up their hands after fourteen stints in treatment. But I kept using. I learned more about drugs, how to buy them, use them, how to cheat on my drug tests. Even if you're on parole, you can time it so that your officer will never catch you. It's all a game.”

“The chasing?”

“Yeah. The chasing is a game.”

“But in the end, you're the one who loses. You've already lost your family. They're all the way in Arizona and here you are in this little town in Indiana talking to a total stranger. Is that how you see your life? Constantly moving?”

He shook his head and his hair moved stiffly. “My life? Every shrink and counselor I've talked to in every rehab center has preached to me about how I need to value my life. Well, I don't. Miss Mattuchi...”

“Sophie,” she corrected.

“Sophie. I only wanted to see you because I liked the sound of your voice on the phone.”

“Really? That's it?”

“It was enough,” he replied with a faint smile creeping across his face. He put his hands on his knees and stared at them. “Look, Sophie, I don't expect anything. I don't care about anything. I went to the Recovery Alliance because I was walking through town and saw the sign. I was curious. Usually, places like that have free snacks. You know, tea, coffee and cookies. When I got there that day, there was so much food. It reminded me of one of my mom's parties for clients.”

Sophie nodded. That must have been the day of the open house. “I was there that day.”

“I waited till all the normal people had left.”

“You consider me ‘normal'?”

“Yeah. You know. Not a user. Like my parents.”

She folded her arms. “I don't know your parents and I've never been married or had kids. So don't compare me to them. That's not fair. Lumping me in with everyone else you're angry with. Tell me, Jeremy, what did you expect from our meeting today aside from staring at my...
pretty
face?”

His eyes drifted to the horizon as if there was something there.

“I hung out with Eleanor a long time. She arranged for a place for me to stay with the Salvation Army. They feed me, too. She convinced me to join one of her counseling groups. It was actually pretty good.”

“Why's that?”

“It was just me and the counselor. Henry was his name. Volunteer. Didn't take notes or make me feel more ashamed than I already do.”

“And do you feel ashamed?”

“I do. I'm sorry I hurt my mom and dad.”

“But you're still mad at them.”

He nodded. “They wanted everything in the world, but not me.”

“So you felt abandoned.”

He jerked his head toward her and their eyes locked. She could see he'd just had a revelation. “I...never thought of it that way.”

She continued, “Like an orphan. You felt no different than a baby who'd been tossed in the trash. And that's what you're doing with your life. Staying on the move. Going from drug house to shelters to the next drug house. So you live the life of an orphan. No family to report to or be responsible for. And you believe no one wants to find you. But there's something wrong with your scenario.”

“Wrong with it? It's all wrong. I'm as messed up as anyone can get.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” she countered. “I'm betting your parents do want to know where you are. What you're doing.”

He waved his hand, as if to deflect her comment. “So, what's in it for you? You get your rocks off saving people? Is that it?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Figures I'd get the Nurse Nancy type.” He paused. “Why exactly do you think I'm worth saving, Sophie?”

She studied the razor-sharp planes of his face. There was a trace of innocence, like a small child in need, and yet his eyes were filled with the look of someone who'd seen too much. He roamed the earth with one foot on solid ground and the other stuck in a narcotic dream. His alienation and loneliness struck the deepest part of her heart. No one should ever feel that alone.

She sensed he was reaching out for help. The fact that he'd lingered in Indian Lake since the open house told her something. Perhaps Eleanor's easy and caring ways had won him over. Maybe it was the slow pace of the town. It could be one of a dozen things, but the point was he was there with her now.

“All human life is valuable, Jeremy.”

“Cut the platitudes. I'm as worthless as they come,” he ground out. He leaned forward, hunching his shoulders, and as he did, something in his backpack moved.

“What was that?” Sophie asked, pointing to the jostling canvas bag.

Jeremy shucked the shoulder straps off and pulled the backpack around to his lap. “This is part of the reason I wanted to meet with you today. You sounded nice on the phone. Really nice. Considerate. Like you were a kind person. A person who would help me.”

She nodded. “That's my hope. Yes.” She stared at the backpack.

BOOK: Sophie's Path
2.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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