She’s so fucking thin. Her knees are pulled to her chest. The satin robe she always wears pooling around her.
“You eat anything today?”
She shrugs, and I know that means she didn’t.
“We talked about this,” I say, moving around the room and picking things up. “It’s the middle of the day. You can’t just not eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” she mutters.
I sigh, facing her. “How much longer are you gonna do this? It’s been over a year.”
She looks up at me, her eyes hollow. “If I just had something to …”
“I’m not giving you more coke. The pills are bad enough.”
“I want to get better,” she pushes. “I do, really. I just need some help getting started. Something to help me get out of bed, you know?”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“I messed up last time. This time, it’ll be different.”
“No.”
“Jameson,” she pleads. “Come on; don’t you want me to be better.Iwant to be better.”
“Of course I do, but—”
“I just need a jumpstart.” She shifts forward. “That’s it.”
I sit on the edge of the bed. “You can do it without the coke.”
She shakes her head.
“Just take it one thing at a time.”
“You don’t fucking get it,” she snaps.
“Oh, I don’t get it.” I scoff. “You think this shit is easy for me? That I don’t wish I had the privilege of locking myself in my room and forgetting that this is my life.”
“It’s not the same.”
“You know how long I had to get it together after that night? About five fucking minutes. And do you know where you were when I was losing it?”
She stares back at me.
“Passed out drunk in this bed.”
She flinches.
“I tried to coddle you. Give you time. But I’m not gonna just sit back and watch you kill yourself. Watch you fucking disappear.”
“I’m not—”
“So, here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna get up and shower. Then you’re gonna come sit in the kitchen,not in this bed, and eat something.”
She pulls her robe tightly around herself. “Who do you think you are giving me orders like that?”
I stand. “I tried to be your son, but you didn’t respond to that. So now I’ll be the one thing you actually will respond to.”