Chip’s jaw flexed as he held his wife close. “I think I need to get her inside.”
“We need presents. There has to be presents. That was his favorite part.”
“Come on, Kay. We’ll do presents later. After dinner. You need to rest now,” Chip said as he guided her away from the table.
Gilly patted his shoulder as they passed. “Her medication is in the drawer in her nightstand.”
We all watched in silence as he led her towards the house. It wasn’t until they slipped inside that someone spoke.
“Well, that was fun,” Serena mumbled.
“Shut up,” Jax snapped.
“Hey, don’t take it out on me because you sent Mom into a freak-out.”
He stalked towards her, his face reddening. “You have no idea what we’ve been through these past few years. Because you took off, gallivanting all over who knows where and spending all their money. You’re pathetic.”
She blanched. “Jax…”
He threw up his hands. “I’m done with you. Jase would be ashamed of the way you bailed on your family.”
Serena promptly burst into tears and took off running for her apartment over the garage.
“Jackson,” Gilly said softly, shaking her head.
“You know I’m right. She’s selfish and immature. And she needs a reality check.”
“The truth isn’t always a kindness. It would be good for you to remember that.”
“Whatever,” he muttered and started towards his truck.
I slowly let out the breath I’d been holding since Kay’s outburst. Releasing it hurt. As if it scratched at my lungs and throat on the way out.
So much pain. It seemed impossible that one moment had caused all of this. One man’s reckless decision to get high. Drugs that had fueled his rage and taken away his normal thought processes.
But he wasn’t here for the Grangers to take their anger out on. He’d spent years in prison and then moved as far away from Wolf Gap as he could get. So, the anger and pain the Grangers were feeling was eating them alive instead. And I had no idea how to help.
“I’m sorry, Laiken.”
I looked up at Gilly’s voice. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. I thought she was doing better.”
She lowered herself to the picnic table. “Me, too.”
I sat down next to her. “What about the psychiatrist she’s been seeing?”
Gilly glanced towards the house. “I don’t know anymore. He doesn’t seem to be helping all that much.”
“Maybe it’s time to try someone new.”
“Maybe.” She toyed with a bead on her bracelet. “Chip doesn’t want to do anything to upset her. And on days like this one, the only thing Kay wants is to be numb.”
I knew that feeling. Weeks in the hospital where every time I got too upset, they pumped something into my IV. Then the months afterwards where I had a ready supply of painkillers that made me feel nothing at all.
I could still remember lining them up on my desk in neat rows one afternoon. Counting each one and wondering how many it would take for me to cease to exist altogether. That had been the wake-up call. I’d flushed them down the toilet and told my doctor I didn’t want any more.
It hadn’t been an easy road, but at the end of the day—painkillers or not—I hurt. Now, I only used them when I had to be on my feet for an event, which was only a handful of times a year. I used them to live instead of using them to check out. That was the difference.
But I remembered that deep pull towards nothingness. I knew that devil was more tempting than anything when you were hurting. And the last thing I wanted was for Kay to lose that battle.