psychiatrists call a selfish stage,” he explained. “We spent the last twenty-seven years as parents. It’s time for us to spend some time making ourselves happy as well.”
What?! Oh, puh-leeze. He thought I was going to just bend over and take that load of bull?
“Well, I hate to burst your bubble of selfish joy, Dad, but we have a problem.” I took a deep breath. “Lulu got arrested last night.”
“What?” Instantly Dad popped back into parent mode. “What for?” he demanded.
“Drugs.”
He stared at me. “Dr-drugs?” he asked, his voice trembling. “You mean, like pot, right?”
“No, Dad, I mean like fucking crystal meth. I mean like one of the most addictive drugs on the planet. And this wasn’t her first time, either. The girl is a major druggie.”
“Oh, God.” He leaned back against the couch and shut his eyes. “I had no idea. My little baby girl. My Lulu. A drug addict?” He opened his eyes. “Are you sure they didn’t make a mistake?”
“I’m sure.”
He moaned, staring at the ceiling. “This is my fault. I should have been there for her.”
It was hard to watch. Growing up, my dad had always been in perfect control of every situation, never displaying any emotion. He was a rock, my dad. But to see him now, looking so guilty, so defeated, I felt myself soften.
“It’s no one’s fault,” I told him. “She hid it well. But now that we know, we need to help her.” What a surreal feeling, to be reassuring one’s parent. Before now, it’d always been the other way around.
He nodded. I could almost see his brain working, formulating an in-control Dad plan. “We’ll get her into rehab. Twenty-eight days. I’ll call some places right now.” He rose from the couch. “Where’s your phone book?”
I sighed in relief and went to retrieve my Yellow Pages. It was so nice to have Dad back in control. To have the responsibility and stress lifted from my shoulders. I should have gone to him in the first place.
I handed him the phone book and he put a hand on my shoulder, pulling me into a warm hug. This time I didn’t resist and buried my face in his chest. “I’m so sorry you felt you had to deal with this by yourself, Maddy,” he said. “I wish you had come to me in the first place.” He squeezed me tighter. “I love you. And nothing can change that. Not Cindi. Not a new baby. You and Lulu are still my girls and I love you both to death.”
I leaned closer into the hug, feeling warm and safe for the first time in what seemed like forever.
Daddy was back. Now everything would be okay. I hoped.
Chapter Fourteen
FROM: “David Johns”
TO: “Madeline Madison”
SUBJECT: Reardon Oil
Hi Baby Doll,
Guess what? Brock and I are getting married! Isn’t that sooo wonderful? Last night, he decided to leap out of that proverbial closet in a single bound—like Superman, only in Armani instead of that tacky spandex outfit! His dad, Senator Gorman, is absolutely pissed, of course, which makes the whole process even more delicious. Yes, I know, I’ve only known him a couple of weeks, but Maddy darling, when it’s love, it’s love!!!!
Oh, I asked Brock about that Reardon Oil company and while he said he never heard of such a business, he immediately recognized the guy in your photo. Evidently the fatso’s name is Ronald “Rocky” Rodriguez and he’s president of the Association for California Car Dealers. He and Brock’s dad evidently go way back. UCSD frat buddies or some shit like that. Rocky owns Pacific Coast Cars in San Diego. You remember those cheesy ads you always see on News 9, don’t you? “If I can’t beat their price I’ll drown myself in the Pacific!” That’s him. I totally didn’t recognize him without that goofy llama he always has with him on the TV ads. J
Anyway, on to more important topics. I found the most fabulous Vera Wang and put down a deposit. I’m going to be a June bride—isn’t that so wonderfully clichéd? Oh, and if you can make it up to San Fran, I’d love for you to be a bridesmaid.
Love and Kisses, David
I was still pretty exhausted. Yesterday my father and I spent the whole day trying to find a teen rehab facility that would take Lulu. It seemed every single place was booked solid. (Which, I thought, didn’t bode well for the future of San Diego’s youth.) In the late afternoon, we finally