Abigail had had to ask herself whether some dark secret might be lying just under the surface. She knew her friend Darlene well enough to know that she seemed to be carrying some great weight on her heart that morning as they drove together. While their husbands prepared for the first day of meetings of the clandestine Roundtable group, the two women had driven to Aspen for lunch. The idea had been Darlene’s.
Abigail was several years younger than the round-faced Darlene. The two had known each other for nearly a decade and had initially met through their husbands. Darlene was married to Judge Fortis Rice, a former Idaho State Supreme Court justice. He was a charter member of Joshua’s Roundtable.
As a longtime resident of Colorado, Abigail had traveled through that fashionably rustic little village more than a few times. She privately didn’t care for the celebrity-conscious, Beverly-Hills-of-the-Rockies atmosphere of the famous ski resort, which was home to a number of Hollywood stars and even a Saudi prince. But Darlene had never been there and wondered if they could go. Abigail said she would be happy to take her and agreed to do the driving. They would travel in the little yellow Jeep for the daytrip, the one that Darlene thought looked so cute, which the Jordans kept year-round at Hawk’s Nest.
As they sat down together at the crowded outdoor café for lunch, Abigail wondered if Darlene may have arranged their day together so she could open up about whatever it was that had her in its grasp. But Darlene wasn’t ready just yet. Instead, she was busy cracking jokes about the Aspen society: the trendy Labradoodle mix of designer dogs being walked past their table by the locals, and the wealthy chic women wearing artfully ripped blue-jeans and eight-carat diamonds strolling by and swinging their Prada bags.
Darlene had Abigail laughing and enjoying herself. But as Abigail studied her friend, she saw it. A sadness just beneath the surface of Darlene’s humor.
They continued to pick their way through their salads while chatting about nothing in particular. Darlene had ordered a huge chef salad while Abigail had fancied the lean “Aspen Forest Special,” which consisted of a bowl of greens garnished with nuts and fruit.
Darlene finished a bite, glanced over at her friend, and shook her head. “Oh, you’re still so good with calories. Look at me. I’ve loaded up with all this ham and cheese. And I forget to order the low-cal dressing…”
“Darley, don’t be so hard on yourself. Just chalk this up to a little celebration. Two chick-friends doing lunch. It’s really been too long…”
“Not since New Year’s Eve.”
“We’ve got to get together more often. I mean it, Darley…”
Suddenly Darlene got very quiet. She looked at her salad and listlessly stirred the lettuce for a moment. She then sighed, put her fork down, and rested her chin on her folded hands.
“You know Abby, I used to think you were a friend…”
Darlene paused. Abigail wondered what was coming next.
“But now I think of you as my dearest friend.”
Abby blushed a little and reached across the table for Darlene’s hand. She squeezed it while Darlene continued.
“We don’t see each other but, what, maybe twice a year on average. And lots of phone calls in between, of course…”
“I feel I can really share anything with you…”
Now Abigail was waiting.
But then Darlene suddenly darted off course. “You look so fit, Abby. You must still be jogging?”
“I try to. Our schedules have become impossible lately. It’s hard to stick to the routine with everything that’s going on…”
“I know. Fort and I have been following how the media has been going after poor Josh over this missile crisis. What a mess this country’s in.”
Abigail nodded and smiled, but she knew Darlene was just dancing around the issue now, whatever it was.
“I bet there’s been a lot of pressure on the two of you,” Darlene continued.
“There has been. But funny enough, I feel so close to Josh lately, despite the tension and stress.”
“Hmm, stress…” Darlene repeated the word with almost a kind of whimper.
“But on the other hand, I know of so many other folks who have it much harder than we do,” Abigail offered with a gentleness in her voice that unexpectedly caught her friend off guard. Darlene quickly covered her mouth with her hand as her eyes began to fill up. It took nearly a minute before she could collect herself and respond. When she did, her voice was noticeably trembling.
“I will never forget how you helped me through Jimmy’s death. It’s one of those things that a mother doesn’t ever let go of. So many questions. How could my perfectly healthy twenty-five-year-old die like that from an aneurism? No warning. No symptoms. A call from his friend…they were playing basketball at the Y. ‘Jimmy collapsed,’ he said. Your whole life changes in an instant. From one phone call.”
“I’m just glad I could be there for you,” Abigail reassured. “And I’m still here.”
