Storms Never Last Ch. 01

Annie looked shocked and thought about what I had said for a long time; reality finally striking home. "Oh ... of course. Umm, I remember from the orientation meetings that a break is allowed. You know, people get sick, have a family emergency, all that kind of stuff. On a leave of absence, I do know that my medical coverage would continue. That could be important, right?"

Well, I knew she was smart. That's the first thing I'd thought of when I was reaching places for her to fight her addiction. The prices were very high. Her policy through the cancer center didn't cover me. She'd moved from school, to a hospital, a number of times, so it was easier to keep my own plan, so I didn't have to keep making changing doctors and all the other hassles.

"Yeah, Annie. Who is in charge of your program?"

"Well, Doctor Chance, but it would be better to go to their human resources office. That way you won't have to make an appointment. I don't want to face them, but, uh, what are you going to tell them?"

"I'll just say that you are suffering from stress and depression, and I want to take you home to your family for a few months. I won't tell them you aren't coming back. As soon as you finish therapy, and I get you on my health plan, we will send them a registered letter that you won't be coming back. How do you feel about that?"

"It makes me sad in some ways—I mean; this has always been my dream. I know, though, that you have always been my dream too, and I guess I lost sight of that."

There was a lot more to talk about; however I didn't want to talk about it then. She had had enough. I got all the information she could give me, and then put her to bed. I lay down with her, holding her close, until she fell asleep. I got in my truck and drove to a biker's bar close to one of the I-35 exits and called the DEA hotline. It was a recording and I gave them all the info I had.

I got home and slipped into bed with Annie and slept better than I had any right to expect. The next morning, a Friday, I was at the hospital early. I filled out some forms, including several that she needed to sign. Surprisingly I didn't need to meet with any high muckety-muck that would give me a hard time. I took the ones for Annie to sign home with me in a prepaid envelope. They also gave me a stack of medical forms, also in prepaid envelopes. I guess with the size of the place, that this was not a rare occurrence. Actually, they were quite pleasant and supportive. I think they felt sorry for us. They gave me a form and a number to call when she was able to come back.

The next morning, we started for home in her red Mustang.

Chapter Five

It was a windy, chilly Saturday under bright sunshine when we left Austin. We went straight west through Fredericksburg to I-10 headed west. Considering it was in the middle of winter I wanted to avoid any really bad weather, so we avoided I-40 and any mountain areas. We kept with I-10 all the way until we were north of the LA mess and then picked up I-5 to 580 to San Rafael and on up to my folk's house. It was a little over twenty-four hours of driving which we spread over three-and-a-half days. I wanted to make the run through the bay area in middle of the day to miss the worst of the traffic. We stopped at whatever motel looked the cleanest when we were ready to stop each day.

The drive was therapeutic but strange. Annie would take her pill and be on top of the world, talkative, energetic, and restless in the confines of the car. As the pill wore off her emotions would drop like a rocket, weeping silently one minute, being bitchy the next. I couldn't believe that I'd never noticed this, but with her being gone so much for work, and often coming home after I was asleep I could see that it could happen. She must have had incredible intestinal fortitude to make herself appear normal at the hospital and being able to perform surgery in her expected expert manner.

A couple of times she would try to express some objection or another to my somewhat arbitrary plan. I thought about it; was I unfair? Yeah, damn straight I was. I was mad at her for being so stupid. It wasn't only her life that was being disrupted, but mine too. We were at a truck stop in Lordsburg, New Mexico, when she started in again. I took a sip of my coffee, and lay some money on the table for the bill. I stood, reached in my coat pocket for the keys, and then lay it on the line for her.

"Look, Annie, I am not going to keep going over the same things. You made a big mess for both of us. I'm trying to make things better. You apparently don't want to do it my way." I shoved the keys over to her. "You go on back to Austin and do whatever you want. I'm going to talk to those truckers over there and see if I can get a ride to California. I love you—I always will—but I can't live like you apparently want to. Give me a call if there is anything I can ever do for you." And I walked over to the trucker's table and started talking to them. I was just getting ready to sit down, at their invitation, when I felt a tug on my coat. I turned around to see Annie standing there crying.

