Race to Recovery (Full Throttle) Page 2

  “We’re not criminals,” Brant snapped.

  “Even hotels have surveillance in the public rooms and hallways. The people here can be unpredictable; it’s just part of the healing process. And, if I may say, the only reason you aren’t criminals is because you stopped using. I don’t think you obtained that little yellow bottle from a doctor. Now, if you’ll drop your bag off here I have your key for you and we can finish the tour.”

  As they stepped into the hallway again a young red-headed woman stepped out of a room across the hall. She flashed them a smile and then sauntered off, her narrow hips swaying.

  Dr. Hurd’s lips tightened. “There is one other policy you will need to be aware of. We do not permit romantic or sexual relationships between patients. You are here to heal yourself, not distract yourself or anyone else. Also, we do not permit any verbal, physical, or sexual harassment of other patients.”

  “You must have trouble enforcing that,” Seth said.

  “We understand that sometimes two patients who both react aggressively to the withdrawal process may have conflicts of either a verbal or physical nature. Often threats are uttered and we have had blows exchanged. We see harassment as the continual and deliberate mistreatment of another person. Breaking any of these rules results in the person being removed from the facility.”

  “It sounds like you run a tight ship,” Seth said, nodding.

  “It sounds like prison.”

  “You’d get far less privileges and privacies in prison,” Dr. Hurd pointed out. “And you can leave whenever you want. Of course we ask that patients don’t come and go. Once you’re checked in you stay until you choose to check out, or we are forced to remove you, or a doctor says you’re far enough along to the healing process to no longer need our services. Let’s finish the tour and then you can get some dinner, if you’re hungry.”

  He led the way back down the stairs. “Down the hallway there are the offices of our administrative team and our staff psychologists. You will be required to see one of our resident psychologists as often as they deem necessary as part of your recovery process. Your first appointment will be tomorrow morning, just an assessment. They’ll inform you of how often you’ll be seeing them.”

  “What if I don’t want to go at all?” Brant said. “I don’t need a shrink; I need a place to get over the withdrawal without alerting my father, that’s all.”

  “Then you’ve come to the wrong place. Our mission here is to provide healing and the tools required to enable you to stay away from your habit in the future.”

  “It sounds fine,” Seth said, jabbing the side of Brant’s foot with his toe. “I think Brant will adjust just fine.”

  “Sure,” Brant grumbled. “I’ll stay.”

  Dr. Hurd frowned but nodded. “Then let me show you the dining room. The Doctor handed Seth a small card. “Seth, just hand them this card, it’s for a complimentary meal. This way please.”

  The dining room looked like a cross between a school cafeteria and the lunch room for a fancy office building. One wall was dominated by a serving counter where patients and visitors could grab cold drinks, hot coffee, and whatever meal the kitchen staff had prepared.

  There were several long tables complete with benches that made Seth think ‘high school’ and Brant think ‘prison’ but there were also smaller round tables that sat two to four people. The room was maybe a third full and only a handful of people looked up from their food or conversation to eye the new comers.

  They made their way to the counter and each grabbed a tray from the stack. Today’s dinner was meatloaf in gravy or tomato sauce, a choice of cold pasta salad or white rice, and a salad bar.

  Seth smiled at the staff, thanking each of them as they scooped food onto his plate. Brant followed behind, sullen, answering direct questions with barely understandable grunts and offering no other conversation.

  “You could try some manners you know,” Seth said under his breath as they waited in line at the till.

  Brant grunted something that may have been affirmative but he wasn’t paying any real attention to his brother. His eyes had settled on a petite blonde sitting alone at one of the round tables. She had a delicate face with a narrow chin and fine features. Her hair was that white blonde color that babies often boasted only to have it replaced by darker shades as the years passed by. She wore a pale knit cardigan and ate with tiny movements, staring only at her plate.

  She’s like a living work of art or a porcelain doll. I wonder who she is, he thought.

  Seth glared at his brother and said, “It’s our turn.”

