Bitterly, he replied, “Are you serious? You want to lock me up in some kind of jail for drug addicts?”
“Rehab isn’t jail, Jack, these are specialized clinics that help people like you. You’re an addict, Jack. You need to face up to that. You’ve got to get help.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that about a thousand times.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Where’s the money supposed to come from? My mom stuck me in one of those places one time, and they cost a fortune. I’m talking fifteen thousand a month, easy.”
What the hell? I had no idea. Even if I asked my parents, my siblings, my grandmother, everyone I knew, there was no way I could scrape all that together. And I assumed Mr. Ross and Mary were done cleaning up their sons’ messes.
“There’s got to be somewhere cheaper,” I objected. “Somewhere that’s good but that’s not trying to fleece you…”
“Jen, drop it. It’s your birthday, you shouldn’t be thinking about this stuff.”
He wasn’t reprimanding me. He said it sweetly, and for a moment we just looked at each other. I wondered if he’d say something else, or where things would lead next. But soon, Mike walked in. He’d lost his jacket and tie at some point in the night, along with several buttons from his shirt.
“The party sucked,” he murmured. “What are you guys doing? Did I interrupt your long-awaited make-up kiss?”
“Very funny,” Jack grumbled.
“I guess that’s a no.”
“It’s Jen’s birthday,” Jack told him, giving him a stare that unambiguously saidbeat itbut that Mike, for some reason, interpreted to mean,Why don’t you sit down and stay a while?
“Hey, happy birthday, sister-in-law!” he told me, lurching forward and hugging me tight. He stank like a whiskey barrel. “You’re twenty-one now, right? We should be celebrating! If you like, I can take you out partying and we can leave this boring loser behind.”
“I’m twenty. I’m afraid I’m pretty boring, too,” I told him, “so it’s probably better if I just stick around.”
“Whatever,” Mike said, shaking his head. “I want to go to bed, and you’re taking up my couch. Go find somewhere else to be cheesy.”
Jack looked like he was contemplating punching him in the face, but instead he stood and walked out. I followed him. Behind us, I heard Mike chuckle: “See, you act all tough, but you always do what I say. Thanks for giving me my couch back, brother!”
As soon as he entered the bedroom, Jack jumped under the covers and started playing with a stuffed animal I knew very well. I thought he would tease me, but he just put Spot back on my side of the bed and patted it, inviting me in. I hesitated before lying beside him. He turned out the lights. I doubted I would sleep. After our conversation, I had more than enough material to spend the entire night thinking. I took off my glasses and set them on the nightstand and rolled onto my side, not wanting to bother him.
After a few seconds, he asked, “You really think I should go to a clinic?”
He was propped on one elbow, looking at me. His expression was vulnerable, and I thought my response must really matter to him.
“Yeah, I do.”
“What if it doesn’t help?”
“Then we’ll find another solution. But at least you’ll know you tried,and we’ll be working on solving the problem instead of just waiting for it to go away.”
I wrapped my arms around him and rested my chin on his shoulder, and he did the same. We didn’t say another word for the rest of the night.
10
Surprise!
I woke in a good mood. Not just because it was my birthday, but also because I was well-rested. I could hear the water running in the bathroom—that had to be Jack in the shower—so I sat up and went to the kitchen to make everyone coffee. I decided to skip my run, even if it made me feel a little guilty. I hadn’t exercised in forever. Spencer would kill me when he saw me next.
I was just taking my first sip when I heard the doorbell ring. I wondered if Mike had gone out to smoke again without his keys, since the couch was empty and everyone else must have been asleep. Despite everything, Mike made me laugh and was basically a good soul, so I was almost happy to see him when I opened the door. But any positive emotions I might have felt vanished when I found his father standing there.
Mr. Ross looked me up and down for what felt like an eternity. He was dressed impeccably, as usual. I was in a sweatshirt and boxers. It wasn’t ideal, and still worse, I couldn’t think of anything to say to him. Not that I had time to. He stormed past me, bumping my shoulder and nearly spilling my coffee.
“Good morning to you, too,” I murmured.
He stopped in the living room and looked around. There couldn’thave been a bigger contrast between the relaxed, informal look of the apartment and this stiff, bitter man grown old before his time. “Where’s my son?” he asked.
