It was around midnight, and Andrea's roommate, Laura, was crawling through the window with her new boyfriend. It did not seem fair. A week had gone by already at this treatment center and not one special person had even looked in Andrea's direction. Any time she did not spend in lectures, group therapy or in the dining hall, she spent sitting on her bed, witnessing the unfolding of a budding romance.

Then, there was that older lady, Hazel, in Andrea's morning and afternoon Group. This woman had already met someone while she was here, too. In fact, she was even making plans to start a new life with him after the month of treatment was over.

But now, late at night, there was a lot of whispering going on, and a little bit of kissing. Andrea's curtain was closed so at least she did not have to watch. There was some more scuffling at the window. The lovebirds must have kissed some more, and were saying goodbye.

"See you at breakfast in the morning, Laura," came the hushed voice of the man about to depart through the window.

"Kay."

Finally, there was a shutting noise, and Andrea could hear the girl settling herself into bed.

"Laura?"

"Oh," said the girl. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah. The counselor came in tonight and wondered where you were. She said your parents were waiting for you at that Family Night thing.."

"Oh. Really? You didn't go, either?"

"I didn't feel like it. They just said I was feeling sorry for myself. But Laura, they really came for you. Your parents were there and they were worried."

"Oh yeah, well. They're the ones who put me in this place. Let 'em worry."

"But they care about you. I mean, you've got support. I didn't even have any family show up for me. That's why I didn't go. Why should I?"

"Who put you in here, then?"

"I did. I drove myself in here by myself. To get fixed."

"Well then, you're crazy. All these rules and counselors and junk. I feel like I'm in jail."

Andrea thought for a moment about her life outside of this place, about her apartment and about her job. She remembered how she had called in one morning, shaking, confused, hung over for the last time, and had announced she was driving herself out to a treatment enter that very minute, and that she would be back in a month. This message she had given to one of her co-workers, not waiting around long enough to find out how her employer reacted. It was possible that there would be no job waiting for her when she got out.

"You're lucky you've got somewhere secure to go to after this month is up," she said.

"Yeah, well."

Laura's lamp flicked on. Then a compact mirror clicked open. She was probably checking out her hair.

"You're lucky you live alone, and don't have parents on your case all the time keeping you from having any fun."

Andrea thought of a phone call she had received that last night at home, in her apartment. It was on a Sunday night, and she had been drinking, determined to head out for treatment the following morning. The call was from a very disturbed man who had been watching her at the local bar where she worked. He told her he had always loved her, and he wanted to get together some time. She had been feeling lonely, and in a drunken revenge toward all the bleakness of her life, she had agreed to it. She had probably even encouraged it. Now she was hoping the whole conversation would blow over. Surely she would not be held accountable to any sloppy words she uttered on the night before she went in to get herself overhauled.

Laura's light clicked back off. Then the bed rustled around for a while until she got comfortable again.

"Do you think Henry's cute?"

"Sure."

"What about that guy Hazel's seeing? He's kind of old, isn't he, but then she is too, I guess that's about right. Hazel's married thought, isn't she?

"Yeah," yawned Andrea. "She's in my Group. She's thinking about leaving her husband and starting a new life."

"With that guy?"

"I guess. I don't know. She's rich, she can do anything she wants."

"At least she doesn't have to live with her parents."

Andrea thought again about her apartment. She was a month behind on her payments. She did not dare even think about what this space and time in treatment might do to her home situation. In some ways, she hoped it would never end.

******

In the mornings, everyone read the daily mail. Then, group therapy would start. Andrea was surprised to be handed a letter which was addressed to her. She looked closely at the scrawl on the envelope, and then at the name on the return. Calvert County Jail it read. She opened the letter with a feeling of doom.

Deer Andura
Hi babee I yore man Joey. I not fogot what we talk about sunday thay make me go to jail I so bad I git drunk I well be shurr and see you wen you git out tha place and than wee git booga loo Joey

Andrea felt a wave of nausea when she put the letter back in its envelope. She wanted to wash her hands. She wanted to wash out her heart. She wanted to be free of this fear that she had. She was glad she was on her way to group therapy, as she tucked the letter in her pocket and started down the long, narrow hall.

As soon as all the chairs were arranged in a circle of about ten people, and the counselor had led the gathering in a morning affirmation, the meeting began.

"Now," said Gail, the leader of the group. "Does anyone have a pressing problem they need to share with us this morning?"

Andrea raised her hand. "I do," she said "I got a letter today. It's from a person who is out of control with his life, and he's kind of dangerous, and carries guns around and the night before I came here he called, see, I work in a tavern, and so I'm kind of exposed to a lot of troubled people. Well anyway, I was home drunk that night, Sunday night, and feeling really alone and he called, and before I knew it I was saying all these things to him about seeing him when I get out of treatment. I was drunk, I didn't really mean it. Now he's in jail for some kind of trouble he's gotten into, and he's counting on us getting together once I'm out of here, and he's out of there. I don't know how I'm going to handle it. Can I get some feedback, please?"

