Desperate (9 page)

B
efore I did anything, before I called out to Anna, before I put my hand through a wall, I went for my bottle of Adderall. I kept the bottle in my Dopp kit, which I stored in the cabinet beneath the sink. It wasn’t something Anna would go rifling through, so it was a relatively safe place to hide my illicit drug of choice. Anna didn’t know about it and I didn’t want her to know.

I hadn’t planned to become an Adderall addict. I picked up the med after stumbling on an article about how college students were taking ADHD drugs recreationally. At the time, it seemed the perfect solution to my ongoing problem at work. I read up on the science behind Adderall before ingesting the first pill. Most of my research focused on people who took Adderall and
didn’t
have ADHD, people like me. I was curious about potential side effects. It seemed to be the drug of choice for those of us who needed to do it all and do it fast.

I started popping pills six months after the car accident, at a critical time for the Olympian project. I needed the distraction of work to help combat my deepening depression. At least that was what I told myself. I couldn’t do my job. I couldn’t focus. If my performance at work didn’t improve, I figured at some point HR would have no choice but to let me go. This was my thinking, anyway.

Adderall, from what I’d read, would stimulate the dopamine production in my frontal cortex to improve my concentration and focus. It’s a blend of various drugs, including amphetamine salts, which technically makes it speed, and yes, it’s a controlled substance as far as the FDA is concerned. The neurobiology was pretty straightforward. With the increased dopamine flow, an ADHD brain could carry on its executive functions as a normal brain would. For those without ADHD, it’s like being an athlete and taking steroids.

My concentration went from fleeting to superglued on every task. Motivation? That got jacked up, too. Thinking and focus came in sharper and clearer than any HD broadcast. I felt like I could do the job they were paying me to do and then some.

That was how I got hooked.

Adderall gave me the focus I needed and let me forget my pain. Without it, I concentrated on all the wrong things. I desperately wanted something, anything, to numb my shattered soul. That had been five years ago. I should have weaned myself off it; I should have been able to work without Adderall. But I couldn’t, which made me an addict, and Adderall my secret.

I popped two pills, double the prescribed dosage. If I weren’t careful, I’d go through my allotted quantity before the month was up. But sometimes I skipped days, so I had accumulated a stash for those extra-needy periods. My blood was already pumping like a steam engine on overdrive. For a moment I feared the accelerant would stop my racing heart midbeat. In some ways, I wished it would. To be with them again, to be with my son in the place that only Brad could connect us.

The drug was in me. I wanted it inside me so I could think clearly. Think . . .
what was I going to do about Lily?
I pictured how it all went down. While Anna and I were at work, Lily took the key from under the flowerpot—we’d shown it to her—and let herself right in. She was looking for something to take—to sell, maybe. Why? Drugs? Cash to pay a debt?

I couldn’t answer that question, but the necklace wasn’t worth much money. What I could do (and did) was to call out for Anna.

A few minutes later, Anna was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, wearing a satin, floral-patterned bathrobe, watching me pace about our living room.

“It’s gone. That’s all we need to know,” I said, changing direction like a duck in a shooting gallery.

“I agree, it’s gone,” Anna replied, looking rather perplexed.

Together we had scoured every inch of the bathroom floor but had come up empty-handed.

“So, we’re going to have to talk to Lily again,” I said.

“Are you sure it was there?” Anna asked.

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s been there. It’s always there.”

“But did you notice it, is what I’m asking? Did you actually
see
it there yesterday? The day before?”

I thought back. Did I recall having seen the necklace? Could I pinpoint a specific moment where I was fully aware of it? No, it wasn’t like that. The necklace was just there. It was like any object that became so rooted in the familiar. Only through its absence did it become noticeable.

“No, I don’t remember seeing it,” I admitted.

“Why would Lily have taken your necklace?” Anna asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, tossing my hands into the air. “Let’s ask her.”

“She isn’t home,” Anna said. “I knocked and then I called.”

“We’ll use the key and go in there and look for it,” I said, still pacing the room while running my hands through my hair. My heart was thumping now.
Whap. Whap. Whap.
When I wasn’t moving, I was grinding my teeth.
Thank you, Adderall
. Anything might have set me off. My tension could have been harnessed and used as model rocket fuel.

“Gage, are you all right?” Anna eyed me with concern.

A knock on the door, and we both whirled our heads in that direction.

“Hello?” Lily’s soft and plaintive voice called. “Are you guys at home?”

Anna stood, rubbing the palms of her hands against the shimmery fabric of her robe. Had my erratic behavior made her so nervous that her palms got sweaty? Maybe so, but this felt like a changing day around here—
Thank you, Dr. Phil
. It was time for Anna to see the truth about Lily.