“I tried to talk with Fort about it. But you know him; he sort of retreats into himself. I don’t blame him. It’s just the way he is. I know he was devastated. I still wonder whether all of that contributed to his heart problems. And ever since he had to retire from the bench it’s been…well…interesting at home, and not in a good way.”
Darlene paused. She was getting closer. Abigail let her friend continue.
“So I’ve had to cope as best as I can. Find my own little methods to live with all of this. Funny how when you’re younger you don’t really fear much. Then you start losing things, losing people you love, and suddenly you’re afraid of everything. So you do whatever it takes to put one foot in front of the other, maintain your balance.”
As she stared off into space, her hands were now on the table, and her fingers were gracefully moving in a rhythm, as if she were strumming some tiny, invisible guitar.
Then, abruptly, she sat straight up and began looking around. “Where is it? Where’s my purse?”
There was a look of panic on Darlene’s face.
Abigail spotted it under her chair and reached down to pluck it up. Darlene thrust her hand over the table to grab the purse. As she did she inadvertently knocked her purse out of Abigail’s hand and down onto the table where the contents spilled out.
Including a dozen prescription pill bottles.
Abigail picked up one of the bottles. Then another. And another. They all read Diazepam.
Abigail recognized what it was.
“These are all valium…”
Darlene reached out to grab them and stuff them back in her purse. She was trying to look unruffled. But it wasn’t working. Her hands were trembling, and she accidentally dropped several of the pill bottles on the floor once again. Abigail quietly helped her pick them up and placed them on the table.
Then she reached over and squeezed Darlene’s hand. “Okay, friend. You’re dealing with a lot, aren’t you?”
Darlene was struggling to crack a joke about her moment of embarrassment with the pill bottles. She tried to smile and started to speak, but she couldn’t, at least for a moment or two. She glanced around nervously at the other café guests while her chin trembled and the tears started rolling down her cheeks.
Finally she summoned the strength to speak. “Okay, Abby. Now you know. My nasty little secret. This is how I cope.”
“That’s a lot of valium, Darley…”
Darlene nodded. “I have three different doctors. In three different cities. All of them prescribing. I don’t think they know about each other. Although two of them know about Fort, and because of who he is, they don’t ask a lot of questions. So I triple-dose. I’m using this to exist, Abigail.”
“And?”
“And I find that I can’t live without it. Literally. I can’t give it up. God help me, I’ve tried to stop. But whenever I quit, fear and anxiety start to suffocate me. I can’t breathe. Can’t sleep. I can’t even begin to tell you how terrible it is.”
“Does Fort know?”
“I don’t think so. He knew I was taking some medication right after Jimmy’s death to relax but that’s about it.”
Abigail thought about the next question she wanted to ask her friend. She knew it might sound a little brusque. But it was necessary. So she decided to move ahead.
“I am asking this only because I care about you, Darley. But I was wondering, why did you decide to share this with me?”
Darlene shrugged and slightly shook her head.
For an instant Abigail feared that she had offended her friend. But then Darlene spoke up.
“I suppose, I don’t know…maybe I thought you were one of the few people who wouldn’t judge me but who would be honest with me.”
“Honest about what?”
“My, uh…you know…”
“I’m listening…”
“Okay. My addiction. Fine, I said it. I’m totally dependant on my pills to survive. Please don’t hate me for this…”
“Darley, of course not. I love you like a sister. But what are you going to do about it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you’ve got some advice. I’ve run out of answers. I’m just surviving from one minute to the next. Just barely.”
“Look, I’m glad you confided in me. I’m no expert. But I know a little about addiction. Back when I was practicing law full-time I had a few clients dealing with similar issues. And I know enough to know that your willingness to admit you’ve got a problem is the first big step.”
“That’s good to hear…”
“The next step is to find a place that is discreet, where counselors can help you to kick this thing. I can help you look for a good rehab center.”
Darlene was weeping gently.
Abigail continued, “You’re also going to have to talk to Fort about this…”
“Abby, he’s going to be devastated…”
“But he loves you, Darley. I’m sure he’ll support you. But there’s one more thing, an even more important step…”
Just then the waitress walked by. Darlene glanced at the last pill bottle on the table, snatched it, and quickly thrust it back into her purse.
She then looked up at Abigail through her tears and asked, “An even more important step? Like what?”
“You said it yourself.”
“Yes. When you said the words God help me…I believe He can and He will. If you let Him. God’s in the business of fixing people.”
Darlene’s face relaxed into a mildly surprised look. As if she had just been told something she assumed she had known all along but now realized she had never really thought about.