The Perfect Life (36 page)

“Hello, this is Monroe,” I said around the thick knot of dread in the back of my throat, my eyes trained on Oliver’s face.

“Monroe, it’s Dr. Prince,” the familiar voice greeted me, her tone solemn. “Sorry to bother you so early. I wasn’t even sure if you were in town or not, but I knew you’d want to know as soon as possible with something this serious.”

I choked back a sob, unconsciously grabbing Oliver’s hand and squeezing. “Know what? How serious? Who?”

“Heather found JoJo unconscious in her bed around seven this morning, and once the morning advisor was notified, she discovered any empty bottle of Tylenol PM in her nightstand, as well as a Ziploc baggie with some other pills in it too,” she explained. “I hate to speculate, but it appears to be a suicide attempt. She was rushed to Boston Children’s Hospital, which is where I am with her now, and after they performed a quick evaluation in the ER, they’re moving her to ICU. It’s not looking good.”

An onslaught of emotions surged through me, and unfortunately, anger surfaced first. “Why in the hell am I just now finding out about this, Jessica? I should’ve been contacted as soon as the 911 call ended. She’s my fucking kid, and you’re telling me you didn’t think to let me know until the point they admitted her to Intensive Care?!”

“Monroe, I know you’re upset—”

“Hell yes, I’m upset!” I screamed, jumping off the bed with Oliver hot on my heels. “But I don’t have time to list all the ways right now, because I needed to be on my way to the hospital
a fucking hour ago!”

I didn’t even bother ending the call as I slung the phone across the room and watched it shatter into hundreds of pieces against the wall. Spinning around, I found Oliver already dressed in the jeans and thermal he’d worn over the night before and putting his shoes on, acting before I said a word to him.

“Grab your keys and boots, baby. Let’s go,” he announced with a stern expression. “I’m driving your car, and you can catch me up with what’s going on as you give me directions to the hospital.”

“But—” I tried to argue, but he was having nothing of it.

Framing my face with his hands, he lowered his forehead to mine and pinned me with his arresting gaze. “There’s no way I’m letting you get behind a wheel in the state you’re in, so don’t even think about fighting me on this. Not to mention, I love you too damn much to allow you to face this alone. Remember . . . you and me? We’re a
we
.”

In record time from my house to the hospital, the second the transmission shifted to park, Oliver and I fled the car and sprinted inside to the ICU floor. Words were scarce once I’d filled him in with what had happened with JoJo, though the steady stream of tears hadn’t stopped since I’d gotten the call. So many questions raced through my mind.
Why would she do this? What happened since I’d seen her just the day before at lunch and she seemed so happy? Had the progress I thought I was making with her all been a farce? Did someone hurt her?

But unfortunately, I had no answers.

A large U-shaped nurse’s station awaited us when we exited the elevators onto the seventh floor, and without hesitation, I marched straight up to the first woman in scrubs I saw.

“Hi, I’m Monroe Cassidy, here for JoJo Merritt. Can you tell me where she is? Is she okay?” I blurted out, my good manners gone by the wayside.

As if she had all the time in the world, as if kids weren’t fighting for their lives just beyond the locked double doors behind her, she smiled and nodded then glanced down at the computer screen in front of her. “Good morning, Ms. Cassidy. I see you have been included on the list of authorized visitors for Miss Merritt, so I’m just going to need to make a copy of your ID and then I can buzz you through.”

Reaching down to grab my wallet from my purse, I gasped and stumbled backward when I realized I didn’t have it with me.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Oliver asked from behind me.

“My purse!” I cried, my eyes wide with horror. “I forgot my purse at home in our rush to leave. I need my ID.”

“Okay, okay, just calm down,” he soothed, placing his warm, strong hand at the small of my back. “Let’s ask if they can make an exception just this once. Surely someone in this place knows who you are and can vouch for you.”

I nodded mindlessly as my chest began to painfully constrict, but said nothing. Oliver approached the nurse and explained the situation to her, and even though she kept the smile plastered across her face, she shook her head and said, “I’m sorry, but it’s hospital policy. No one is allowed into the ICU area unless we have a copy of their identification in the patient’s chart.”

“But she’s Monroe Cassidy! Her husband is Colin Cassidy for chrissakes. You have to know she is who she says she is,” he contended, firmly pounding his fist on the counter with annoyance.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t care if she’s the First Lady. These rules are non-negotiable for the safety of our patients. Once Ms. Cassidy has her ID, I’ll be happy to escort her back and alert Miss Merritt’s charge nurse of her arrival.”

Defeated at the finality of her words, I clung to Oliver’s arm and bawled into his chest, my ability to think straight shot.

“Shh, baby,” he whispered while leading me over to the deserted waiting room. “Don’t worry; we’ll get you back there shortly. You stay here in case Dr. Prince or anyone else comes out, and I’ll run to your house to get your purse. Do you know where it is?”

I cried harder. “I don’t want you to go. Please don’t leave me here by myself. What if she dies? What if they come out and say she’s gone? I need you here with me.”

Oliver held me close to his side as he dug his phone out of his pocket. “What about Effie? Didn’t you mention she or Seth had a key to your place?”

“Seth does, but I don’t know his number off the top of my head. It was programmed in the phone that I destroyed.”

He thought for a minute, then said, “Okay, well let me call Effie and see if she can get ahold of him or get the key. Where’s your purse at when they get inside?”

“In my closet, hanging on the hook in the closet,” I blubbered, not even thinking about specifying Seth needed to be the one to go in my closet.

Absentmindedly kissing the top of my head, he squeezed my hand for support and then made the call. Less than thirty minutes later, with no more information than we had before, Effie and Seth emerged from the elevators, looking like they’d both freshly rolled out of bed, but most importantly, she was carrying my purse.

