Crystal Lies (3 page)

But it was usually on one of those same nights that he would stomp out of the house, not to be seen again until the following day. Oh yes, we were quite the loving Christian family back then. Something to behold.

I know I should’ve felt relieved when Jacob managed to graduate in June. But it hurt that he chose not to march with his class. He laughed off the cap-and-gown routine as “moronic stupidity” and refused to participate in any of the traditional senior activities.

“Don’t you want to celebrate this with your friends?” I asked.

“They’re not my friends now.”

“But you’ve known them for years,” I tried.

He would have nothing to do with my rationale, and I made a valiant attempt to conceal my feelings. But I felt cheated by his choice. After all, I had spent years being his room mother, PTA president, fund-raising chairman, booster club member. You name it, and I’d done it. I’d attended most of his sporting events despite the weather—all those cold mornings on the soccer field, all those stiff bleachers and weekend away-games—and now I was being denied the opportunity to watch my son march across the gym and receive his diploma.

Geoffrey was understandably angry, but he was also busy with a big lawsuit, and, as usual, we didn’t discuss our feelings of disappointment, and I continued to keep my grief to myself. Why dribble gasoline on our already smoldering fire? As a consolation, I decided to throw a small, family dinner party to commemorate Jacob’s graduation. Just Sarah—home from college—my sister and her family, and my mother, who happened to be visiting for the weekend. Unfortunately, the festivities fell slightly flat when
the guest of honor never showed up. It turned out he’d been doing some celebrating of his own. Why should I have been surprised?

After he graduated, we hardly saw Jacob anymore. He became an expert at coming and going without being seen or heard. One time when I caught him slipping into the house at four in the morning, I suggested he might have a fixture in foreign espionage, although I wasn’t sure such things existed anymore. I’m sure I was still trying to make myself believe that everything was going to be all right in the end. Besides, I told myself, Jacob was somehow managing to hold down a job washing dishes at a restaurant, and he’d assured me that he was preregistered for fall classes at SSCC, good old South Seattle Community College. Maybe it wasn’t the impressive university that Geoffrey would’ve picked, but it was better than nothing. Or so I thought.

Fortunately or not, depending on how you look at it, Geoffrey was becoming more and more obsessed with a major lawsuit going on at city hall. It had to do with a multimillion-dollar contract for new sewer lines that hadn’t been properly fulfilled, and if Geoffrey could win this case, he would become an instant hero in Stafford.

As a result, Jacob’s somewhat errant behavior went fairly unnoticed by his father during most of the summer. That is, until Jacob was picked up by the police for underage drinking and being in possession of “less than an ounce” of marijuana.
Then
his father sat up and paid attention. Well, sort of.

I was the one who answered the phone that night. Always the light sleeper, and constantly consumed with worry over Jacob, I had a tendency to nearly jump out of my skin whenever the phone rang late at night. I must’ve caught it before the second ring, my heart pounding in my eardrums. I felt certain it was the emergency room informing me that my son had just died of an overdose or been run over by a truck.

“Mom?” His voice sounded like he’d been crying.

“Jacob, what’s wrong?” “I’ve been arrested.”

“Oh no.” I took the cordless phone into the bathroom and sat down on the tiled edge of the whirlpool tub. “What happened?”

“I’m really sorry, Mom.” He was sobbing now. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. My life is so screwed up. I know I’m a mess. I want help. I really do. This makes me see that I need it.”

“Okay, okay.” I tried to sound soothing. “Just tell me what happened.”

“I was getting into my car, and I… I got stopped. I’d had a couple of beers with some guys from work,” he told me. “And, well, I had a joint in my pocket. I didn’t even know it was there, Mom. I mean I hadn’t worn that shirt since last summer. I think someone else might’ve even put it there.”

“So you’re in jail?” I tried to imagine this, but all I could conjure up were Images of iron bars and guys in zebra-striped suits, like in some cartoon from my childhood.

