Page 160 of Hooking Up
"Sweetie, we have done that." His mother cuts a tiny piece of chicken, brings it to her mouth, chews, swallows.
"No, you've threatened. But you always bail her out. You need to stop. To pull away her safety net." His voice wavers for a second then it's back to confident. "It sucks. I get that. I don't want Bree to die either. But you're not helping her like this. That money is just going to more needles in her arm. She needs to know you mean it, that she can't live here in exchange for a rehab stint a year."
"Walker, sweetie. You don't understand how hard it is for her. She's trying. She goes to meetings every week, sometimes twice a week. She goes to therapy. She wants to get better." His mom takes another tiny bite.
I mix my chicken with rice, scoop a bite. It's amazing, rich, tender, fresh. The tomato sauce is creamy and tangy in equal measures. But it still doesn't taste good.
I can feel every bit of Walker's hurt. His frustration. Like it's mine.
Is this how relationships are supposed to go?
It was never like this with Ross. Not even close.
Walker's voice is low. Hurt. "I know she's trying."
"You do?" I sound more surprised than I mean to.
"Yeah." He runs his hand through his hair. "Part of her wants to get better. But that's not enough. It's not working. I need you guys on my side. I'll be the bad cop. But I still need you to back me up."
His mom turns to his dad. They share a knowing look.
She turns back to him. "And what if she says no and she leaves? Where are we then?"
"Where are we now?" he asks.
"She's with us. She's safe," his mom says.
"Not from herself." His hand curls into a fist.
I reach for him. Place my palm on his wrist.
His fist unfurls. He looks to me like I'm his lifeline, the only person who understands him.
"She checked out of rehab early. How long do you really think it will be until she's using everyday again?" he asks.
His mom frowns.
Hurt seeps into his voice. "This is it for me. I can't keep rescuing Bree. If she doesn't get clean this time, I'm walking."
I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. That's the right decision. The mature, healthy decision.
But it's not easy.
I squeeze his hand.
He squeezes back.
"She's your sister," his mom says.
"I know." He stares at his plate. Mixes chicken and rice. "But I'd rather be an asshole than an enabler."
His mom looks to me like I have all the answers. "What do you think, Iris?"
Okay, this is it. I need to nail it.
"I don't know Sabrina, but Walker filled me in on her history." Under the table, I squeeze harder. "There isn't one answer with addiction, but whatever you've been doing hasn't been working. You need to draw that line. You need to make sure she knows that staying high isn't an option. That it means she's out of the house and out of your lives."
His mom swallows hard. "And if she chooses staying high?"
