Still With Us: Then Comes Hope Collection, #2

By Regina Walker

★★★★★ "A tell it like it is story, Still With Us portrays a realistic picture of addiction and abuse and through faith lays a pathway to redemption. Walker excels at dialogue and crafting characters real enough to walk off the pages. You'll share their pain and victories in this inspiring story of hope, in rising above the things that can keep us bound." Jenny Knipfer, Author of By the Light of the Moon Series

 

Worthless. That's how Ella feels every time she wakes up. But when meth jolts through her veins, the ugly voice that tells her she isn't enough goes quiet. Running away from home seems like her open door to freedom, but she finds herself in more trouble than she knows what to do with. A new friend, Tyler, makes himself available when Ella needs him the most and she starts to wonder if there is more good in the world than she saw before.

 

Tammy has enough blame in her heart for herself and her ex-husband, but that doesn't seem to help Ella get away from the abusive man preying on her or the death grip drugs have on her. Nothing Tammy says seems to make a difference with Ella. She leans hard on her friend Liz, while Liz prays for an intervention in the lives of her friend and her daughter.

 

Get your copy of Still With Us today and find out how Ella overcomes addiction, how Tammy finds forgiveness, and how Liz and Tyler, from We Go On, use all the hurt they've been through to show up when they are needed most.

 

⚠ Warning: This book deals with drugs and abuse and may be triggering to some readers. ⚠

 

This is book two in the Then Comes Hope Collection.

① We Go On

② Still With Us

③ We Grow Together

These books can be read and enjoyed separately, and each features its own conclusion. There is a small cliffhanger at the end of We Go On. While the characters from We Go On show up in big ways in Still With Us, the book itself is about mother/daughter pair, Tammy and Ella.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Regina Walker
• Release date: Dec 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393806219

Regina Walker

Regina Walker crafts compelling characters facing some of life's hardest challenges. Her heart's desire is to always point toward Jesus through the way her characters face challenges, relationships, and adversity. Regina is an Oklahoma import, although she was born and raised in the beautiful state of Colorado. She likes to curl up on the couch and binge-watch crime shows with her hard-working husband. When she's not wrestling with a writing project, she can be found wrangling their children, riding their horses, or working around their small hobby farm.

Book preview

Still With Us

Regina Walker

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Check out the latest about Regina Walker at http://reginawalkerauthor.com

Still With Us

Copyright 2020 © by Regina Walker. All rights reserved.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

Still With Us is a work of fiction. Where real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales appear, they are used fictitiously. All other elements of the novel are drawn from the author’s imagination.

Published in the United States of America by:

Regina Walker

PO Box 492

Jones, Oklahoma 73049

Contents

Dedication

Epigraph

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty

Twenty-One

Twenty-Two

Twenty-Three

Twenty-Four

Twenty-Five

Twenty-Six

Twenty-Seven

Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Nine

About the Author

We Grow Together

To my husband, Jimmy, and your never-ending reminders to write the book, edit the book, and hush about the book.

I love you.

If you know someone struggling with addiction, please know, help is available.

1-800-662-4357

One

I'm going downstairs, Ella. I'll be back in about thirty minutes, okay? Tammy stood up from the hospital bed and the nurse on duty took over, forcing the fidgeting, restless teenager to stay in her ICU bed.

I don't know why you are telling me this, my mom is going to be here in a minute, Ella said.

I am your mom, Tammy said.

You're crazy. You're not my mom!

Tammy stumbled backward and her friend, Liz, caught her by the arm, steadying her on her feet. Tammy looked at the nurse with wide, questioning eyes.

It's okay, just go downstairs, the nurse said.

Tammy went where Liz steered. Her body trembled, but with her lips pursed together and her breath held, she made it through the locking double doors before hysterics overwhelmed her. Liz guided her to a chair and plopped down across from her.

She... doesn't... Tammy sucked in air, trying to slow the sobs, recognize me.

She will, give her time. She knew who you were when she first woke up.

I've been forcing her to stay in that hospital bed since midnight. She thinks I'm some creep holding her down.

No, she's been talking to you.

She's been hallucinating.

That too.

I don't understand why. Tammy wiped her face with her hands and stared at the floor.

It was hard to get comfortable in the stiff, green chairs that occupied the waiting room. The swirls in the carpet seemed to move of their own volition, or at least, the longer one was there and without sleep, they seemed that way.

You still need to eat something, Liz said.

I'm not hungry. Tammy gathered her long, dark hair to one side and twisted it with her hands.

You need to keep up your strength. Liz gazed at her friend, adding, I don't think you should stay up here alone. Let's walk down to the cafeteria and get breakfast.

Just something small.

A scoop of eggs and some fruit would do wonders for you.

Not being here would...

That's not what I meant.

The women stood from their chairs and Tammy trailed behind her friend through the corridors, down in the elevator, and over to the cafeteria. Tammy took a seat, again protesting the idea of eating anything. Liz wouldn't hear it, however, so she made her friend a plate with eggs, fruit, sausage, and an English muffin.

