The Harem (24 page)

“Well… Yes, Jeremy… If you wish to make a contribution, that’s something I’m sure we can discuss. And please use my phone to call your mother. Just hit 9 to get an outside line. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear from you.”

Jeremy dialed the number and smiled at me. I couldn’t help but smile back. Dr. Billingsley looked up at me, impressed.

“You’ve done more here with Jeremy in two days than my entire staff was able to accomplish in a month. It’s remarkable, Dr. Bishon. Keep up the good work.”

“Thank you, Dr. Billingsley,” I said, feeling guilty about taking all the credit for Jeremy’s recovery, when he wasn’t too sick to begin with.

It occurred to me Jeremy was only doing this to get Dr. Billingsley to be impressed with me and it worked. I also knew at that moment, despite our Doctor/Patient relationship… I realized I liked Jeremy. He is a sweet man. Of course, given my position, I’ll never be able to act upon my feelings with him, ever. I listened in on his side of the conversation with his Mother.

“Hey, Mom, guess who? It’s your crazy son! Hi! Yes, I’m fine. I’m perfectly well, Mom. I’ve gotten some great care here and I’m looking forward to coming home. I’d like to spend Thanksgiving with you, if the doctors here feel I’m ready to leave. I want to apologize to you, Mom. I know I embarrassed you after the funeral at the house in front of all of your friends. I was just so mad that Dad didn’t tell me about his heart condition and that he was out in the yard physically exerting himself when I should’ve been the one out there doing the yard work. I can’t explain it, Mom, I just wanted to destroy that old rusted red mower, rip it to pieces with my bare hands. So I lost control, cut myself. I know… I know now that it wasn’t my fault… Don’t feel guilty, Mom. No, Mom… No, it wasn’t your fault either. It was just his time to go. I know. I wish I would’ve been there too… Mom… Mom, don’t start crying now. Come on, Mom…”

Dr. Billingsley gave Jeremy a box of tissues as tears leaked out and dripped down Jeremy’s cheeks.

“Ah, Mom, I wish I was there to give you a big hug. I’ll be there soon. Stop crying now or you’ll make me cry and they’ll keep me locked up here longer. Come on, Mom, no more tears. I’m on Dr. Billingsley’s private phone so I should probably go. OK, I love you too. Before you go, I wanted to give a donation to Potomac Fields in memory of Dad. Around $100,000. It’s a good cause. Are you OK with that, Mom? Through our charitable foundation? OK… You’ll work out the details with our accountant? Sure. OK. Love you too. See you soon. Bye… That felt good to talk to her, thanks, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome, Jeremy. Now that I see you conversing coherently, expressing your emotions, making eye contact, let’s reevaluate things; say on Thursday, shall we? I’ll meet with the team and see if there’s anything more we can do for you here, or if you can be released.”

“OK. I feel a little guilty taking up a bed when there are more serious cases coming in. I heard some crying in the ward last night.”

“Yes, we had a few admissions. Well, I suppose Dr. Bichon and I should join the others rounding, unless there’s anything else.”

“Well, yes, there is one thing. At the session today, if you don’t mind, Doctor, I’d like to say a few words to the three other members of our group. I feel like I’ve kind of blocked them out emotionally up until now, and I wanted to look them in the eyes and speak with each one, in a supervised setting. I assure you what I say will be appropriate and positive. Hopefully my words of support will leave all three feeling good and with greater hope about the process of their recoveries.”

“I don’t see why not? Dr. Bichon?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” I said.

“OK then. We’ll see you after lunch at 2, Jeremy. Again, I can’t express how happy I am for your remarkable recovery here.”

We walked out of Dr. Billingsley’s office and started down the hallway. Dr. Billingsley shook Jeremy’s hand and said bye. Jeremy extended his hand to me and I touched his warm hand for the first time. While holding my hand, he lightly brushed his index finger on the inside of my palm, sending shivers up my arm.

“Rendezvous a duex, oui?” Jeremy said.

I smiled, my skin tingling, still holding his hand. I breathed in and out softly, once.

“Oui,” I said.

