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“Hey,” I said sharply. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m the only one you’ve got left.”
“Yeah, I’m aware the rest of the family wants nothing to do with me.”
His apathetic tone set something off inside me. Luke was indifferent to what seeing him suffer did to me.
“Dad and Gram and Gramps didn’t turn you away because they don’t love you. It was because they love you that they couldn’t watch you self-destruct anymore.”
He tossed the tongs on the counter and turned to face me. “I didn’t choose this, you know. I didn’t realize I was fucking my brain up with hockey.”
“Lie to yourself if you want, but don’t lie to me,” I said, holding his gaze. “You knew the concussions put you at risk for brain injuries. But you wanted to follow in Dad’s footsteps. And why does it even matter now? We are where we are.”
His eyes blazed with anger. “We? No,wedon’t get headaches that make us want to run into traffic just to make them stop.Wearen’t broke with no future. That’s me. Just me.”
“You don’t think I’m in this with you?” My voice broke with emotion. “All I want is for you to see in yourself what I see in you. That you’re worth trying for. You’re worth a thousand doctor visits if it gets you some relief and some help.”
His expression fell. “I don’t have any money or health insurance. I’m just getting by one day at a time.”
“I’ll help you.”
He shook his head. “You’ve already done too much. All I want is some sense of normalcy. I just want to find a job and live a regular life.”
“But if you’ll go to rehab, Gram and Gramps will”
“I don’t want it!” he yelled. “I don’t want their money and I don’t need to go to rehab. You’ve seen me—I’m fine. Have I been doing drugs since I got here?”
I put his plate at the breakfast bar, getting out the butter and syrup.
“If you don’t need it, then it should be an easy four weeks,” I said, using a mild tone in hopes I wouldn’t upset him.
“Four weeks?” he laughed. “They want to send me to aninety-dayprogram. Some bullshit in Oregon with hiking and camping.”
“I’d take a ninety-day vacation to Montana.”
“A vacation where the doors are locked and you have shrinks psychoanalyzing you every day?”
I shrugged. “I need to get into therapy, honestly. I think it could help me with some things.”
He sighed heavily. “I know you’re trying to help me. I just…I guess I need to figure out what I want. I know what I don’t want.”
“Eat,” I said. “We can talk while you eat.”
He sat down and started on the pancakes while I poured myself another cup of coffee.
“So whatdon’tyou want?” I asked.
A minute of silence passed as he considered. I hated to see him so anguished, but I knew he needed to dig deeper into his emotions in order to find his way.
“I don’t want to be a drug addict. It’s one thing to do a line of coke from time to time, but I found myself considering meth at one point when I was flat broke and I needed a fix. That scared me straight. Then I turned to betting, though.” He set his fork down, looking forlorn. “I knew who I was when I was younger. I was a hockey player, and I had a great family. Then the headaches started and I lost hockey. Mom died. Dad and Gram and Gramps don’t want anything to do with me. I don’t know who I am anymore. I guess I’m just…nothing.”
My heart broke for him. No one deserved to feel that way. I stood on the other side of the breakfast bar and met his gaze.
“You are not nothing, and this is exactly why I think rehab would be good for you. It’s not just about addictions, it’s about figuring out what really matters to you and where you want to be. You’re smart and funny and you can fix just about anything. You make people feel good when you’re around them. You have so many strengths, and the fact that you can’t see them is a huge problem.”
He nodded, his shoulders slumping. “I’ll think about it.”
I went back to the couch and picked up my book, not wanting to push him further. After he finished eating, he put his dishes in the dishwasher and sat down next to me.
“You know if you want me to go you can just say so, right?” he asked. “I’ll figure something out.”