You probably think I'm lucky. Tammy shifted in her seat and stared at the food Liz set in front of her.

No, you're not lucky. Why would I think that? Liz sat across from her friend, with a plate of her own. Pulling two bottles of orange juice from her hoodie pocket, she set them on the table.

But you're thinking I still have my kid. Why am I so torn up by all of it? I have time to fix all of this, Tammy's words left her in a rush, her jaw tensed.

No, I'm not.

Then what? What are you thinking about all of this? Tammy locked eyes with Liz.

It ties my stomach in a knot for you. I ache and I know you are hurting and scared. This doesn't feel like a chance to fix all of this because you have no idea how you got here or how to even begin fixing anything or if it is even possible to fix any of it. You are grieving what was and lost in what is. Your pain is real, and it is valid, and it is not competing with or compared to my pain. It is its own pain, and you have every right to feel it and experience it and you must learn to live with it. And it sucks so bad, all of it.

Tammy's expression softened, and she blew out the air trapped within her lungs. A nurse who lost a child to suicide told me I'm lucky two days ago. I don't feel lucky. I'm, she looked down at the ground, her cheeks reddening with shame, I'm terrified.

Reasonably so. You know, there are stigmas for me, too. Like, we are in the wrong socioeconomic class to lose someone to suicide. We have access to better health care and better mental health services, so this shouldn't happen to us. Was I too busy to notice my kid was in trouble emotionally?

I thought none of that.

But some people do. Sometimes you have to kick stigma in the face and just own your story. Even if parts of it suck this bad and you don't want them.

The cafeteria staff set a pan of fresh bacon into the buffet, and the salty aroma filled the room. Although they were two of only four people in the cafeteria when they arrived, the room was teeming with nurses and families before they finished. Liz dabbed the corners of her mouth and laid her napkin over the small bits of remaining food on her plate. Tammy snatched both plates and shoved her chair back.

I'm ready to go back up to Ella.

Sure. Let's stop on the third floor on our way up.

Why?

Please?

Tammy pushed the elevator button, and the door sprang open. She pressed the button for the third floor once they were inside, muttering under her breath about not needing anything from there. When the doors opened, Liz led the way to a cream-colored door in the middle of a navy-blue wall. Above the door was the Ronald McDonald House logo.

Why are we here? Tammy asked.

Liz opened the door and took Tammy inside. She showed her the family area, with more comfortable seating than the hospital room offered, the kitchen where there were some provided snacks and space to keep and make food, and then she walked her over to the laundry and shower area.

I know you won't go home, but today you are coming down here for a shower and a break. I'll sit with Ella while you do that.

You haven't gone home either.

I know.

The women left the Ronald McDonald House and made their way back to the elevator. Tammy stopped to look at a water-filled glass wall, which had bubbles traveling upward and color-changing lights. She reached out and touched the glass as she watched the bubbles go up. The color-changing lights and quiet hum of the thing caused her to relax a little, and she sighed.

They don't know if the hallucinations will stop or if she'll ever act her age again.

I know.

I don't know if I'm strong enough to raise a perpetual two-year-old.

You are.

Easy for you to say.

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They are releasing Ella to Cedar Creek, Tammy said into her cell phone.

That's good news, right? Are you going to take her in your car? Liz asked.

No, she has to ride over via transport. Besides, I rode in the ambulance and don't have my car. I can ride to Cedar Creek with her though.

Oh, that's right. I'll meet you over there. I'm so glad she's doing better.

You don’t have to do that. You’ve been here every day.

I’m happy to. Besides, isn’t Wes still out of town?

Yes, he is. Are you sure you don’t mind? Tammy paced the hospital room.

I’m sure.

It's hard to believe that it's only been five days. She hasn’t forgotten who I am again, either.

That is so good, my friend. How soon will you be leaving the hospital?

They said about an hour.

Okay, I'll meet you at Cedar Creek, Liz said.

Ella stood at her hospital room window, taking in the marvelous view of the atrium. Planted with a variety of shrubs, greenery, and flowering plants, it seemed like an oasis in the desert.

I don't want to go to Cedar Creek, Ella said.

You don't have a choice.

I won't do it again, I swear.

We've got to get you help, baby girl.

How many times do I have to tell you? I wasn't trying to commit suicide. I was just trying to get high!

We still need to get you help, Tammy said.

Can I talk to Jeremy while I'm in there? Ella crossed her arms.

No. You shouldn't be talking to him out here.

Then I'm not going. In fact, I'm leaving the hospital and you can't stop me.

The nurse tech sitting at the small table by the door lifted her head from her book and watched as Ella crossed over to the bed and sat down to pull her shoes on. She dialed a number on her little hospital-issued phone.

Security. Room Nine-One-One-Two. Stat.

Less than thirty seconds passed, and two nurses came through the door, ready to help the tech keep Ella in her room.

This isn't right. They should allow me to leave.

You can't leave Ella. You need to go to Cedar Creek for an evaluation and to make sure we don't end up right back here again, the shorter, blond, female nurse said.

