Lost and Found in Lavender Bay (The Lavender Bay Chronicles #2)

48. Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Five

E verett’s thirty days were up at the residential rehab facility. Maureen and Allan were eager to bring him home. The treatment center was pretty strict with their rules: they did not allow cell phones or any kind of electronic devices, but they had been allowed to send online messages of support and encouragement to him through the facility. They also attended weekly family therapy sessions. Although Ash was unable to attend, Lance went to everyone. As the weeks progressed, they had seen a definite improvement in their son’s appearance and demeanor, and they were cautiously optimistic.

The rehab facility was set back from the road so you couldn’t hear any of the traffic from outside. The campus was surrounded by mature trees of various heights and different foliage, giving it a feeling of seclusion. Benches were placed throughout, and there was a bird bath and numerous bird feeders. It was a lovely, leafy spot.

On arrival, they’d been subjected to an inspection to make sure they weren’t smuggling in any contraband. But the security guards had been pleasant enough while they searched through Maureen’s purse and asked Allan to empty his pockets.

They met Everett in his room, which was clean and brightly decorated in pastel colors. It was quiet, and soft sunlight filtered in through the window. He looked well. Better than he had in months. He’d put on a little weight, his clothes were clean, and his hair had recently been washed.

“How’s it going?” she asked him, settling into one of two armchairs and setting her purse on the small end table. Allan took the other chair, crossing one leg over the other and resting his arms on the armrest.

Everett sat in the middle of his made bed. A slim hardcover copy of The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway lay on the bedside table. “Good,” he said.

They’d been advised to keep the conversations light.

Always at the back of Maureen’s mind was the thought that he might relapse. Opioid addiction was tough. But she supposed all addictions were tough whether it be cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, or food. She pushed these thoughts aside, deciding to focus on the present moment.

“What’s new at home?” Everett asked.

“Lance will be starting trade school next week,” Allan replied. “He seems excited about it.”

“Hopefully he’ll like it,” Maureen said.

“Mom, jeez, don’t be so negative.”

Duly chastised and not wanting things to escalate, she said quickly, “You’re right. This is what he wants to do, and he has our support. As do you.”

“I know, Mom. Thanks. How’s Ash? ”

Maureen smiled. “She’s settling in. Likes her roommate. Looking forward to the college experience.”

Everett nodded. “Good for her.” He appeared thoughtful for a moment. Maureen noticed his face had filled out a bit; he didn’t appear as gaunt as before.

“I’d like to go back,” he said. “Someday.”

“You would?” Allan asked, unable to hide his surprise.

But to Maureen, this sounded promising. Having taken a leave of absence, he’d have to redo the semester, but no matter.

“Yeah, I would. I miss it. The classroom stuff.”

This was the best news she’d heard in a long time.

“That’s positive,” said Allan.

Everett nodded. “If I can stay clean.”

“Take it one day at a time, honey,” Maureen added, trying to remain positive. It was important for him to remember this. He had a roof over his head and the support of his family. Employment would be the next step. But one thing at a time.

“Okay, Mom.”

They spoke a few more minutes about Everett’s desire to return to college, with Allan suggesting that maybe he could enroll in the local community college and take a few classes until he was ready to go back full time.

Maureen reached into her purse and pulled out the St. Anthony medal, now hanging from the chain she’d purchased for it at the jeweler in town. She stood up from her chair and handed it to her son.

“What’s this?” he asked, turning it around in his hand.

“It’s actually a funny story.” She returned to her seat. “I found that one morning on the beach. It’s a St. Anthony medal. Supposedly, you pray to him for lost things. Not only material but non-material things as well.”

“What’s so funny about that?” Everett asked.

“I was getting to that. As I said, I found it on the beach. Aunt Gail says it’s over a hundred years old. But here’s the funny part. Aunt Gail thinks it belonged to Grammie.”

“Your grandmother?”

Maureen nodded. “Yes, if you can believe that. She remembers her mother telling her she’d lost one.” Maureen paused. “Aunt Gail said she lost it in the lake which makes sense because I found it on the beach.”

“Sounds about right,” Allan said.

“Mom, we don’t pray to saints.”

“Maybe we could use a little heavenly help,” she said.

“Maybe.” Everett studied it, then slipped the chain over his head and straightened the medal against his chest.

Her instinct had been right; he did appreciate it. Her quiet child, who’d always been a deep thinker, valued things like this. It was as if he was meant to have it, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Grammie had been working behind the scenes on the other side of the veil.

Lance would have said, “Cool,” and tossed it into a drawer.

And Ash? She would have frowned, decided it wasn’t fashionable enough, and tossed it into her drawer as well.

Allan joked, “Don’t lose it or we’ll have to pray to St. Anthony to find it again.”

Seriously, Everett said, “No, I won’t lose it.” And he patted the medal now lying against his T-shirt.

She said a little prayer herself that her oldest son, her firstborn, the one who’d made her a mother, would find his way out of this mess. Would find his lost self.