Jeremy let go of my hand before I let go of his.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jeremy

At group, Dr. Billingsley started the session by commenting about my personal breakthrough and went on to lecture on the steps involved in the recovery process. The Doctor was making perfect sense, but he delivered the information in such a dry academic manner the three women in my group weren’t listening. As he droned on in his monotonous voice, their eyes darted around the room or they would fix on a point in the distance that only they could see. They would then go inward, looking at nothing in particular, tuning in and out of the chaos going on in their own minds. Dr. Bichon watched over the group, including me, with an intense curiosity.

I had no idea if what I had to say would sound like useless drivel to them, but I had to talk to the three women. I owed them a great deal; so much that I felt I would always be indebted to them. They inspired the three fictitious women in my novel, Sapphire, Cynthia/Sindee and Eve. They helped lead me out of the darkness, which their flesh and blood counterparts were still shrouded in. I could not shake the feeling I had used them for my own psychological gain.

Perhaps I could make it up to them in reality. Since I assumed I would be leaving soon, this was my way of saying goodbye. When Dr. Billingsley turned the meeting over to me, I tried to make eye contact with Sara first. She never wore a bra and I could not help but notice the shape of the nipple rings protruding under her T-shirt.

“Hi, Sara.”

“Look. He’s not mute. He can talk.”

I smiled.

“Yeah. Sara, I’m sorry I’ve been so quiet up until now. I appreciate you letting me talk to you for a minute. I know all you want to do is get released from here and go back to Tony’s and get high again, right? Have you ever thought about why you like to smoke crack? You get high, it gives you a sense of euphoria, makes you feel really good, right?”

“If you’re trying to talk me out of being a drug addict, you’re doing a really shitty job.”

“But the feeling doesn’t last, it’s not real. You come crashing down and you feel shittier than ever, then you need more of the drug to make you feel good again.”

“So what’s your point, J?”

“I just wanted you to know how much I learned from your struggle, about myself. I think most addictions are similar. I don’t know how much the three of you know what happened to me, but I was married to this actress, Debbie, and the day my dad died of a heart attack I caught her fucking an actor she was rehearsing a play with.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, that’s why I flipped out and ended up here. But I was addicted to a false sense of euphoria too. I was addicted to my wife, Debbie. She was the crack I smoked, Sara. Every time I did something she liked, I felt this happiness inside. Every time she was pissed off at me, my world caved in around me. Rather than spending time with my father, I was catering to her every need. At the end, she’s lying on a bed on the stage of the Rockville Civic Center with her legs over her head getting fucked by that actor, and my father is gone and will never come back… So, whatever your drug of choice is, it does make you high, but it will fuck you over in the end, guaranteed. You can try to escape the childhood memory of your mom locking you in that roach-infested closet by using crack, but after a week-long binge, you feel like those same bugs are crawling all over your body, again.”

“That’s enough. Dr. Billingsley, do I have to listen to any more of this sh—”

“OK, Sara. OK. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted you to know how beautiful I think you are and if there’s anything I can do on the outside, take you to an NA meeting, give you a place to crash to get away from your drug friends, loan you some money to get you set up somewhere new, whatever I can do, I’m there for you. My personal contact info will be here if you ever need me, no matter where I am. OK?”

“I think I liked it better when you kept your fucking mouth shut, actually.”

“I mean it, Sara. You have a friend in me. You call me if you need me. Anytime, day or night...”

Sara looked away from me. I checked my watch. There wasn’t much time left in the meeting.

“Hey, Carolyn.”

“You have mispronounced my name. My name is Caroline, as in, I’m so fine,” Carolyn said.

I had forgotten that when Carolyn was wearing her long red wig she was immersed in the persona of her imaginary sister. She passed her fingers through the strands of her hair and refused to make eye contact with me.

“Caroline, of course.”

“Do I know you, sir? Are you a friend of my twin sister, perhaps? People often get us confused. I’m the skinny one.”

“Yes, it’s true. I’m a friend of your sister. Could you pass on a message for me?”

“I suppose.”

“Could you tell her how sorry I am for not having talked to her over the last month? I wish she was here so I could tell your sister how great she looked when I saw her the other day. Since I’ve been here she’s lost so much weight. I bet she’s gone down two or three dress sizes already. She’s nearly as skinny and pretty as you are, Caroline.”

“I’m sure she’d be delighted to hear you say that.”