A
nna opened the front door to let Lily enter, along with a thread of humid air that was immediately absorbed by the air conditioning. Lily was wearing a short black skirt, dark leggings, knee-high boots, and a low-cut, black T-shirt with the Jillian’s logo emblazoned on the front. Her long, straight hair looked shiny, newly washed. She no longer had the appearance of a wayward forest nymph. She looked confident, like she was going to hustle for tips.

“I was in the bathroom getting ready for work and saw that you called,” Lily said. “Is everything all right?”

“No, it’s not all right, Lily,” I said, glowering.

Anna gave me a look—that look. I swallowed my anger, but it was tough to get down with all the Adderall kicking about my system.

Lily shot Anna a worried glance. “What’s going on?” she asked, a quaver to her voice.

I saw Lily’s hands rest across her belly and wondered if she was sending a message of sorts:
you can’t be upset with me because I’m pregnant.

“Come on in,” Anna said. “There’s been an incident.”

“Understatement,” I snapped, with teeth clenched.

Again, Anna glared. “Knock it off, Gage,” she said.

“What is going on?” Lily demanded.

“The necklace,” I said.

Lily looked perplexed.

“Where is it?” I asked. “It’s very important to me, Lily. It has a lot of sentimental value. I need it back.”

The Adderall was doing its thing. My eyes were locked on Lily like heat-seeking missiles. I doubt I even blinked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come here and I’ll show you,” I said.

We moved down the narrow hallway and stopped at the bathroom. I went inside, Lily paused at the doorway, and Anna kept to the hallway with her back pressed up against the wall, arms folded across her chest. Standing in front of the bathroom sink, I pointed to the spot on the medicine cabinet where the necklace should have been.

“I’ve been living here for four years. The necklace that is
missing
has been hanging in this spot,” I said, tapping the top left corner of the medicine cabinet several times for emphasis. “I used to look at the necklace every single morning, every morning, because it brought me a lot of comfort. There’s a picture in the locket of Karen, Max, and me and it’s very sentimental to me. I don’t always look at the necklace, but I always know it’s there. Do you see what’s wrong with this picture?” My voice was thick with sarcasm.

“Gage, please, don’t be nasty,” I heard Anna say.

Lily looked stunned.

“I . . . I don’t . . .”

“There is no necklace with a locket here anymore.”

Lily put her hand to her chest as the first flutter of indignation. “Are you suggesting that I took it?”

She took a cautious step back, moving away from me—the threat—and toward Anna—the ally.

“I’m suggesting it didn’t take itself,” I said.

“Maybe you were robbed,” Lily blurted out.

“And all they stole was a single sentimental necklace? Anna has jewelry here. We have a nice TV, computers. If we were robbed, why would the robbers take a necklace and a locket?”

“I don’t know!”

Lily’s voice trembled. I saw her lower lip quivering, too. Perhaps that was what she did before she started to cry. I didn’t know, because I didn’t really know Lily. All I’d done was invite this perfect stranger into my home because she gave Anna and me hope for a happier future. Some hope. What I got from Lily was a world of doubt.

“Check the floor, Lily. Check all around,” I said, motioning for her to come closer. “It’s gone.”

“And you think I took it?”

“Give me another explanation,” I said, glaring.

“This is because of the present, isn’t it?” Lily said. “You’re still angry about that.”

“I’m not,” I said. Adderall might help me with focus, but it does nothing for lying.
Now if they could make a drug for that. . . .

“Yes, you are,” Lily said. “You’re upset about the present and about what happened with Anna’s mother. Look, do you want me to go? Leave you guys? I thought you wanted this.”

“We do,” Anna said, alarmed. “Gage, you stop this right now. Stop threatening her.”

I could hear rage in Anna’s voice—spitfire anger spoken through clenched teeth.

“I’m not threatening anyone,” I said. “I just want my necklace back.”

“I didn’t take it,” Lily said. Her eyes had gone moist.

Anna put her hands on Lily’s shoulders to calm her. The touch worked. Lily’s resolve returned as the gathering tears retreated.

“Gage is just upset, Lily,” Anna said. “He doesn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Lily gave me a look as if to say,
Yes, he does.

Without my prodding, Lily entered the bathroom. She walked in a slow, purposeful way, like a detective entering a crime scene. Her eyes scoured the pink tiled floor, scanning, probing, as if I had missed a spot. Then, she fixed her gaze on the medicine cabinet itself, studied it awhile, head tilting, looking and looking some more, before moving in closer for a more detailed inspection. I watched her run her hands along the edges of the cabinet, feeling the wall. I think I saw what she was noticing. Plastic anchors had been used to secure the cabinet to the wall and over time they had loosened some, creating a small gap between the back of the cabinet and the wall where it was hanging.

“Get me a screwdriver,” Lily said. “I think I know what happened.” I huffed. “You sound like Encyclopedia Brown,” I said, thinking I’d muttered that under my breath.