  Brant grudgingly turned his attention back to his brother, the line, and the woman at the till. “Cash or room number?” she said, smiling cheerfully.

  “Dr. Hurd gave me this,” Seth replied, handing over the laminated card.

  “Thank-you!” She turned to Brant. “Room number?”

  “Sixteen,” he said.

  “Thank-you. We’ll add it to your tab. Enjoy you meals.”

  “Thank-you, we will,” Seth said.

  Brant just grabbed his tray and stalked off. He selected a small round table where he could see the girl out of the corner of his eye but was still far enough away that she wouldn’t notice the attention and take offense. Seth followed a few steps behind.

  “I sure hope this is all part of the withdrawal because even for you those were some pretty bad manners. Mom would be embarrassed.”

  Brant bristled at his brother’s remark. Chloe had said something similar in New York back when he’d first broken his foot in the car accident. And then she ran off with that idiot, Trey Williams, leaving me to drive a race with a broken foot. If she had just kept her head and driven the damn race I wouldn’t have gotten hooked on the damn pills.

  Seth could see Brant had lost himself in dark thoughts so he turned to his food and to examining the room and people around him. The whole place was a well-designed cross between homey and institutional with the colour scheme carefully chosen to be neutral and soothing. The art work was the same and served more to break up the long lengths of wall than to add artistic flair to the room. Not one of the paintings could be called a conversation starter and they were as far from controversial as possible. Still, they’re technically accurate and better than anything I could paint.

  The lighting was brighter here than in the common room. Or maybe it only seems that way because the linoleum reflects more light than the carpet.

  His gaze wandered to the other tables. There was a fair mix of men and women and he guessed they were all between the ages of thirty and forty making Brant one of the youngest in the room. He turned to his brother again and noted, not for the first time, that Brant’s appearance had aged since they had returned from New York. Seth had thought it was the stress but now he was rethinking that. Maybe the others are younger than they look too.

  His gaze wandered until it came to the lonely blonde. Her hair was so pale it looked thin and her shoulders were hunched defensively. She stared at her plate with the intensity of a person trying to be invisible. She looks lost and helpless, he thought, his heart aching for this vulnerable stranger.

  He sighed and looked at Brant. “Did you make arrangements for me or am I sleeping in the car?”

  “Don’t be stupid, you can’t sleep in the car,” Brant snapped.

  “Thank-you for that. Did you want me to check in too?”

  Brant glared. “You could check into a hotel.”

  “With what money? And how the hell are you paying for this place, anyway?”

  “I have a little money saved up, don’t you?”

  “Sure I do, but I need tools and parts and I was hoping to get a new car for me before mine dies on the road and causes a wreck.”

  “Look, just get the damn hotel room,” he growled and slammed his fork down on the table. “I’ll pay you back from my next cheque.”

  “The sponsors won’t pay us anything more until you race again and the advance they gave you was
eaten up by medical bills.”

  “Well, I plan to win so it’ll be a fat cheque, all right? I’ll pay Mom back, I’ll pay you back, and I’ll still have some left over. Okay?”

  “Fine. Have it your way. Do you want me to hang out here until eight?”

  “Whatever you want,” Brant said with a shrug.

  “Then I’ll go right after dinner to find a motel.”

  “And just leave me here, bored to tears? Some brother you are.”

  Seth shook his head. “I won’t miss these mood swings. Would you just make up your mind? Am I staying or going?”

  “Staying.”

  Seth sighed. “Fine.”

  They went back to their meals and Brant’s eyes wandered back to the blonde only to find that she had finished eating and disappeared from the room. Cursing his brother’s timing and his own horrid luck he shovelled the food into his mouth without tasting it.

  Seth noted the young woman’s disappearance with mild disappointment and a mental shrug. The food was nowhere near as good as their mother made but then Seth had thought the same thing about the food at the Plaza Hotel in New York City. Still, the gravy is thick and flavourful, the meatloaf wasn’t too dry, the rice is fluffy and the salad is crisp. You can’t really ask more than that from a place like this.