“I’m not in jail yet,” he said. “I’ve been processed, and they’ll put me in jail if someone doesn’t come down and post a bond.”

“Post a bond?”

“Pay for bail,” he translated.

“Oh. Right.”

“Do you mind, Mom? I’ll pay you back. I mean it might take a while, but I will. Besides, the lady told me that you’ll get your money back after my court date.”

“Court?” I peeked out the bathroom door to see if Geoffrey was hearing any of this, but it seemed he was still asleep.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of stuff I can tell you about later. But can you come
now
, Mom? Otherwise they’re going to lock me up. And there’s this guy in there who looks like a Satanist or something. I’m scared, Mom.”

“How much is your bail?”

“Five hundred bucks.” He sighed loudly. “And it has to be cash or a money order.”

“But it’s two in the morning, Jacob. I don’t have cash like that—”

The bathroom door suddenly came open, and there stood Geoffrey rubbing his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. “Who is it?”

“Mom,” said Jacob. “I gotta go; my time is up. Please come and get me. I can’t stand it here.” And then the line went dead.

“It’s Jacob,” I told Geoffrey.

“What happened now?”

“He’s in jail.”

Geoffrey said a foul word. I blinked in surprise but didn’t say anything. “He needs us to bail him out,” I said as I headed for my closet. “Why?”

“So he doesn’t have to stay in jail.” I turned and looked at my husband of twenty-five years and wondered if this really was the man I had married and borne two children with.

“A night in jail might do him good,” he said.

“How will it do him good?” I demanded as I pulled on my sweats.

“Teach him there are consequences for his choices.”

“But you should’ve heard him, Geoffrey,” I pleaded. “He was crying. He was sorry. He said he knew he’d messed up and he wanted to change. He wants help.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“But he’s never been this low before, Geoffrey. He needs us. He needs to know that we love him, that we forgive him. Isn’t it what Jesus would do?”

Geoffrey rolled his eyes at me, then headed back to bed. “Aren’t you coming?” I asked as I shoved my foot into a clog. “Nope.”

“Geoffrey!” I went over to the bed now. “He’s your only son. You’re going to just let him rot in jail?”

“One night in jail won’t kill him.”

“How do you know?” I demanded. “I’ve heard stories about abuse… Or what about kids who get so depressed they kill themselves in jail?” “They won’t let him do that.” “How do you know?” “Just go back to bed, Glennis.”

But there was no way I could go back to bed with Images of Jacob’s lifeless body hanging by a sheet suspended from a light fixture in some creepy jail cell. And so I got my purse and climbed into the Range Rover and drove downtown to where our bank has an ATM. I had no idea how much money I could get from this machine, but I decided I would give it my best shot and take whatever I got over to city hall and beg them to release my son. Perhaps I could offer them my engagement ring as collateral.

After all, I assured myself as I drove down Main Street, his father is the city attorney. Surely that should carry some weight at city hall. But to my surprise I was able, after only two tries, to get four hundred and forty dollars, and I had enough cash in my purse to make up the difference. With a thick wad of twenties in my hand, I glanced nervously over my shoulder at the dark and deserted town as I quickly got back into my car and locked the door. I realized this probably wasn’t the smartest thing I’d done, but then mothers will do almost anything when they feel their children are in danger.

I felt conspicuous beneath the glaring fluorescent lights in the receiving area of the city jail, I could hear strange sounds from down a hallway, but the only other person around was a young woman dressed in what appeared to be an “evening” outfit. She told me that the receptionist would be back shortly and that they were going to release her boyfriend.

As I stood there waiting my turn, it occurred to me that Geoffrey hadn’t even inquired why Jacob was in jail. Did he even care?

I paid them my money, got my bond receipt, signed some legal papers, and then sat down to wait for my son. It was nearly four in the morning when he finally came out, looking blurry eyed and sleepy.

Naturally, I thought that Jacob would be glad to see me and be appreciative of my brave efforts to come down there alone, but instead he seemed moody and depressed. “I figured Dad wouldn’t come,” he said as we got into the car.