She handed me the keys, and pulling my arm, led me out to the car. She got in and leaned against the door, continuing to cry silently, and fell asleep after thirty minutes or so. She didn't wake up until I pulled off the freeway in Phoenix. It was a nice business oriented hotel I'd stayed at a couple of years ago for a book expo. It was an upscale for the price and quite comfortable. We lay down with her head on my shoulder, and both of us fell asleep for a couple of hours.

Later we went down to the restaurant and had a very nice steak and salad. I'd discovered over the years that restaurants in the Phoenix area did as good a job with steaks as anywhere in the country, on a par with Denver, Kansas City and Omaha. I wanted some wine, but I didn't want her to have any, so I skipped it.

Later that night she made a tearful, sobbing apology and never pushed back again on this big change in our lives. Sure, we argued about a number of things after that, but not over her beating her addiction or changing her environment for something a lot less stressful. Part of why she had problems was that she was a perfectionist in a job that allowed few mistakes, worked too hard for too many hours, and tried to please too many people. It was a big step for her to abdicate this part of her life to me.

We pulled into my parent's yard about four in the afternoon on the third day of travel. Annie had called her parents as we passed through Santa Rosa, and they were there waiting for us. I'd called both of our folks before we left Austin and explained things to them. So they didn't ask any questions and just shared their love with us. A couple of days later we visited three drug rehab places with the one I'd called and liked the best last, which was the one we chose. After the tour and discussions with several members of the staff we talked it over and signed the papers.

The place was just northwest of Sebastopol on Graton Road, and was about an hour's drive from Dry Creek Valley; farther than I wanted to drive regularly. I would need to find something closer to the rehab center to stay in for whatever time it took for Annie to beat her addiction. The weekend skies were heavy with rain as we all tried to make it as easy for her as possible. Monday morning I drove her down to Gravenstein Acres, and checked her in. They took her off to get situated in her room and get a complete physical, including a wide spectrum of blood tests.

Doctor Ferris gave me an overview of what she would go through.

"We start with detox, which most patients find as the hardest part of our treatment. From our discussions, I think your wife has an emotional addiction as much as a physical one. Given the relatively short time and generally low dosages I think we can get her off the physical need in a week or so. The emotional part, for her I think, will be harder. She has to understand the factors that led to her addiction and be prepared to continue her life without the crutch of amphetamines. I would think it will take two to three months.

"We consider family interaction to be a key factor in our treatment process, so we will schedule sessions with you and with her parents. Weekends during the days will be pretty much open for visitation, and I will occasionally call you if I think a visit from you during the week would be useful. When we think she is several weeks from being ready for release, I will encourage short daytime trips, such as a lunch, a drive over to Bodega Bay ... something like that. It will help her to make the mental and emotional transition to life outside our closed environment.

"I've already talked to you about our methodology, so I won't go into more detail, unless you have questions. It's the usual twelve step process with open group meetings, presentations and one-on-one discussions with our clinical staff."

