Those were just words! Sticks and stones and all that.
I never told my kid,Sticks and stones may break your bones, but words will never hurt you.Personally, I’d rather someone beat the shit out of me than talk crap about me.
You broke her tooth!Callie insisted.
My guitar broke her tooth.It was an accident. Or it wasn’t. I hadn’t been aiming for herteeth.
Now, Evelyn says, “Our guests come here for all kinds of reasons. Rest, retreat, reset.”
“Is that your motto?” I mutter.
If this place had a motto, it’d probably be in Latin so no one could understand it. According to Callie, it caters exclusively to UHNW individuals. I googled UHNW rather than ask Callie what she was talking about: ultra-high net worth.
“Really,” I explain, “I’ve done the rehab thing a dozen times.”
“Addiction is a self-diagnosed disease.” Evelyn speaks in that awful tone people use when they think they know better than you do. Her unblinking ice-blue eyes are set far apart so she looks more like a doll than a person. If they made dolls of women in their fifties.
Usually, therapists at places like this are recovering addicts themselves, meant to inspire the rest of us—look how great life would be if you got sober!—as if anyone’s dream job is listening to other addicts’ sob stories all day. But it’s impossible to imagine Evelyn sniffing coke or shooting heroin or even smoking a joint. The whites of her eyes are too white, her forehead too smooth, her teeth too straight.
How long does it take to hate someone? Is twenty minutes enough? Because I already hate Evelyn.
I grab a handful of Sour Patch Kids from Andrew’s platter, catching a glimpse of a tattoo that peeks out from his sleeve and snakes around his wrist. I make out the wordsnever settle, the title of a song off our first album. I grin, but Andrew lifts a finger to his lips, the universal sign forshhhh.
“Why don’t I show you to your room?” Evelyn offers, apparently oblivious that her chef is a fan. “You can lie down, take a shower, get settled.”
I can decide for myself when I’d like to lie down or shower, but Idefinitely want Evelyn to leave me alone, so I follow her obediently, stealing a glance at Andrew, who’s rearranging the platter on the kitchen counter. I think he winks at me, but I can’t be sure. I feel a rush of butterflies in my belly. He’s taller and more muscular than the guys I usually hook up with, but handsome enough that I find myself smiling. I’m sure this is the kind of place that has rules aboutfraternization. I can practically hear Callie begging me not to give her another mess to clean up.
Everything in the bedroom is white: white bedspread, white sheets, white rug beside the bed. The walls in here are floor-to-ceiling windows, just like in the living room. It must cost a fortune to heat this so-called cottage.
I guess UHNW individuals don’t think about that kind of thing.
Someone has brought my bags in from the car and placed my notebook at the foot of the bed. The pink ribbon on my black luggage is the only splash of color in the room.
“When do I get my phone back?” I ask.
Evelyn smiles serenely. I bet she’s the kind of person who gets calm when others get angry. “Why do you need your phone?”
“I’m a mother.” It’s the truth but it feels like a lie. I’m the last person anyone back home would call if something went wrong. I’m usually thereasonthings go wrong. Without me, there’s clean hair and homework and lights out at bedtime.
“I assure you that if we receive any messages from your family, we’ll pass them along right away.”
“I can’t stay here without my phone,” I insist. I try to sound authoritative, but it comes out as a whine.Shrill.“I’m a businesswoman. My manager might need to contact me.”
“Of course, you can leave anytime.”
I drop onto the bed. The soft mattress gives way beneath my weight like a waterbed. “Do you take everyone’s phones?”
“Care here is individualized to meet our guests’ needs,” Evelyn says like it’s a line she memorized from a brochure.
“What about me screams,Take her phone?”
“You said so yourself, you’re not here for rehab.” Evelyn smiles that same peaceful smile again, and I hate her even more.
“So?”
“Do you really believe you can rest, retreat, reset if you’re bombarded by news from the outside world?”
Evelyn slides the door shut behind her, and I grab my notebook and start scribbling.