“Oh, my God, Monroe, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe this. Tell me what I can do to help!” she exclaimed as she handed me the small black cross-body then glanced inquisitively over at Oliver.

Seth spoke with his actions first, wrapping me in a big bear hug and kissing the top of my head. “Please, Roe girl, talk to us. How can we help?” he urged after releasing me.

“I uh,” I sniffled and wiped my wet cheeks with the back of my hand, “I haven’t called Colin yet. I threw my phone and it broke, and I just haven’t thought about it. Plus, he doesn’t need this today. I don’t want him to worry about anything but the game.”

“Your flight to Denver was scheduled for eleven-thirty, right?” Effie asked as she grabbed her phone and started typing on the screen. “Let me get that cancelled for you and then we can decide what to do about Colin. He’ll be just as worried if you don’t show, so I think you need to let him know something.”

Nodding, I stepped back and rummaged through my purse for my wallet. “Okay, I’m gonna go back there now and see what I can find out. Do you guys mind waiting here for a little bit? I’d rather wait to call him once I know more about her condition.”

The three of them all agreed, and after I provided my license and signed the visitor log, I made my way back to where JoJo was, praying the entire way. Dr. Prince was the only one in the room with her when I quietly opened the door and let myself in. Gratefully, it appeared as if she’d already forgiven me for my outburst on the phone earlier as she rushed to greet me.

“Monroe, you’re here! Thank God! I’ve been trying to call you!” she whisper-shouted as she enfolded her arms around me. “I’m so sorry about everything this morning. It was all so chaotic. I should’ve called you first.”

Waving off her apology, I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. I just freaked out and my phone took the brunt of it. Now tell me what you know so far.”

For the next several minutes, she rattled off a bunch of medical terminology and explained what all of the machines, wires, and tubes were for as I stared down at the frail, lost, comatose young girl who I’d grown to love like my own child over the past few years, all boiling down to the fact that JoJo had purposely swallowed a toxic amount of acetaminophen and a handful of Xanax, from what the toxicology report showed, in a blatant attempt to end her own life. And though she’d been unsuccessful at her ultimate goal for the time being, she’d managed to seriously mess up all kinds of things internally, most importantly her liver and kidneys, which were failing.

Devastated doesn’t even begin to describe the anguish and sorrow I felt that morning. I was so angry, so hurt, so confused. How could she do this? Why did she feel that was the only answer? Had I not done enough?

“Don’t blame yourself for this, Monroe,” she whispered as if she could read my thoughts. “It’s the natural reaction we all have, but her decision to do this was hers, and it had nothing to do with what you did or didn’t do. The doctor will be back soon with more information on what the next step is as they try to detoxify her body and what we can expect. I need to step outside to make a few phone calls, and I’m sure you’d like a few minutes alone.”

As promised, Dr. Prince left the room for about ten minutes, leaving me alone with JoJo, and the entire time, I wept uncontrollably. Seeing her like that, lifeless in the hospital bed with all of those needles stuck in her arms, a tube down her throat, and a respirator helping her breathe, simply proved to be too much for me. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Not like this.

Once the director of the DCF returned, I excused myself to go back out to the waiting room, where Oliver and Seth were huddled up talking and Effie stood off to the side on her phone. As soon as Oliver saw me turn the corner, he jumped up and came straight to me, wrapping me in his strong arms, offering me comfort the only way he knew how. I repeated to them the information I’d been given and my plan to stay at the hospital for the foreseeable future, and as much as I knew he didn’t want to make the call, Seth dialed up Colin and explained to him what had happened, in which he then asked to talk to me.

“I’m so sorry, Monroe. I wish I could be there for you right now, sweetheart. I love you so much,” he said as soon as I got on the phone, triggering another round of waterworks as I not only thought about JoJo’s critical state, but also about the guilt that weighed on me for keeping Oliver a secret from him.

For a long time, Colin was what made my life worth living. He was my happy place, my shining star. Colin loved me when I didn’t know how to let someone love me and had never let me down. I never set out to hurt him, but at this point, it seemed inevitable.

“I’ll be okay,” I assured him once the tears let up. “Please don’t worry about me. You need to concentrate on the game today. I’ll be here when you get back tomorrow. Just say a little prayer for JoJo.”

After we talked a little longer and said our goodbyes, the phone call ended and I thanked Seth and Effie for everything, letting them know they didn’t need to hang around the hospital. In typical Seth-fashion, he hugged and kissed my cheek, insisting if I needed anything else to let him know, but strangely, before he stepped away, Seth smiled at Oliver and reiterated, “If she needs anything at all, no matter how small, you call me. You’ve got my number now. She’s not to be alone, like we talked about.”

Oliver tipped his chin in agreement and extended his arm in Seth’s direction. “You have my word, man. Thanks again for saving us with the purse, and I’ll make sure she gets home safely tonight.”

My already-frazzled mind couldn’t quite comprehend what that was all about, and before I could shoot either of them a questioning look, Effie appeared in front of me, looping her arm around my neck and pulling me into a hug. A very un-Effie-like thing to do.

“Me too, Monroe. Whatever you or Oliver needs,” she repeated her brother’s sentiments. Moving as if she was about to leave, she stopped and turned around then smiled hesitantly. “Oh hey, I saw your ticket for the game today sitting on your bar when I grabbed your purse earlier. Do I need to do anything with it? Contact the Pat’s front office or anything?”

“No.” I shook my head, having not even thought about anything as miniscule as that with the severity of everything else going on. “I don’t think there’s anything they can do, unless you know someone who’s going to be in Denver tonight.”

Her eyes flickered with hope. “Actually, I was toying with the idea of catching a last-minute flight out there. I just checked online and there are seats available on the flight you were scheduled for. That is, if you don’t need me for anything around here today or tomorrow.”