  After dinner they went up to Brant’s room, both scanning the common room for the blonde they’d seen at dinner. She wasn’t there but the redhead from the hallway gave them a sultry smile over the top of her magazine. Brant didn’t even notice, Seth only smiled politely and continued on his way.

  Once alone in the only private place available to them Brant said, “You have to bring me food tomorrow, I can’t live like this.”

  “Brant, the food is fine. Next time get the gravy instead of the tomato sauce.”

  “Can it, Seth. A few chocolate bars for the evenings would be good. It’s too bad bread doesn’t come in sealed bags or I could live off of sandwiches for the week or so I’m here. Crackers will have to do. With peanut butter.”

  “Brant, they’re serving real food here. Okay, the sauces sit under a warming light and the rice is probably of the instant variety but you could do far worse. I’ll see about getting you some snacks but that’s it.”

  “A bottle of pop, too. Too bad about the coffee, I would kill for a real cup from a coffee shop, so hot it burns your tongue, and blacker than night.”

  “Brant, you’re not listening. I can’t afford all that!”

  “I’ll pay you back!”

  “Unless you pay upfront I just don’t have the money for all your groceries for who knows how long, and a car part for our cover story, and a motel room.”

  “Don’t do this to me Seth, I’m counting on you. This place is like a prison.”

  “You can leave whenever you want.”

  “You know damn well that I can’t. If I leave now I’ll go straight back to that drug dealer and buy another bottle of that crap. I can feel it, Seth. I’d kill for those damn pills. I don’t want to take them, I don’t want to ruin my career, I know how bad it would be to pop even one more but I want one. Hell, I want a bottle of them, just for the comfort of having the damn things in my hand.”

  Seth scrubbed his face with his hands. “Okay. All right. I’ll do what I can. I have to call Mom tonight and let her know we’ve arrived somewhere safe and sound.”

  “Yeah, yeah, just don’t mention rehab, whatever you do.”

  “I don’t like lying to her, Brant.”

  “You don’t like lying to anyone but you told Chloe and Dad we were going to pick up parts. Just keep up the story.”

  “Brant, it’s not going to take us a week, or two, or three, to pick up parts. At some point I’ll need a better story.”

  “Then make one up! Dammit Seth, I don’t care what you tell them as long as you don’t mention drugs or rehab to anybody! Just take care of it, okay?”

  Seth’s shoulders slumped, defeated. Taking care of it was all he ever did. “Okay, fine. Look, I’m exhausted from all that driving, can I go find a motel now?”

  “And what am I supposed to do?!”

  “You could go down and watch TV, or maybe even pick up a book. It wouldn’t kill you to read a little more.”

  “You sound like Mom. Look, I don’t want to go down there and be all buddy-buddy with a bunch of druggies and alcoholics.”

  Seth’s lips thinned and he nodded. “You know you are sort of one of them now.”

  “I am not like them!”

  “Okay, calm down, I didn’t ….”

  “I’m not some low-life scum. I have never stolen money to pay for drugs. I’m no whore or pimp. I didn’t pawn any family heirlooms or throw a race or take a bribe, or anything else illegal. I never forgot a birthday because I was out getting drunk or high or whatever these people do. I have no plans to go back to that damn drug and I had no intention of getting hooked in the first place.”

  “You think these people wanted to get hooked?”

  “You have a choice to smoke up or snort or whatever. The doctors made me take the pain killers. After the last race the pain was so bad that I might have taken them too often but even that wasn’t my fault. I didn’t want to drive and reinjure my foot but Chloe pulled out and left me high and dry. If she had done her job I wouldn’t be here right now with all these lowlifes.”

  “Brant, you need to calm down. These rooms aren’t bugged but there’s no telling how thin the walls are. You don’t want to make enemies in here.”

  “I don’t care what these losers think. I won’t be here long and I don’t plan on getting to know anyone.”

