Then she hung up on me.
I cursed and stood from the booth, packing my stuff up. I wasn't in a rush to head to her place, because she's pulled this shit on me more times than I can remember. Every time she was bluffing... except for once.
One time, I showed up and she was merely drunk, never having swallowed a damn pill. I yelled and cursed at her, told her to get her shit together. I started to walk out on her, when she ran in front of me with a bottle of pills in her hand. Before I could even register what she was doing, she popped the cap and titled her head back, swallowing several as I watched a few dribble out of her mouth and hit the carpeted floor.
I grabbed Maeve and pried her mouth open, even as she fought me. When I realized her mouth was empty, I didn't even hesitate before I dialed 999 for our emergency services and told them what happened. One ambulance ride to the hospital, and a good stomach pumping, had Maeve safe and secure again. She was thoroughly apologetic about it, and had promised never to do it again.
And while she has not swallowed any more pills while drinking, at least to my knowledge, she has threatened it a few times since then. Each time, I seek her out and talk her off the ledge, and part of me starts to wonder if she really wants to kill herself or she just wants my attention.
My gut told me she was lying to me this time, but I couldn't take the risk that she's wasn't. Fury rises up in me that she can't get her shit together. I care about her. I really do. But my main interest is in making sure she's competent so that our band doesn't fall apart. She's my friend, sure, but she's my business partner first and our future success hinges greatly on the solidarity of our group.
When I got to her apartment, that is when the nightmare really got good. Maeve was sprawled out face first on the bed. I shook her gently but she didn't move, and that's when I noticed the empty pill bottle. I shook her harder, slapping at her face.
I got nothing.
Panicking, I put my fingers to her throat and felt the barest stirring of a pulse.
Luckily, an ambulance arrived within minutes and here I sit, waiting to hear if she's okay. My stomach churns at the thought of Maeve dying. I've had enough death in my life to hold me over. I feel beyond helpless that my friend and band mate can't find peace in her life. If she pulls through this, something has to change.
***
I'm sitting by Maeve's bed, holding her hand. She's sleeping, which the doctor said was normal. They were able to pump her stomach, again, and said she should be physically fine--although they recommended she stay for another day to make sure. The doctor also had a frank discussion with me about her suicide attempt. He strongly recommended that she enter into an in-patient rehab facility and it's something that I couldn't agree with more. It's time for Maeve to get her head on straight.
Now the hard part will be talking Maeve into it. There's no one else in the world that will have this conversation with her, as Maeve doesn't have any family that I know of. She's always just said she was estranged from her parents and she never wanted to talk about it.
I briefly think about calling Sean. He's my best friend in the world and there isn't anything I can't share with him. And he's well aware of Maeve's drinking problem. But I dismiss the thought because there's nothing he can do and I know he'll agree with me that Maeve needs to get some serious help.
Maeve starts to stir in her bed and I feel her hand tighten its grip on mine. Her eyes flutter open and she looks at me through a haze of fog. After blinking several times, she glances around, taking in the hospital room. Her eyes return to me and she says, "You came."
I curse inwardly, because Maeve is seeing me as her hero. As the man who saved her from death's door. I don't want to be that man to her. It's not fair for her to put me in that situation. But I also know that I need to handle her with care right now, because no matter how mad I am at her for doing this, I am all too aware that some of this may be beyond her control.
"Hey darlin'. How're you feeling?"
She swallows hard and her eyes fill up with tears. "I'm sorry, Cillian. I didn't mean to do it."
I reach over and take her in my arms. She seems so frail and I let her cry into my chest. I whisper words of comfort and tell her it's going to be okay, and I hope to God it really will.
Maeve eventually pulls back and I let her lie back down. Still holding her hand, I speak firmly to her. "Maeve... you can't keep doing this. You need help."
She starts shaking her head. "No. I'm fine. It was a stupid mistake. I won't make it again."
"Maybe, maybe not. But we can't take the chance. Next time, I might not get to you in time."
"Please, Cillian. Don't make me enter into rehab or some mental hospital. I'm begging you, don't make me."
I knew she would do this. I knew she would buck against this, but I already knew what I was going to do when it happened. I don't know if I'm serious or if I'm bluffing, because this is all happening so fast, but I pour concrete into my voice when I say, "Maeve... honey... if you don't check in somewhere to get help, you can't be a part of OTE anymore."
Her eyes go wide with horror and a stab of guilt lances through me. "You wouldn't."
"I would. And you know I do what I promise. I need you healthy, babe. I need you healthy so we can make great music together."
She sniffles and turns her head away from me. Staring blankly at the wall, she says, "I wouldn't be this way... if you just gave us another chance. I know we could be happy."
"No, Maeve," I softly chide her. "This isn't about us. This is only about you."
Silence lays heavy in the air and I wait to see what she'll say. Finally, she takes a stuttering breath and says, "Okay. I'll do it. But promise me you'll visit me, and call me all the time. That you won't leave me in there to rot."
Relief surges through me and I reach over to pull her back into my arms. "Of course I will, darlin'. I'll be by your side every step of the way."
"You promise?"
"Yes. I promise."
***
I stayed with Maeve in the hospital for a few more hours then I got to work. I spent the majority of the time making phone calls trying to find a facility to get her. Then I went to her apartment to get her packed. I had to spend a few hours doing laundry for her, but by the time I left, I had enough stuff to last her for several weeks. The facility I found, Dublin Mind Wellness, specializes in drug and alcohol addiction and they are asking that she commit to at least thirty days in-patient, but they said it could be longer.
I called Sean and Daniel and had them meet me. I told them what was going on and they, of course, supported Maeve in this quest to get better. We all couldn't help but notice that this happened at the perfect time, since we were taking the summer off. It was our collective hope that she would be well on her way to a full recovery by the time we were ready to start recording again in the Fall. I left the guys with Sean promising he'd call our manager to let him know what was going on. He was on holiday somewhere in Germany but he shouldn't have any trouble getting up with him.
When I finally picked up Maeve from the hospital, she looked a bit steadier and more resolved. I was pleased to see this and was actually feeling hopeful for her future.
We make small talk on the short drive over to Dublin Mind Wellness, but the talk turns serious the closer we get.
"I can't do this without you, Cillian."
"And you won't have to," I assure her.
"I'm depending on you."
"I know. But you have to learn to depend on yourself, too." I take her hand and give it a soft squeeze before releasing it.
"I will. It will be easy, as long as I know you're with me. You're really all I have."
I don't like the sound of that. I want to be there for Maeve, and I will support her endeavors to get healthy one-hundred percent. But there is a small part of me that wonders if she can truly let go of what I'm now wondering may be an obsession with me. I surely hope so, because I can't continue down this path of self-destruction with her. I can
only be a friend to her and I hope that's enough. I make a mental note to myself to talk with her doctor about it, and make sure that I say the right things to her. That I'm able to encourage and support her without leading her on.
The check-in process goes smoothly and I even get to go with Maeve to see her room. I stay for a few minutes, but then decide it's best to leave so she can get used to her new environment.
She walks into me for a hug, laying her head on my chest.
"You're going to be fine, Maeve. I just know it. You just have to be strong and come back to us healthy."
She nods her head up and down, snuggling further into me. Her hips press into mine. It's a move that doesn't seem so friend-like anymore so I place a quick kiss on her cheek and pull back. Her eyes darken a bit, but then she smiles. "Remember, Cillian. You promised to be by my side through this."
Something oily and unsettling lodges in my chest over her tone. I'm afraid her idea of support and mine may be two different things, but I'm sure now is not the time to hash it out with her. Her doctor promised that we would talk by phone in a few days and I would ask him how to handle this with her.