“Gage!” Anna snapped.

“Who is that?” Lily asked.

“Never mind,” I said, bending down to get underneath the sink where I happen to keep a screwdriver for the occasional plumbing project. I handed the tool to Lily.

“What do you have in mind, Lily?” I asked.

“Well, something like this happened to me before,” Lily said. “Not with something so sentimental, but it was a chain.”

“You think my necklace is behind the medicine cabinet?” I asked.

Lily nodded.

“Yeah, a flick of a towel, you move your hands, brush against it, something, and it comes off the corner, but instead of falling to the floor it gets stuck between the back of the medicine cabinet and the wall.”

“Then let me help you take it down,” I said. “It’s got slots on the back where it’s attached to the wall anchors. We just need to lift it.”

I had to admit that Lily was good, damn good. Of course there wasn’t going to be any necklace behind the medicine cabinet. She was a clever girl, though, making a clever smoke screen. I’m sure if Anna and I went looking (and not very hard) through her apartment (really my apartment, as she hadn’t signed any official lease) we would find the necklace among her belongings. Maybe I’d have to do a little B&E of my own.

I held one side of the medicine cabinet while Lily held the other.

“Okay, ready to lift?” I said. “It’s not light.”

Anna’s expression became worried. “Lily, should you be lifting anything heavy?” she asked. She took a few steps toward Lily, ready to take her place. Lily raised a hand to stop her.

“It’s fine,” she said. “It’s just a medicine cabinet.”

Lily leaned her body away from the wall to look at me from behind the side of the medicine cabinet and I saw something in her eyes—perhaps a little glimmer of delight. It was an inscrutable look, whatever it was.

“So you’re ready?” I asked again.

“I’m ready,” Lily said, her pitch-perfect girly voice layered with sweetness.

I counted to three and we pulled together. The medicine cabinet came off the wall along with a few bits of plaster as the fasteners loosened as well.

Something dropped from behind the cabinet—the necklace! Only it had fallen into the sink, and the drain had been left wide open. The necklace spun around in a wide circle, following the contours of the sink on its way to the open drain. My eyes went wide as panic set in. I wanted to reach for it, but I was holding on to a pretty heavy medicine cabinet at the time, so I fought the urge.

Lily wasn’t as concerned. She let go of her end and made a desperate grab for the necklace, grasping it a millisecond before it vanished down the drain. Off balance, the medicine cabinet tumbled from my hands and smashed onto the tile floor with a thunderous crash. Bits of shattered mirror spread out in all directions like shrapnel from a bomb. Anna gasped as she covered her ears. I yelled, too, and not something I should have shouted at the woman pregnant with my future child.

The medicine cabinet lay on its side. Our toiletries had all spilled out: toothpaste, prescription pills (thankfully not my Adderall), dental floss, makeup (not mine), lotion (okay, mine), Afrin (mine as well), Q-tips, a razor, and my night guard (my dentist claims I grind my teeth when I sleep). It was a smorgasbord of our personal stuff, not that Lily took any notice. Instead, she held up the necklace with a proud and satisfied look. The chain swayed back and forth in her hand, like something a hypnotist might use, with the heart-shaped pendant containing the tiny family portrait still attached.

“I got it!” Lily said, her voice triumphant.

I looked down at the floor and Lily’s eyes followed mine. Only then did she seem to take notice of the resulting devastation. She gave me a sheepish look and turned to give Anna the same.

“Oh, my God, I am so sorry, guys,” she said, laughing with embarrassment. Lily leaned over and handed me the necklace. “Well, at least it didn’t go down the drain.”

“Gage,” Anna said, entering the bathroom. “I think you owe Lily an apology.”

“I’ll clean this up,” Lily said. “I’m so super-sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Anna said, setting both hands on Lily’s slender shoulders.

“No really, I insist. It’s my bad. I let go of my side.”

How convenient
, I thought. Not the medicine cabinet, but how convenient that it was Lily who found the missing necklace. I felt like a total fool and couldn’t help but wonder if that was the intention.

“Look, I’m sorry, Lily,” I said, clutching the necklace in my hand. “I’m sorry that I accused you. I was wrong.”

“No need to apologize,” Lily said, brushing me aside, but in a way that did not seem at all genuine. Her eyes demanded a lot more than an apology from me. She looked as though she had just tasted a few drops of my blood and hungered for more. She wasn’t at all done with me. “I understand you were upset, and I seriously insist on cleaning all this up. I’ll even pay for a new one.”

“Nonsense,” Anna said. “We’ll clean it up together, and you don’t owe us a thing.”

Anna and Lily embraced, sweetly and with much tenderness. It was then I began to realize just what was happening. Something else was at work here, something I was just beginning to see and comprehend. An alliance was forming between Lily and Anna, and it was clear that I was the odd man out.