Unforgiven(66)

“Get yourself better, Samantha, and you will. You’ll find someone deserving of you,” I tell her. Her eyes shift downward and she picks at the sandwich on her tray. We finish our lunch in silence before heading back to our room, where I lie down for a nap. Samantha heads off to the lounge, where there is a television and most of the residents gather after lunch. I’m not in the mood to mingle or be social today.
Rehab is exactly what Reagan said it would be. We now have a group therapy session, where I get to introduce myself as the new girl and tell everyone my “story.” I’m surprised at how comfortable I am admitting my demons to a group of strangers. However, they are here for many of the same reasons, so I know there is no judgment. They watch me intently, everyone sympathetic to my story. Samantha is in my group and sits quietly, her fingers playing with the seam of her dark blue jeans. There are eight people in my group session. All of us are battling drug or alcohol addiction and a few of us, me included, are the lucky ones with an extra little something trying to bring us down—for me, it’s anorexia; for another girl, it’s OCD.
I watch each person speak as they tell their story. And while our stories are not the same, and we’re so different due to our ages, our genders, our looks, our nationalities, or our socioeconomic statuses, we’re all the same—we all have struggles, we all want to get better. Our session ends and we’re free for the remainder of the afternoon and evening. Dinner, social time, and phone calls are on the agenda for the evening. Since it’s also my first day, I have to check in with the staff physician before dinner.
Samantha sits on her bed, reading, and occasionally glances at me while I finish unpacking. I make a mental note to ask her more about her books, to see if I can get her talking. The rest of the day passes quickly. I actually do a decent job of finishing my dinner of chicken breast, steamed vegetables, fresh fruit, yogurt, and a dinner roll. I’m so uncomfortably full it’s hard to walk. I visit the staff physician, who takes my vitals and monitors me for signs of withdrawal. Most of that happened back at the hospital, which I’m thankful for. He notes my shaky hands and starts me on vitamins to replace what I’ve been depriving my body of. All in all, it is an uneventful first day.
I shower and get ready for bed before I find the small, private rooms to make phone calls. We were allowed to bring cellphones and laptops to check email, but they strongly encourage us to focus on rehabilitating ourselves, so I gladly handed mine over. I walk into the small room that has a chair and a side table with the phone sitting on it. I close the glass door behind me. Everything here is semi-private; there are lots of glass doors and cameras everywhere. I pick up the receiver and dial Landon’s cell phone. Three rings later, he finally picks up.
“Hi, Lan,” I say with a smile.
“Linds, how are you?”
Just the sound of his voice is immediately comforting. “I’m good. Just spent most of the day getting settled, eating, and had my first group therapy session.”
“How was that?”
“Actually, pretty good,” I respond.
“And did you eat?”
“I did. Enough to make you proud.” I laugh quietly.
“Atta girl. I was actually planning to come up Friday night to visit you if that’s okay with you?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“I wanted to give you a few days to settle in. Of course, Mom wants to come with me if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, I’d love that. In fact, before you say anything else, I need to ask you something. It’s something that’s important, so please consider it.” My palms sweat as I anticipate what his response might be.
“Okay…” he says hesitantly.
“My therapist would like to do a family session. You, me, and Mom.” He’s quiet for longer than usual, which has set off the red flags. “I know what you’re thinking, Landon…”
“I’ll do it,” he cuts me off. “I know Mom will too.” I breathe a heavy sigh of relief.
“Thank you.”
“I’d do anything for you, Lindsay. I want you healthy.”
“I want to be healthy too. Okay, I’ll call tomorrow night and I can’t wait to see you Friday. Tell Reagan thank you again for bringing me. And, Lan? I love you.”
“I love you too, baby sister.” I smile and hang up the phone, ready to go to bed.
I actually sleep fairly well for being in a new environment with a roommate that might be part vampire. She doesn’t sleep. Ever. She just reads and reads and reads. She has a stack of at least forty books on top of her small chest of drawers and, each time I see her, she’s reading a different one. I wake before the staff wakes us, which gives me some time to get to know Samantha a bit better, if she’ll talk to me.