My heart was pounding as I drove north from the resort for my visit with Zac. I hoped he wasn’t still mad at me, and I hoped they were actually helping him instead of just throwing a bunch of pamphlets at him and expecting him to work miracles on his own.
The rehab facility Zac chose was a small blue house tucked into a cul-de-sac at the end of a tree lined street. I only knew it was the right place because of the small sign out front. Otherwise, I would have thought my gps was wrong. I wondered if the place had a waiting list. It didn’t seem like more than two or three people could be there at one time. Maybe it was for the best. I knocked on the door since the facility looked so much like a house.
I opened the door to a small reception area in the foyer. It was homey, but clean. The receptionist wore a sundress instead of scrubs. I liked the place already.
“May I help you?”
“Yes. I’m here for a scheduled visit with Zac Hanson.”
“I will let him know you are here. Please make yourself comfortable.” She gestured to a wicker couch placed along one wall. I expected her to call someone, instead she walked to the back. I heard her knock on a door. My heart leapt when I heard Zac’s voice in reply. He sounded calmer than I had heard him in well, ever. I took a deep breath, trying to borrow some of that calmness for my own spirit.
I was caught off guard by the tears that sprang to my eyes when Zac followed the receptionist out into the foyer. I had never been a month without seeing my younger brother before.
“Hey,” he said, running a tanned hand through his hair. He looked fit, but not skinny.
“Hi. You look good,” I told him.
He looked surprised. I guess I hadn’t said that to him in a while. It hadn’t been true in a while. “They have a little place set up in the garden with tables so we can talk.” He answered.
“Ok. After you,” I told him.
I followed him outside into a beautifully maintained garden with a few seating areas scattered throughout. I followed him to a table on the other side of the garden, almost hidden behind a huge elephant ear plant.
“How have they been treating you?” I asked once we were seated.
“Good. I like it here. It’s like family, without all the drama.”
“I noticed the house was small. I guess they can’t take very many people at the same time.”
“It’s all part of a bigger company. But instead of having one big facility, they rebuild small houses and only have 4 our 5 people in one. We cook our own meals together and go to small group together.”
I nodded. “It sounds like a good fit for you.” Despite hiding it with hyperactivity, Zac never did care for being around a lot of people.
“It is. We have quiet hour in the morning and in the afternoon. I think I would like to keep up with that once I’m back home. It’s nice to have downtime to think.”
“I think so, too. Maybe we can build it into our office schedule.”
“And tour schedule, once we get back to it.”
“I don’t . . .” My usual pessimism started to take hold. Then, I checked myself. “You know what? If other bands can make time for wild parties, we should be able to build quiet time in. We’ll put it on our rider, even.”
Zac chuckled. “I like that. I’m learning to deal with stress, too. They are teaching me to calmly walk away when things get overwhelming, instead of losing my temper.”
“That’s great! Maybe you can teach me?”
“If you think you can deal with learning from your younger brother.”
“I wish you knew how much I have learned from you already.
“You can tell me sometime.” Just then, his watch beeped.
“What was that?”
“Morning quiet time starts in 15 minutes.”
“Oh. I thought we would get most of the day together.”
“We will. The other people in group helped me cook a special lunch.”
“Now you are cooking for me?” I thought about the time I cooked for Zac, back when this all started. Back when I thought I could fix him through sheer force of will.
“Yes. We can eat right after quiet time.”
“Do we have to go to a special place for quiet time?”
“Wherever we like. I’m partial to those benches close to the fountain.” He pointed across the garden. They benches looked big enough to lay down on. His watch beeped again. “Five minutes. We should go on over and get settled, if you would like to join me. You can go back to the car and call Nikki if you want.”
“No, I think she was looking forward to an entire quiet day,” I gestured toward the benches. “Lead the way, little brother.”
“Isaac,” Zac asked, laying all the way down across the bench. I laid on the other one, our heads almost touching.
“Yes?”
“Do you think, you know, after this, we’ll be ok?”
“You know what, Zac? I think we will. Life might have a few more curve balls to throw at us, but we are learning to hit back pretty well, don’t you think?”
“Uh huh,” he said quietly.
I turned over in my chair to look at him. “You know, the interesting thing is . . .”
Zac’s watched beeped again, interrupting me. “Quiet hour,” he said, barely audibly.
“Quiet hour,” I said softly to myself. For the next hour, I imagined all my thoughts and worries flowing down into the fountain and away into some imaginary pipe under the ground. It felt nice to be calm, to be at peace, to be quiet. Maybe I was put on this earth to be my brothers’ keeper, but maybe, just maybe, I could keep them better if I didn’t hold on so tightly.