“Tell her from me to forget about the Flaccid Bastard. He’s not worth thinking about for a moment longer. He was very rude to her, wasn’t he?”

“I would never have gone out with a guy like that.”

“I just got cheated on by someone, so I know how much pain she must be in. Can you tell her that if she ever needs anyone to talk to, please tell her she can talk to me. When she gets released from Potomac Fields, we could exercise together on the outside if she wants. Dr. Billingsley will have my phone number. Tell her to call any time, could you pass that along to her?”

“OK. You’re very nice. What was your name again?”

“Jeremy.”

“OK, I’ll let my sister know everything you’ve said, Jeremy.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

I looked at Eloise who sat quietly in her chair. As I spoke, she looked down at her hands folded in her lap, without making eye contact with me. She seemed to me to be the saddest one in the group.

“Hello, Eloise. I also want to apologize to you too for not talking until now. I just wanted to tell you how sweet and pretty I think you are. I wish I could make you see that what happened to you was not your fault. Your parents made you feel ashamed of your natural feelings. You did nothing wrong with the boy you were with. Nothing, Eloise. It was completely natural to want to be with your boyfriend like that.”

“God punished me for having premarital sex. My parents were right to be so ashamed of me. I bled all over my bed sheets.”

“The boy forced himself inside you before you were ready. You were nervous on your first time. That’s the only reason you bled so much. If your parents hadn’t made you so ashamed and the boy knew how to arouse you, it wouldn’t have been—”

“I disappointed Jesus Christ my Lord and Savior when I let that boy do that to me.”

“One day, Eloise, you’ll meet someone, fall in love, get married and you’ll see how different it can be with someone you love, someone that loves you and cares about you. You’re a beautiful person, Eloise, inside and out. If you ever want to talk to anyone, I want you to know you can always count on me. Dr. Billingsley will have my cell phone number, if you ever feel like talking. OK?

“I don’t need to talk to you. I’ve already confessed my sins to Jesus Christ and he has washed me clean of my sins…”

Eloise looked back down and stared at her hands.

Dr. Billingsley wrapped up the group session and Sara, Carolyn and Eloise left immediately. I stayed seated. I was disappointed I had made them uncomfortable, when all I intended to do was offer my hand in friendship to them. I walked with Dr. Billingsley and Dr. Bichon back to my ward. Dr. Billingsley patted me on the shoulder and told me I had said some positive things, but the group just wasn’t ready to hear it. I told him to be sure to give them my number in the future if they ever wanted to contact me. I hoped they would one day. Later that night when I tried to sit down with them in the cafeteria at dinner, they picked up their plates and moved away from me. I never spoke to them again at Potomac Fields…

On my private psychiatric session Thursday, Dr. Billingsley wanted to try out a role playing exercise in which I would have conversations with two persons: my wife and my father. I would be allowed to say anything to them that I wanted. I sat down opposite Dr. Bichon first and she portrayed my wife, Debbie. Dr. Billingsley told me to shut my eyes and just say to Debbie whatever came to my mind.

“Why did you cheat on me, Debbie?”

“It wasn’t your fault, Sheremy. I just made a mistake,” Dr. Bichon replied.

“Wasn’t I a good lover to you?”

“You were very good to me in bed. It had nothing to do with that. I guess I was just caught up in the moment and I made a huge mistake.”

“Do you have any idea what that did to me, seeing that man having sex with you? You really hurt me, Debbie.”

“I know. There’s nothing I can say. Other than I’m sorry.”

“I suppose you want me to forgive you now so we can get back together and act like it never happened.”

“I’d like to try again, if you would give me—”

“No, I don’t want to. I don’t want to talk to you or see you anymore. I want to get a divorce. My lawyer will be contacting you as soon as I’m out of this hospital. It’s over between us.”

“I hope you find happiness with someone else, Sheremy. You deserve it.”

“Oh, I’ve already met someone I care about…”

I looked deeply into Chantelle’s eyes. I could sense I made her feel uncomfortable and she looked away. I continued anyway, since it might be my only chance to tell her exactly how I felt.

“I’m not sure how she feels about me but I’m hoping one day we can be together. She’s not available now, but I’m willing to wait, no matter how long it takes. Six to twelve months, even. She’s worth the wait…”