I left him to go visit a friend, Mark, from the Enology program at Davis. He had been the wine maker for a small winery, but when I talked to him, I found he had bought the place from the owner. When he started there, a part of the package was a small cabin on the property for him to live in. Now he had moved into the former owner's house and offered the cabin to me for free if I'd give him a hand once in a while. Where Annie was at Gravenstein Acres was less than five miles from the winery which was on Green Valley Road. It was unimaginatively called Green Valley Vineyards. It made only two wines, Chardonnay and Pinot. Both varietals loved the cool, foggy climate of the area west of Santa Rosa.

~~~~~

So we settled into a routine, Annie in her little world and I in mine. At that time of the year, there wasn't a lot to do at the winery so mostly Mark and I would work through some of his wine and some of what he traded for with other local wineries. It was hard work but I had to pay for my use of his cabin, so I was as diligent in doing a first class job of my duties. I did help him put together and ship online orders and do the stuff for his wine club.

I was really focused on getting the novel done. I found I was a lot more productive when I was able to put in regular hours. When I needed a break, I started fleshing out the next novel which was something new for me. I was trying my first western and that meant a lot of research. It was located in Wyoming, a few miles north of Laramie, on the Laramie River. It's about a guy whose dad dies so he goes home to take over the family ranch. He falls in love with the daughter of a neighboring ranch and later finds out that her dad is a cattle rustler. I needed to visit the area (my agent had found a contact with a ranch in the area), and I planned on flying to Laramie with Annie for a couple of weeks in September.

Doctor Ferris called me after a week and let me know that Annie had finished detox okay. "No serious problems. She's turning out to have a lot stronger personality that I thought was the case at first. Something for you to think about: she has been focused too much internally, and if you could find a way for her to do some volunteer work, or discover a new hobby, it would help her a lot."

The time went by, sometimes slowly, and other times it seemed to fly by. The treatment center was surrounded by forty acres with numerous hiking trails. There was a gym and a good sized pool. The first weekend I visited, Annie and I walked on one of the trails, and it was pretty and quiet. We both enjoyed it very much. After that she started exercising regularly. I think it was the swimming that helped her more than anything. Annie had been on the swim team in high school. It was at best an average team, and she mostly was a filler on relay teams. She was better at the longer distances, but those weren't swum too often in high school. Next door was a place that rented horses, and both of us enjoyed the several times we did that.

Between walking and swimming every day she looked much fitter with better color and a more upbeat attitude. That inspired me and I began hiking in one or another of the many regional or state parks. I lost ten pounds within a month and felt better than I had in years. It did cut into the time I had for writing, but I became more alert and better focused ... hence, more productive.

Annie wound up staying at Gravenstein Acres for just under three months. The last month was more for giving her a gradual transition than anything else. I'd talked to the doctor, and he thought it might cause her anxiety to make a sudden change. I'd been planning for after her release. I rented a house in Geyserville. During the time of Annie's rehab, I'd flown down to Austin, put the house on the market and arranged for the furniture to be shipped and put in storage.

I used the same real estate broker I'd used for the purchase, and she gave me a break on her fee. I'd let her know my plans, and she had a buyer lined up. Net, we lost a couple of grand. It wasn't a big deal for me, since I never planned to move back to Austin. I drove my truck back home, using I-40 this time. I made it in two and a half days; much faster than the earlier trip. I was going to cancel the order on the boat and trailer, but Annie made a big fuss about it. Since I really did want it I went along with her. Driving back with that sleek new boat and trailer I was sorely tempted to do a vanishing act and fish for the next few years.

Not too long after we were married, Annie and I had watched a special about Machu Picchu, the lost city of the Incas. She was fascinated by it and bought a couple of travel books and a book of photos of Cuzco and Machu Picchu; one of those large coffee table books. She dreamed of visiting, but a trip there at that time was impossible because of both money and school. I had my western far enough along that my publisher sent me a healthy advance. (The working title was "Death Rides the Range." There was a nineteen thirty nine movie by that name that I remembered because I liked Fay McKenzie and the horse of the leading man—Ken Maynard—was named Tarzan. We had seen the movie on late night television once.)