The circle of people sat in silence. Finally, one of the members spoke.

"Sounds to me, Andrea, like you just have to take it one day at a time."

The rest of the group nodded in agreement. Then, the counselor spoke.

"Andrea, we all have messes in our lives to go back to, but the important thing is that you're here, and when you do go back, you'll be sober.. Now. Hazel? Let's get back to your problem."

"But wait," Andrea started to say, then she sat back, bewildered.

"Well," began Hazel. "My husband showed up at Family Night last night, and I didn't know how to go about telling him that I want to leave him when I get out. We just don't have the same interests any more. For instance. One day I wanted to take a walk, and all he wanted to do was read. I can't live like that. So I just got drunk, instead. But now that I'll be sober, I won't be able to handle being ignored like that. I've met this really nice guy in treatment here who likes to walk around the grounds here with me, and we will probably continue seeing each other. What should I do?"

Andrea thought about the letter burning in her pocket.

****

It was late at night again, and Laura was climbing through the window with her boyfriend. The two were giggling and bumping against each other and trying excitedly to be quiet.

"Shhh," whispered Laura. She's asleep. I'll just get a few things." She started opening and closing her bureau drawers in the dark.

"It's okay, I'm not asleep," drawled Andrea. What are you doing?"

Laura turned on the light. "Andrea, I'm leaving. Henry and I are going to run away."

"You're what? Where?"

Henry's got an uncle who lives in Selma. Both of us are here because of our parents. They're the ones who decided we're alcoholics. We're tired of being told what to do. Henry's uncle's gonna meet us out in the parking lot. He thinks these places really suck.. He's on our side. Don't tell, okay? Just say you don't know where I am and you slept through the whole thing."

But what about your parents?"

"Oh, I'll call 'em some time when everything gets settled. I'll send a note or something." She was still stuffing clothes and makeup into her bag.

"Laura, that's just so crazy. Here you've got people who care about you and a safe place to go..."

"Oh, you sound just like my mom land dad. I'm a grownup, and I had my own apartment, for awhile at least, before I moved back home. This is like high school, here. I mean, look. Henry and I have to sneak around just to see each other."

"But this is a place for sick people.. It's a rehabilitation center."

"Well, we're gonna go now," she whispered. Goodbye. Good luck about your job thing, and your apartment thing, and that guy who's waiting for you when you get back."

She and her boyfriend snickered for a moment, then worked their way along with her bags, back out the widow. They were gone.

***

Next morning, it was time for mail again. Andrea received a letter which bore the return address of her employer. When she opened it, it read:
Andrea
We are proud of you for seeking professional help with your addiction. However, we regret to say that we make it a policy not to hire anyone who has that type of problem, since this is a drinking establishment. It is a security measure. We feel it would be in your best interest to seek anther type of employment at the end of your stay in the facility.

She sighed, tucked the letter into her jeans pocket and plodded slowly along to her group therapy session.

"Well," sang the counselor that morning, beaming. Everyone was seated around the same, dreary circle. "Who has something to say?"

"I do," said Andrea. "I just found out I lost my job by coming to this place."

"That's impossible," said Gail. "It's against the law to fire someone for coming here, because legally, you are being treated for a disease."

"I know. But this place I work, or worked for, is kind of a hole in the wall. I mean, it's a tavern, see, and they can kind of get around the rules..."

"A tavern?" gasped Gail. "Well so much the better, then. Why in the world would you want to work in a tavern? You've got to stay out of those slippery places."

"But it is...was...my livelihood..."

"Just take it one day at a time," offered one of the members.

"Yeah," said another. "Easy does it."

"Sounds a little bit to me like you're on the pity pot," said Gail. "You've got to watch out for that stinking thinking. Now. Hazel, what have you decided about your problem?"

"Well," said Hazel, "The gentleman I met at this facility has offered to let me live in one of his little summer beach cabins while I sort things out. I really do want to make this change but I don't know how to do it without upsetting my husband. What should I do?"

Suddenly, a counselor burst through the door.. "Okay," she said huffed. "Laura's gone. She's nowhere. She wasn't at breakfast, and she didn't check out. Who knows anything about her disappearance? Somebody must know. Andrea? Did Laura tell you anything about where she was going?"

Andrea looked down at her lap, at the place where the two letters were eating at her jeans pocket.

"Andrea, why haven't you reported her disappearance?

"Seems like she was always gone."

"Did you see her leave?"

"No."

Then, another counselor burst into the room. "Henry's gone, too. They both must have taken off last night.

Now every eye in the room was on Andrea. For some reason, she discovered, it made her feel good.

