Cheryl Tardif - Submerged

“I’m really sorry, Rebecca. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

“It’s probably my fault the police didn’t consider her.”

“What do you mean?”

“When Detective Zur asked me about Tracey, I said we were civil to each other, that there were no hard feelings.”

“You thought that was true. She didn’t give you any reason to think otherwise.”

“They did look into her,” she said, trying to recall what Zur had stated about Tracey right before she’d left Hinton. “She’s not living with Wesley, and no one knew they were engaged. That happy event happened a few days ago, according to Tracey. She’s never been arrested and had such nice things to tell the police about me. And since her bank records didn’t show anything unusual, the police didn’t consider her a suspect.”

“You don’t have to worry about her now.”

She nodded. “I know.”

The image of Tracey’s body falling to the floor, taking her down with her, kept replaying in her mind. The police had pulled Tracey off her, and all Rebecca had seen was the blood.

She cringed at the memory. “Wesley has her blood on his hands.”

“He almost had yours and the kids’ too.”

She blinked back tears. “Wesley told your detective friend that he’d mentioned the kids’ inheritance to her. He still claims he had nothing to do with this. He’s a good liar.” She couldn’t keep the resentment from her voice.

“And now he’s locked up. You won’t have to worry about him for a long time.”

Her gaze swept over the living room. There was so much here that reminded her of Wesley. Too much. “I think I’m going to sell the house and move.”

“Where to?”

“I don’t know. Someplace that’s quiet. That doesn’t remind me of this life I had with him.”

“Housing market kinda sucks right now.”

“What do you propose I do?”

“Wait a few months. See if the market improves, and if it does, sell then.”

She smiled. “Ever think of going into real estate?”

“No. I’ve been keeping my eyes open, though. There’s something Jane and I had planned to do.”

“What’s that?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll tell you one day. Right now, you should focus on what you’re going to do.”

She let out a small groan. “I haven’t got a clue. How does one return to normal life when things have been anything but normal?”

He leaned forward, and at first she thought he was going to touch her, but he clasped his hands in his lap. “One day at a time.”

“Speaking of which…” She took a deep breath. “Are you going to go to a meeting tonight?”

“I was planning on it. Unless you want me to stay here.”

She shook her head. “The last thing I need is a babysitter, Marcus.”

“I don’t mind staying for one night. So you’re not alone.”

“The police car outside is gone because there’s no threat. Tracey is dead and Wesley’s in jail. There’s nothing for me to be afraid of anymore. I’m safe. Besides, it’s time for you to look after yourself for a change.” She tilted her head at him. “I’d feel better if I knew you were at a meeting tonight.”

Marcus’s brow arched. “Are you worried that I might use?”

“If you did, I’d think it was my fault.” She held her breath and waited for his reply.

“It’s never anyone else’s fault,” he said. “When an addict uses, it’s his or her choice. Always.”

“Then go to a meeting. When it’s over, come back here.”

He gave her a surprised look and she added, “You can sleep on the couch. Or watch TV.”

“Why’d you change your mind?”

She looked away. “Even though I’m no longer in danger, the thought of staying in the house by myself is a bit unnerving. I’d feel better if someone else were here. Even if just for a night.”

“No problem.”

She caught his arm. “Before you go, can you do me a favor?”

“Sure thing. What do you need?”

“The doctor gave me some painkillers and something to help me sleep. They’re in my purse, by the front door. Can you put them in the kitchen by the sink? I think that’s as far as I’m going to make it. At least until you get back.”

He stared at her, his face serious and grim. “Are you testing me?”

“Huh?”

“With the drugs.”

“No!” Her eyes widened in shock. “That’s the last thing I’d do. I want those pills where I can reach them easily. That’s all.”

Marcus’s face reddened. “Sorry. I-I’m so used to suspicion, I guess.”

She waved a hand in the air. “Forget about it. I trust you.”

He watched her, skepticism etched into his face. “You’re too nice, Rebecca Kingston.”

“Nice. Oh yay. Just what every woman wants to hear.”

When he looked as though he were going to apologize again, she laughed. “I’m joking.”

She watched as he pulled on his jacket and opened the door.

Pausing in the doorway, he said, “You probably shouldn’t, you know.”

“Shouldn’t what?”

“Trust me.”

She pondered his words as the door closed behind him. Too late, Marcus.

Marcus found an NA meeting about fifteen minutes from Rebecca’s house. It was being held in the basement of a small Pentecostal church. As much as he missed the familiar crowd of his meetings back home, there was some comfort in being in a room with complete strangers. And no pressure to speak.

Last thing he wanted to do was admit how badly he craved drugs—especially after the stress of recent events. The little devil on his shoulder tried to convince him that he could have just a little bit—enough to take the edge off. The rational side of his mind—he refused to call it angelic—reminded him of the downward spiral he’d quickly go into if he used.

Listening to one man tell his story, how he’d lost everything, including his wife, kids, job and home and was now living on the streets in downtown east Edmonton, brought home the reality of drug addiction. An addict wasn’t in control; the drugs were. And there was no such thing as a small slipup. Using was using, no matter the quantity or the drug of choice.

Choices… that’s what everything comes down to.

Marcus thought about Leo. His best friend had managed to turn his life around after alcoholism and cocaine nearly ruined him. Now he was married to a great woman and had a job he enjoyed. Leo had made all the right choices.

Every morning when Marcus woke up, the first thing he did was make a choice. “Today I’m not going to use drugs, no matter the temptation. Today I will say ‘No!’”

“Anyone else have something to share?” the guy in charge of the meeting asked.

No one spoke up.

“What about you, sir, in the back row? You’re new here, and we welcome you with open arms. Feel free to share.”

Marcus nearly bolted from his chair. “I… uh… not tonight.”

“That’s okay. Maybe next time.”

Next time. It was always “next time.”

Marcus knew he had a mental block that kept him from speaking up at meetings. He’d argued with Leo over it for months. When the time was right, Marcus believed he’d know it, feel it. Leo would then give him shit and tell him it was an excuse. Nothing more.

Is it? Am I making excuses?

He thought about Rebecca. She’d been to hell and back in the last three days. He admired her inner strength. She didn’t make excuses. Not for Wesley, or herself. Not for anyone. She was the first person Marcus felt he could really talk to, about anything.

He was attracted to her. There was no denying that. No excuses either. She was a beautiful woman. Inside and out. He was perplexed by her offer of spending the night, albeit on the couch. Had she done so because she was still afraid? Or did she feel something more?