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That’s it. She’s taking something to dull her misery.
“Can I see what it is?”
“What are you taking?”
“Just some stuff.”
“Can I see the stuff?”
“Sure, it’s in the bathroom upstairs.”
I head upstairs with her on my heels. Three bottles of pills sit on the counter, all prescribed by different doctors and filled at different pharmacies. My fear is that she’s mixing them.
“Did you take these together?”
“Maybe, I don’t remember. I had some wine.”
“Fuck Lana, you can’t do that. You can kill yourself.”
“It’s no big deal. Declan wouldn’t care, and I know you wouldn’t. If you did, you wouldn’t have left me the way you did.”
“Baby, I would be so fucked up if something happened to you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“When did you take these pills?”
“I dunno, maybe a half-hour ago. I was watching Sixteen Candles when I did. Remember we watched it together? I should have stayed with you. I should have, then you wouldn’t have left me.”
“What part was it up to in Sixteen Candles? Do you remember?”
“When the grandparents come to the house. That part was so funny.”
I check my watch and then turn on the television. It’s about fifteen minutes from when that part played. I’m going to make her throw up and hope it helps, or else we’re going to the hospital.
“Lana, you need to throw up.”
“No, why?”
“No, I mean, you have to throw up. Stick your fingers down your throat.”
“That’s gross, Zane.”
“Do it, and we can be friends again. I need you to throw up.”
“It’s not very ladylike to do that.”
“Do it, or I take you to the hospital. You wouldn’t want to embarrass Declan, would you?”
She starts to cry. “No, he’ll be so disappointed. He told me never to do that. Never to make a fool of him in public.”
Fucking bastard. How much browbeating does he do to Lana? He needs her to be the perfect companion while he fucks around behind her back.
“Then, you need to do this for me.”
She leans over the toilet, and I hold her hair while she thrusts her fingers down her throat several times. It finally works, and up comes the contents of her stomach. Its little food, but I find two pills floating in the dark-colored liquid. She must have had a glass of red wine, which she shouldn’t with antidepressants.
Lana drops to her knees as another blast of vomit comes from her. She starts crying, and I reach over to flush the toilet then drop to the floor to pull her onto my lap. She’s inconsolable, and I rock her in my arms.