"Andrea," said Gail. "Laura is a sick girl with a lot of problems."

"Well," Andrea began, faltering. A hot needle of energy shot through her. "I'm a sick woman too, with a lot of problems."

Now she looked around, flushed, peering sheepishly at the counselors and at her therapy group. She felt a tingle of relief.

***

That evening after dinner, sitting on her slender bed with the curtain closed, Andrea read over the two letters she had been carrying around with her in her pocket. She had the room to herself now, no radio around, no cute talk. She had been admonished by a counselor a few days earlier for spending too much time here, when she should be in the social room, mingling.

"Andrea? Can I talk to you for a minute?" A familiar head poked through the flap of curtain, and it belonged to the group leader, Gail.

"Sure."

"Andrea," the woman began, frowning. "Since you no longer have a job, I checked on your insurance, and it turns out your coverage was not sufficient for your stay here in the first place"

"Oh."

"Well, you probably know what that means."

"I know. I'll leave."

"Well, wait a minute, Andrea. Don't you have a relative, or some money saved or something? After all, you've started with this thing. There must be someone who wants to help you see it through."

"Naw. I just drove my own self in."

"How about a credit card, or a loan?"

"I don't qualify."

Gail sighed. "Well, this really does seem like a shame. Maybe you can just go to a lot of meetings. But I do hope you have the opportunity to try us again some time, when you have the funds." She tried to look Andrea in the eye.

"Yeah. Sure."

"And you haven't heard anything about Laura?"

"No.."

Gail shook her head. "Whew." She blew out air. "What a waste." She stood up. "What a waste of a really nice girl." She stepped outside the curtain. "Well, okay, Andrea. Just come on around the office tomorrow after breakfast tomorrow morning on your way out, and we'll figure up a bill for what you owe for the time you stayed. I really am very sorry."

"I know where Laura is."

"You what?"

"I know where she went. She told me. But I'm not telling." Her heart began to thrum.

"What do you mean, Andrea?"

"I mean, I was sitting right here when she packed her stuff and climbed out the window with Henry."

Gail stuck her head back through the curtain. "How could you withhold that kind of information?"

"She asked me to. She's over twenty one. She's not in jail here. She just left without checking out, that's all.".

"So where are they?"

"I'm not telling."

"I'm shocked at your attitude, Andrea."

"Go ahead. I'm just not telling, that's all. I'm leaving anyway, so you can't kick me out."

Gail yanked the curtain shut and stomped out the door.

***

Later in the evening, the room was filled with people. There were counselors, fellow patients, even Laura's mother was there, and they were all gathered around Andrea who still sat on her bed. It felt like she was attending a feast.

"Okay, Andrea. We don't feel like playing any more," Gail said. "There are two sick, addicted people out there who need our help. Are you going to tell us where they are?"

Andrea smiled. "Yes," she said. "I am. Just as soon as someone cares enough about me to listen to what I have to say." Her calm broke into a ripple of words. "I came to this place to get help and I've got nothing to go back to when I'm out and no where to go, and no one cares if I stay or go, and no one listens to me, and everyone thinks Laura's so important..." she started to choke. "The only reason you're all here is because I know something about Henry and Laura. What about me? Help me. Please?"

Silence.

Finally, Hazel spoke. "You know," maybe my new friend will rent you one of those beach cabins of his. You know? Nice little town. Maybe you could get a good job."

Another pause.

"Yes," offered Laura's mother. Maybe we could see about financing a loan for you. It would be a good influence on Laura to see how you went through with treatment and stayed sober."

"We could look into some kind of payment arrangement," muttered Gail.

Andrea's breathing evened.

"Thank you," she said. "I really was scared." She smiled. "Oh. Laura and Henry took off for Selma to stay with Henry's uncle. That's all I know."

***

In the night, Andrea awoke in her bed. She smiled, and thought dreamily of all those faces surrounding her earlier in the afternoon. Some kind of commotion was going on, and it sounded like it was over at the window. Someone was opening it and stepping inside.

"Andrea?" It was Laura's hushed voice. "Andrea, are you awake?"

"Laura," croaked Andrea. Is that you?"

The girl banged a bag or two against the window, and then made a thudding noise as she stepped on through. "Whew!" she said. "I'm back."

"What happened? What are you doing here?"

She slipped off some clothes, and then climbed into bed.

"I hated it there at Henry's uncle's," she said. "I mean, his uncle's okay but Henry's a jerk."

"What happened? Did Henry come back, too?"

"Naw, he was just wasting time here. He didn't really want to get sober."

"Is he all right?"

"Yeah. He just checks into these places to meet girls. That's what his uncle said, anyway. His uncle's the one who brought me back here."

"Oh."

"Hmmm," Laura purred, tucking the covers up under her neck. "I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad to be back. Do you think anybody missed me?"

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