I don't want to go to Cedar Creek.

You don't have a choice, the taller, dark-haired, male nurse said.

Tammy packed the last of her things into her backpack and sat in the chair along the wall. Might as well sit down until transport gets here.

Your mom is right, the blond nurse said.

Ella paced the floor on the other side of the bed. She studied the nurses as she considered trying to get past them, but in the end, she never tried it. The two nurses escorted her and her mom down with the transport driver and made sure she was in the vehicle. She rode with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrows scrunched.

Got yourself a one-way ticket to a Cedar Creek vacation, huh? The young male driver chortled.

It's not funny, Tammy said.

Oh, it's serious. He frowned.

Not that serious, Ella said.

You tried to kill yourself, Tammy said.

Suicide, huh? I transport people every day that have tried that and have to go to one of these mental hospitals. Bet you wish it had worked now, huh? He laughed again as he navigated the city streets.

Are you serious? Tammy leaned forward in her seat and stared at him. I don't think that's something you say to somebody who almost took their own life.

Well, then, what do you say to them? Hey, selfish, that was real cool, wrecking your mom's life? Chill out, lady.

Tammy stiffened and looked around the dash for any identifier in the van. I'm calling your boss.

Go ahead. He doesn't care as long as I get you there. We don't get paid squat for these transports.

I don't believe that. I'm sure my insurance is being billed a hefty fee for this seventeen-mile drive.

You know what? You're right, I wish it had worked. Can you two just shut up? Ella shoved her shoulder into the side of the van and slumped.

Don't talk to me like that, Tammy said.

That's it, tell her Mom. The guy snorted when he laughed.

Two

Empty your pockets, please. Jacket off. The burly man behind the table pushed a large plastic tote in Tammy's direction.

What do you do with my stuff? she asked.

Put it in the cabinet, he pointed, for safekeeping.

I'll just take it out to my truck.

Yes, Ma'am. You can buy concessions with a debit card or cash. And I'll hang your keys on my board if you'd like. Bring your ID back in with you. Photo ID.

Yes, Sir. Tammy turned on her heel and hustled back to the truck. She tugged her jacket off and pulled her lip balm out of her pocket. Walking back to the building, she held her ID and debit card in one hand, and her car keys in the other.

Nothing in your pockets? The man asked with an air of authority.

Nothing.

He instructed her to stand with her legs wide and her arms straight out. He traced her outline with his detection wand, and when it made no errant noises, he beamed a welcoming smile at her.

You're here to see?

Ella Hale, please.

It will be about twenty minutes before they bring her up. Pick a game to play with her if you like. He pointed toward a basket of card games.

Tammy waved the basket off and made her way toward a table.

Ma'am, the burly man thundered.

Yes? Tammy wheeled around.

It's hard to sit here and think of things to say for an hour in this setting. A game will be a lifesaver.

Thank you. Tammy plucked an Uno deck from the basket, then went back toward the table and chairs. She'd never been to Cedar Creek, or any place like it. She had no idea what to expect. Shuffling the cards, she tapped her toe on the floor under the table. Waiting to see Ella after five days of not seeing her felt like an eternity. She continued to fiddle with the Uno cards to pass the time and quiet her fears.

An aide ushered Ella through the locked doors near the concession counter, and Tammy stood up.

Hey, baby girl.

You didn't have to come. Ella slumped into the seat, huffing.

But I wanted to. How are you doing?

They have me caged like a rat or something. This is stupid. Why am I even here?

Because you tried to kill yourself and we have to figure out why.

No, Ella's voice raised, I tried to get high. Big difference. And it's my life, I get to do what I want with it.

You're still just a kid. There's more to life than getting high.

Not like you would know. Ella crossed her arms over her chest.

Tammy dealt the Uno cards and Ella instinctively picked up her hand. They began playing and a tense silence settled between them. Ella won the first hand with little said.

Do you want something to eat before we play again? Tammy motioned toward the concession area.

They have actual food over here, not the cardboard, flavorless stuff they feed us every day.

They abandoned the Uno cards on the table and walked over to read the menu hanging above the counter. Like mother, like daughter, they both ordered a cheeseburger and chips. The gentleman took the payment from Tammy and told them it would be twenty minutes. Tammy checked the time. It had only been twenty minutes since their visit started. They had forty minutes left to spend together.

Do you know when I'm supposed to get out of this dump? Ella asked when they returned to their chairs.

No one has told me what to expect.

Can't you just check me out?

Not really. I asked about that. But since they consider you a risk to yourself, they won't let me do anything.

Ella rolled her eyes and shuffled the Uno cards. Tammy stared out the window, watching another girl coming toward the side entrance. She wore a stiff, all-blue outfit.

Are her clothes made of—

Paper. Ella grimaced.

That must be terrible.

That's what they made me wear for the first twenty-four hours.

Really? Tammy's face fell. She stared down at the table and tears moistened her eyes. How did we end up here?

Ella laughed aloud. The sound was almost maniacal, and Tammy jerked her