Between Yesterday and Tomorrow by Margaret Duarte

Author:Margaret Duarte [Duarte, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: visionary/metaphysical fiction; contemporary women's fiction; psychological suspense; self-empowerment; occult & supernatural; paranormal; alcoholic fiction; spiritual life
Publisher: Indie Author Project
Published: 2018-02-28T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

I HAD FINALLY GOTTEN used to the voices. Now I was seeing and smelling things as well. Doves in a giant birdcage; a cat that looked like my stray; the scent of vanilla. Good thing Veronica and I were visiting Maya today. I needed a diversion to get my head back on straight.

The familiar hum and cut of my Jeep’s engine drew my attention to the back driveway. A door slammed and minutes later Veronica walked into the kitchen waving a stack of papers. I hadn’t even known she was gone. “I went back to the library for information on the Guidepost Treatment Facility where Maya works.” She swept the kitchen counters with her gaze, as if expecting a plate of freshly baked cookies to replace the one she’d wiped clean during our talk about the upstairs studio and cat. No go. Baking wasn’t on my priority list right now.

“The Guidepost is headquartered in an old Victorian like this one,” she said. “Just think, Anne could set up a similar substance abuse program here.”

Anne, nurse, caregiver, and witch doctor, helping the weak and defeated. Right up her alley. “And we could help her,” I said, knowing this wasn’t an option.

“Sick people don’t bring out the best in me,” Veronica said, “especially when their illnesses are self-inflicted.”

Veronica’s comment about alcoholism being self-inflicted was harsh, but, yes, drinking was a choice, at least until addiction set in. To argue otherwise would mean our father was powerless to overcome his dependence.

Veronica wiggled the papers in her hand. “You’ve got to hear these testimonials. Some addicts sounded just like Dad before they turned their lives around. Do you think it’s possible?”

“For Dad to turn his life around?”

Veronica read from one page, “‘In twenty-eight days, I achieved sobriety, which is now leading me to the road of recovery and back to joyous living.’” She dropped her head and zeroed in on the ceiling, the muscles in her neck working as if fighting a private battle. She cleared her throat and said, “Hell, what am I thinking? Dad would never check into a facility like this. Too proud.” She folded the papers and put them into her bag. “Plus, he likes drinking too much.”

“Let’s forget about Bob for now,” I said, “and concentrate on Maya. Do you know how to get there?”

“Yeah, though the place may be off limits for drop-ins, to protect the identity of its patients.”

“Let’s ask for Maya and see what happens,” I said.

“Won’t know till we try.”

❂❂❂

The Guidepost Treatment Facility appeared open and accessible, not at all the prison-like edifice I’d envisioned it to be. Plenty of parking, which meant visitors were likely encouraged to stop by to look up family and friends. The main house was as Veronica had described it, a large Victorian similar to Anne’s, with a wraparound porch, even a turret.

“No wonder Maya likes it here,” I said.

The grounds were carpeted in lush grass, edged by trimmed hedges and dotted with deciduous trees and evergreens. Pink and

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