  “Dr. Hurd said some of the people here are aggressive. You don’t want to get into any fights.”

  He barked a laugh. “What are they going to do? Put me in solitary confinement? You said it yourself, this is no prison.”

  “The can kick you out.”

  “Oh shut up, Seth. They’re not going to kick me out because some junkie picks a fight with me.”

  “Fine, whatever Are we going to sit and bitch for the next hour or did you have something for us to do?”

  “I don’t play board games. They’re stupid. Cards are just as pointless.”

  Seth sat back and crossed his arms. “Fine. You bitch, I’ll nap. Wake me up at eight.” He closed his eyes and ignored Brant’s swearing.

  * * * *

  The closest motel was five minutes back the way he’d come and it wasn’t a pretty place. At least two of the rooms had cardboard covering holes in the windows and his key didn’t work in the lock. He had to wait for the overnight maintenance man to show up before he could get it fixed since the girl at the desk had no clue what to do.

  Seth dropped his bag on the only chair and shook his head. The bed looked okay but the carpet was dingy, the ceiling had water stains in several places, and the rest of the furniture looked more than gently used and slightly mismatched.

  He headed to the phone and dialed home. He’d planned out his story in the car but as the phone kept ringing his heart pounded harder and his free hand began to feel clammy. “Come on,” he muttered, “Pick up.”

  With any luck he’d get Chloe—their mother was notorious for being able to smell a lie, even over the phone.

  Finally the phone stopped ringing, mid-tone, and the connection clicked through. “Hello!”

  He only noticed he’d been holding his breath when it all escaped in a sigh of relief. “Chloe.”

  “Seth! We were starting to get worried. Where are you?”

  “In a motel in Utah.”

  “Hold on.” She covered the mouth piece but he could still hear the sound of muffled voices. “Okay, Seth, I’m glad you’re both okay. Mom wants to talk to you.”

  “No, Chloe, just give her a message for …”

  “Hi Seth,” his mom said.

  “Hi Mom.”

  “Chloe said something about Utah?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. We’re in a cheap motel here. Brant j
ust ran out to pick up some sandwiches.”

  “So late? You are taking care of yourselves, right?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. We’re west of you, it’s only nine pm here, it must be eleven there. I shouldn’t have called so late.”

  “Don’t worry about the time, Seth. It’s nice to hear from you. How long will you be out there?”

  “I’m not sure, really. I think that last race was harder on Brant than he’s letting on. I think he wants to clear his head, forget how close he came to losing his career, and his life, and refocus before coming home.” It was as close to the truth as he could get without blowing Brant’s cover and he hoped it wouldn’t smell like a lie.

  “All right. Your dad’s not going to like this but you take as long as you need to. I always thought he pushed this racing thing too hard.”

  “I’ll keep in touch, I promise. And I won’t call so late next time.”

  “And call collect. I’m sure the motel doesn’t have great long-distance coverage.”

  “Are you sure? I know things are tight on the farm.”

  “We can afford the occasional long-distance call, Seth. Now, take care of yourself, and your brother.”

  “I will. Good-night, Mom.”

  “Good-night, Seth.”

  Mom hung up the phone and stared at her daughter for a long moment. “Well, those boys are up to something.”

  “How do you know? Did he say something?”

  “Brant’s as stubborn and closed in as your father; he’s not out there getting in touch with his feelings. Besides, Seth’s lying about something.”

  “So why not call him on it and get the full story?”

  “The same reason I didn’t call you on your lie when you phoned from New York. You’re all grown-ups now and whatever they’re dealing with they’ll have to deal with without me.”

  Chloe shook her head. “I can’t wait to see the look on Seth’s face when he hears this one.”

  Chapter Two

  Brant was up early out of habit. He sat in his room until eight am and then began to pace. By 8:30 he was hungry and tired of waiting for Seth and the pacing was making his foot ache. Seth is smart enough to find me. I might as well go choke down some breakfast while I wait.