“He has an early morning,” I said, which may or may not have been true.

“Don’t lie for him, Mom.” Jacob leaned back in the seat and exhaled loudly. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

Well, I wasn’t so sure about that, but I was unwilling to pick that fight just then. And so we drove home in silence.

But that night, I’d have to say, was the beginning of the end for my marriage. Geoffrey was furious with me the next morning when I admitted what I’d done.

“You went down there? After I told you not to?” he demanded as I handed him a cup of coffee. “I explicitly told you that it could wait until today.”

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You know you’re a part of the problem, Glennis. You’re a real enabler when it comes to Jacob.”

“Nice way to throw around the addiction lingo, Geoffrey. Enabler?
Please
. I’m his mother. What am I supposed to do?”

“You’re supposed to respect your husband.”

“I was bailing out your son, Geoffrey, so you wouldn’t have to—”

“With absolutely no regard to how I feel.”

“How
do
you feel?”

“Like you’ve taken his side, Glennis.”

“His side?”
I envisioned our family, divided and lined up against each other, stones in our hands ready to be thrown at the opposition. “But he’s
our
son, Geoffrey. I thought we were all on the
same
side.”

He didn’t respond.

“Jacob
needs
help, Geoffrey,” I continued, making my best plea. “He
needs
his family. He
needs
you.”

“He needs to quit screwing up.” His voice sent an actual shiver down my spine.

Then he set down his coffee mug with a thud and marched upstairs. I could tell by the sound of his footsteps that he was heading for Jacob’s room. I followed him, certain this would not go well. But before I could say anything—not that I could’ve stopped him—he had burst into Jacob’s room.

“Get up!” he yelled.

“Huh?” Jacob rolled over and looked up with sleepy eyes. “Get out of bed!”

Jacob just groaned and crumpled into the fetal position. “I said get up!” yelled Geoffrey. Then he reached over and jerked Jacob out of his bed. “Geoffrey!” I cried.

“This is
my
house,” said Geoffrey. “And if I say it’s time to get up, you’d better get up.”

Jacob cussed at his dad, and it quickly went from ugly to frightening as both of them began yelling and swinging fists. I ran for the phone and came back holding it like a weapon.

“Stop it!” I screamed. “Or I’m calling 911.”

That managed to bring Geoffrey back to reality, and he released Jacob with a shove that threw him back onto his bed with a loud crash.

Jacob’s nose was bleeding, but he didn’t seem to notice as he let loose
with a few more foul words, then finally said,“You’re such a hypocrite, Dad. No wonder I’m such a freakin’ mess. I hate your guts!”

“And you are no longer welcome in this house!” yelled Geoffrey. “Be out of here by the time I get home from work.”

“Fine!” yelled Jacob. “This place makes me crazy anyway. I should’ve left a long time ago.”

Geoffrey straightened his jacket and stormed out the door.

By noon, Jacob had heaped some of his belongings into his old Subaru wagon. I had tried to talk him out of leaving, but he insisted it was the only way.

“It’s just going to get worse, Mom,” he told me as we stood outside in the driveway.

“What do you mean?”

“This family,” he said. “It’s like we’re all going down any minute.”

“What are you saying?” I felt more confused than ever.

“There’s stuff going on,” he said. “Everyone’s going to get hurt.”

“Jacob.” I looked into his eyes. “What exactly are you saying? Is this some kind of threat? Are you going to hurt us?”

He laughed and shook his head. “Not me, Mom. It’s Dad. Watch out.”

I frowned. “He’s just upset, Jacob. He’ll be fine.”

He just shrugged. “Dad hates me, you know.”

“He doesn’t hate you, honey. He’s frustrated by all this.”

“No, Mom, he hates me. Can’t you see I’m an embarrassment to him? Just like Grandma was. I gotta go.” He hugged me so tight that it reminded me of his first day of school when I thought he’d never let go.

“Where will you stay?” I asked.