of the outside, and there were posters on the walls, all displaying messages with positive reinforcements.
Johanna sat down and encouraged her two men to do the same. “This room feels nice,” she said. “I really hope Grady is embracing the help.”
“Me too,” Graham stated.
“He better. This is his last chance,” George blurted. Johanna and Graham looked at him askance. He shrugged. “Doc said, right?” They both nodded. “All right, then. He better figure it out, because I’d like to have my son back.”
Graham wanted to jump up and down. He wanted to fall to his knees and thank whoever showed his father the light, because if they could show Grady a united family front, maybe, just maybe, they could all heal together.
The door opened, and Grady and his therapist walked in. Grady sat in the chair closest to their mother. Compared to the last time Graham saw his brother, Grady looked a bit healthier but still had sunken eyes and hollowed cheekbones. He was clean shaven, his hair combed, and he wore hospital-issued clothing. Grady didn’t say hi or offer anyone a hug. Instead, he looked down at the ground and let his therapist do all the talking.
“I’m Sonny Andrews.” He shook hands with everyone before sitting down. “I want to thank you for coming, as it is imperative for Grady’s recovery to know his family supports him.”
Dr. Andrews relaxed in his chair and looked at each of them. “I want to go over what Grady and I have been working on. When you’re an addict, you have many wars within yourself. Not only is your body fighting against your decision to get clean, but the war also makes you second-guess yourself and the people surrounding you. Grady is slowly working through events and has accepted that his road to recovery is going to be harder than anticipated. He has some anger issues to work on, self-deprecation and esteem issues, and the overall feeling that he doesn’t belong on earth.
“I ask that you listen, answer his questions, and tell him your fears and how we can work together to make Grady’s time in rehab more meaningful. Grady, you indicated earlier that you’d like to start.”
He nodded, moved his hospital-issued shoes around, and cleared his throat. “My family thinks I’m a failure, and I believe they wish I would’ve died that night.”
That night. The one that haunted everyone.
“Oh, Grady,” Johanna choked out. She reached for his hand, but he pulled it away. Graham saw how his brother was breaking their mom’s heart.
“Why do you feel this way, Grady?”
“I can see it in their eyes. I can sense it when I’m around them. They don’t want me anymore.”
“That’s not true,” Johanna said. “We want you, Grady. Why do you think we’ve been doing what we have all these years?”
“Which is what, Mrs. Chamberlain?”
Johanna stilled. Graham watched as his mother shut down. She would never admit to an outsider their part in Grady’s addiction, but Graham would. “We’ve enabled from the beginning,” he started and glanced quickly at his father. “At first, we called it coping. What he experienced the night in question—we never actually knew how it affected him; we only assumed, so we drank with him. We got him drunk, held him while he vomited all over the place, picked him up in the middle of the night, and drove him home. I can admit it was nice forgetting everything or at least putting a foggy haze over what transpired. But then, weeks turned into a month, which turned into two, three became four, and a year later, he was still drunk, and we still enabled. It’s been a very long and difficult fifteen and a half years, and Grady hasn’t seen a sober day since, and until recently, my family has always given him a safe place to drink.”
“That would be the Whale Spout?” Dr. Andrews asked.
Graham nodded. “The bar has been in our family for generations. I now co-own it with my father, and I firmly believe the reason my dad won’t relinquish the rest of his ownership is because he wants Grady to be able to drink there freely.”
“Do you disagree, Mr. Chamberlain?” All eyes were on the patriarch of the family. George was uncomfortable under the scrutiny but nodded.
“I didn’t want my son to go without or for him to be one of the people you see on the street corner. I tried to protect him. I thought if he had a roof over his head, warm