Before I Let You Go(20)
But Annie has never had a reason outside of herself to stick with the maintenance programs before—it’s always just been her. As I consider this, I’m startled by a burst of optimism. Maybe she can make it work this time. Maybe the baby is reason enough for her to finally, finally get her shit together.
“Good.” I breathe the word on a sigh of relief, and Eliza rises immediately.
“I’m going to go organize the prescription and we’ll increase that methadone right now—before your withdrawal gets any worse, okay? You know how this works—the symptoms will stop almost immediately.”
“Thank you,” Annie says unevenly.
“Can I speak to you for a minute, please, Alexis?” Eliza asks quietly, but there’s an undertone of tension and I realize that I’ve known Eliza for all of ten minutes and I’ve already pissed her off.
“You already discussed some of this with her?” Eliza says sharply, as soon as we are safely out of Annie’s earshot in the hallway.
“I talked to her about methadone and NAS just before the police came, yes. But why didn’t you? Shouldn’t that have been the first thing you sorted out with her?”
“I deliberately didn’t talk to her about how we’ll handle that aspect of her treatment—I wanted to speak to the addiction specialist first so that I didn’t overwhelm her before I was sure which approach to recommend. I understand that you’re her sister, Alexis, and that you’re also a GP—but I’m her specialist, and if we’re going to work together to get your sister through this pregnancy, you’re going to have to leave the medicine up to me. Are we clear on that?”
“I need to be involved in these decisions—I need to understand exactly how you’re planning on treating her,” I say stiff ly.
“Even if you were a specialist consulting obstetrician—which as I understand it, you aren’t—it’s not appropriate for you to treat your own sister. Her case is complex. She’s under my care because she needs to be. I’ll try to keep you in the loop when it’s practical, but this is the last time you tread on my toes. Right?”
Eliza and I lock eyes. She’s red-faced and frustrated, and so am I, even as I understand the logic behind what she’s saying. Wasn’t I just thinking the same thing myself this morning?
But this is Annie—my Annie—my sister, my responsibility.
Sam clears his throat behind us, and I turn to find that he’s followed us into the hallway. My frustration eases when his concerned, pleading face swims into view. I sigh, and then glance back to Eliza as I nod.
“Why don’t you concentrate your efforts on finding Annie some legal help?” Eliza suggests.
“Fine.” I sigh, and Sam takes my hand.
“Thanks, Eliza. For all of this.”
“Thank me when we get that baby safely out into the world and well,” Eliza says quietly. “There’s a long road ahead for them yet.”
It’s not as easy as I expect, but two hours and four phone calls later I find myself sitting in the offices of Bernadette Walters, attorney at law. I’m frazzled by then—if not from the multiple calls it took to find the right lawyer to actually help us—then by Sam’s determination to hover at my side while I did so.
“I’ll come with you,” he says, when I tell him the details of my appointment with the lawyer.
“I’ll be fine, Sam. Why don’t you go check in on your patients?”
“Are you sure? I mean, I’m off today so I figured I’d just tag along with you, see if I can help.”
“You really don’t need to do that,” I say. “Go and check in with your office.” He hesitates, and I sigh and pull him close for a hug. “Honestly, Sam, I’m fine. We’ve put you out enough. You don’t need to come with me to the lawyer, too.”
“I’m not ‘put out,’ Lex,” he murmurs into my hair. “I’m in this for the long haul—I’m going to do everything I can to help you help her. But I do have some things to check up on, so I’ll go to the office now and catch up with you later.” He kisses me gently, and stares into my eyes as he adds, “You’ll call if you need me?”
“Of course,” I promise, and when he finally starts to walk away, I actually feel confused. He’s crowding me a little, and given that there’s a big part of me that still wants to pretend none of this is happening, I’m relieved for the space. But I’ve also never had someone support me through a crisis before, and as I watch Sam disappear down the hallway, I miss him so much more than I would on any ordinary day.
I’ve never needed to contact a criminal lawyer before, but if I had, I didn’t imagine I would have opted for one who had a dusty office above a furniture store. But despite Bernadette Walters’s disappointing office accommodations, she comes highly recommended by the attorney Sam and I used to manage the purchase of our house. Bernadette has successfully defended a number of patients in a similar situation to Annie. She’s tall but extremely thin, and she has a frantic energy about her—she speaks at a million miles an hour and is constantly adjusting the fall of her hair around her shoulders.
I stare at her and try to figure out how old she is. She’s wearing a trendy fitted shirt and a pencil skirt, but the jewelry she’s paired it with could easily have been snatched from the wardrobe of a senior citizen. Her face is smooth, but her long dark hair is liberally streaked with gray. I average the contradictions out and decide that she’s probably in her fifties—but I could easily be twenty years off in either direction.