Addiction by G. H. Ephron

Author:G. H. Ephron
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2011-02-16T05:00:00+00:00

15

THE NEXT morning, I woke up in a foul mood. The world seemed to move in slow motion, the air so thick I had to fight my way through it. More than anything, I wanted a cup of coffee. Barring that, I was desperate for a run. But I’d overslept, and there wasn’t time.

I found some instant decaf at the back of a kitchen cabinet. The jar was coated with dust and the expiration date was four years earlier. I threw a handful into a mug of hot tap water and knocked it back. It tasted god-awful. Then I managed to break my coffee mug, tossing it into the sink. On my way to the car, I stepped in a pile of dog shit, no doubt courtesy of some civic-minded dog walker.

Scowling, I went back in to change my shoes. I was looking for my car keys when my mother’s knock sounded. I yanked open the door.

“The tax collector gets a warmer hello,” she said. She wrinkled her nose. “What stinks?”

She has an infallible nose. I gave her a hug but didn’t invite her in. “It’s exactly what it smells like,” I said. “And now I’m late. Can’t find my keys.”

“So? What did you find out?” she asked, up on the balls of her feet.

I must have looked baffled.

“The pills!”

“Oh, right! I gave them to Kwan, and he couldn’t find them in the reference book. He said he’d ask someone else. Might have an answer today. That okay?”

“I should live so long,” she said. “Are those what you’re looking for?” she asked, indicating the set of car keys lying on the first stair step.

Before I could thank her, she’d disappeared into her own side of the house.

It took four tries for my car to start. But once I got it going, it didn’t falter. I ran a hand across the dashboard and relaxed deep into the leather seat. I could feel the wheels hug the road as I turned into the street and accelerated into the flow of traffic. At least I could still enjoy driving. Traffic cooperated, and the ten-minute drive to the institute went without incident.

When I got there, Jess was already at work in the dining room, administering an intelligence test and a mental-status exam to Olivia. Jess had been pleased when I’d asked her to help.

An hour later, Jess and I huddled in the hall. She summarized for me: “Superior IQ. Verbal much higher than Performance.”

That didn’t surprise me. With a nonverbal learning disability, I’d expect Olivia to do better on language-mediated tasks.

Jess continued, “Problems with concentration. Irritability. Labile affect. She broke down when I asked her if she’d ever thought about killing herself. She’s terrified that suicide is hereditary. And she’s next.”

It was succinct and to the point, though nothing I didn’t already know.

I grabbed a leather case from a storage closet and went to the dining room. Olivia glared at me. “When is this Kutrid or whatever it is supposed to start working? I still feel completely gross.

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