We had grown up with the children of the vineyard workers and grew up speaking Spanish not long after we had learned English. We both took Spanish all through high school and since I had more electives than Annie did, I took a couple years at the college level. So for us, a trip to any Spanish speaking country would be greatly enhanced by our speaking the language fluently. There were many Peruvians, particularly up in the Andes, who spoke Quechua as their native language, but generally spoke at least some Spanish.

So I started planning a trip. I got it mostly put together, and then talked to Doctor Ferris. He didn't think Annie would have any problems. He added that it would most likely do her a world of good. A week before she was to be released, I took Annie for a hike around Spring Lake near Annadel State Park and took a picnic lunch. When we finished the hike, I got the picnic basket out of the trunk, and we started walking to a nearby table. I stopped and gave her the keys.

"I forgot the water bottles. Could you get them out of the trunk?" She turned back to the car, and I put the basket on the table. Quickly reaching in, I grabbed a brochure on Machu Picchu and dropped in under the table. Annie is a nut about litter. If it was on the ground, she'd give a little tsk, tsk for the inconsiderate person that left it there and put in the trash can. Of course she saw it right away and put it on the end of the table. I started getting the sandwiches out, and I saw her staring at the picture on the cover of the brochure.

She finally pulled it over and started looking through it. She ate her sandwich in a world of her own; it was if I weren't there. She finally finished looking at it, gave a deep sigh, and looked up to see me staring at her. She blushed, and said, "I'm sorry, Terry. You know how much I've always wanted to go there." She breathed another sad sigh, and mumbled, "Maybe someday ... maybe."

We cleaned everything up and started walking back to the car. I grabbed an envelope out of the basket and threw it on the ground behind us. I put the basket in the truck, and told her, "I'll go ahead and open up the car. Check and make sure we didn't leave anything."

She started walking back to the table, but had only taken a couple of steps when she stopped. I knew what she was thinking. "Now how did I miss that trash?" She walked over and picked it up. It was obvious that this was not just some trash left by a careless person, but possibly something important. She stopped and picked it up, slowly walking back as she opened it. She stopped, looking puzzled. She took out what turned out to be the plane tickets, looked at me, then more carefully looked read the "what, who and when" info off the papers. She suddenly squealed and ran at me, jumping up and throwing her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck.

I fell back with her on top of me squealing and generally doing her best to ravish me. I fought back as hard as I could but finally fell back laughing. It turned out that putting this trip together was the best thing I could have done to bring the life back to Annie and to our marriage. With this she was more than ready to get on with her life.

I'd given a lot of thought to the Doc suggesting volunteer work for her and saw no harm in tying it in with my own interests. Both of us had seen firsthand some of the living and health issues for migrant workers ... and surprisingly it wasn't much better for many of the Mexican families that worked in the vineyards and wineries. There were many problems: poor pay, constant moving of families which caused disruptions in the children's schooling—including causing many kids to drop out of school early, the same sorts of issues in health care, and a lack of knowledge on infant care, sanitary food preparation, etc.

They were hard workers and often held several jobs. Many of the workers sent money to their families in Mexico, frequently leaving them with too little cash to life each month. We had reasonable expectations on what we could accomplish; we were not starry eyed optimists. We started with offering free health clinics. Annie was able to get some doctors and nurses to volunteer their time, along with a dentist and several dental technicians. We could get started right away on some of the basics, shots, eye and dental exams, dental cleaning, eyeglass needs, and identifying ongoing health issues. We were able to get most of the wineries to provide space on a rotating basis. We would have a clinic every other Saturday from nine in the morning until noon. We were planning mostly for children, but we accepted adults if there weren't too many of them.

We would do twice a month in the summers and once a month when schools were open. The school did a pretty good job but there were a lot of families moving in and out regularly. There were also some kids that just never made it to school. Annie jumped right into the planning of this, and we shamelessly used our parents with their wide network of contacts in the industry.

In early May, we flew down to Perú for a three week vacation.

Chapter Six

As the plane slid down towards the airport in Lima, all we could see of Perú was a vast bank of clouds along the coast. This garúa blanketed the ground up to a couple hundred feet—above that was brilliant sunshine. The Andes rise to around twenty thousand feet just a few miles from the coast. This caused heavy rains to the east, making that area east of the mountains of Perú a major part of the Amazon basin. The coast is extremely dry, with Lima averaging two inches a year, most of this being condensation from the fog—which can blanket the city for most of May through November.