The doctor softened his tone, clearly deciding it was best to take a softer approach with his drug-addict patient.
“We ran the tests for traces of Zika and malaria and dengue and other tropical mosquito-borne diseases since you were very recently on a Caribbean island. We didn’t find anything. We checked for various other discrepancies and found large traces of amphetamines in your system, likely cocaine. What is happening to you right now is classic withdrawal. I don’t know your situation, Ms. Sweet, but I can recommend some highly regarded rehabilitation facilities that can help you.”
“I’m not a drug addict!” Janey practically screamed. She felt like she was going mad, like one of those people on reality television who are tormented on purpose by greedy producers who just want to make them cry. None of this made any sense. “Can you run the tests again? There’s some kind of mix-up.”
The doctor sighed and ran his hand through his thinning hair. “We ran the tests twice. Maybe this was a onetime thing. I don’t care. You didn’t have any illegal substances physically on you when they brought you in, so no one is going to press any charges. But like I said, I’m happy to recommend a counselor. There are options for you if you need help.”
She had speed in her system. She was withdrawing from cocaine? What was this alternate universe she was living in?
CJ looked at Janey and then at the doctor. “My wife does not do drugs!”
The doctor clearly didn’t have the energy to argue with an irate lesbian. He looked back down at his charts and then at Janey. “You’re also severely underweight, dehydrated, slightly anemic, and you have some problematic vitamin deficiencies. Have you recently changed your diet? Lost a lot of weight?”
Janey thought for a second. How much weight had she lost since that breakfast with Beau? It must be at least thirty pounds. She obediently recounted this to the doctor in the hopes that somehow the weight loss would supersede the drug issue.
“In how long?” the doctor asked.
“Two months.”
The doctor made a tsk-tsk noise better suited to an elderly woman. “Not healthy. You shouldn’t be losing more than four or five pounds in a month. And frankly, you were probably a healthy weight before.” He paused for a moment and stared down at the floor as if he wanted to give Janey more advice but decided against it.
“We should keep you for a few days and get you stabilized. Get some vitamins in you, get some weight back on you.” Vitamins. Janey thought back to the vitamins she’d been given in the IV at the retreat. What exactly had been in that IV? She made a mental list of everything she’d put into her body in the past few days. There was fruit, vegetables, fish, clay, and then there was the strange man who stuck a needle in her arm and gave her an IV filled with vitamins in the early morning hours. She couldn’t have been given speed at a wellness retreat. Could she have?
“I understand, doctor. I’ll stay as long as it takes to get healthy.”
When the doctor left, CJ climbed into the hospital bed with Janey. Sam wriggled his way on top of the two women.
“Ooomph. He’s getting heavy,” Janey said.
CJ rolled her eyes. “I told you.”
The doctor had given her some pain medication (no opiates) that should kick in soon and help her sleep.
“Hey wifey,” CJ cooed, pursing her lips in a kissy face.
“I have to hand it to you, Chakori.” It hurt Janey’s stomach to laugh. “You’re quick on your feet.”
CJ lowered her voice so the little boy wouldn’t be able to hear her. “Oh please. I’d marry you any day. So did you do drugs in the Caribbean? No judgment. Steven and I took molly last New Year’s.”
“Of course I didn’t. But something strange happened down there.” Janey closed her eyes and tried to sort through everything. “Miranda’s in this hospital, right? That’s what it said in the article.”
CJ nodded. “I think so. What do you think happened down there? You don’t think they drugged you, do you?”
“I have no idea.” She thought back to how this all began, back to breakfast, back to Beau telling her she was fat. She wasn’t fat. She thought back to CJ signing her up for SweatGood.
“Why were you so obsessed with my weight, CJ?” Janey asked.
“What?”
“Why were you so into helping me get skinny?”
CJ brushed Janey’s bangs off of her forehead. “Honey, I don’t give a shit what you weigh. I’m obsessed with what I weigh, but I’m more obsessed with you being happy. I thought you wanted to lose weight to get back at Beau. That’s the only reason I helped you. I like revenge. I’m like the bad guy with great hair in an eighties movie. Gain two hundred pounds if you want. I don’t give a fuck. More of you to love.”
CJ paused for a second. “You know…I think it’s a lie that all women want to be skinny. I think we just want to be told it’s okay to look the way we look.”
Her friend’s words made her want to cry.
“Get some sleep.” CJ stood up. “I’m going to take this super-sized munchkin home soon but I can come back and bring you dinner. Want anything special?”
“French fries,” Janey said as she let herself drift off to sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Ivy, we want to offer you this bonus as a sign of our gratitude for all of your hard work here,” Lemon said, pushing a check for thirty thousand dollars across the concrete desktop.
“So grateful, Ivy,” Ally added.
Ivy had told Ally and Lemon everything she knew about The Workout. She explained about the crazy classes the staff had described to her in great detail, the drinking and the dancing and late-night parties, and told them she was the one who called for the ambulance for Miranda Mills.
Part of her didn’t want to pick up the check they were offering her.
The two women smiled like leopards after a kill, lips stretched tight over their bleached teeth. The Workout was clearly no longer a threat. Their legacy as the most important exercise studio of all time was secure, for now. Ivy reached her hand across the desk to take the small piece of paper, written from Lemon’s personal account instead of the SoarBarre corporate account. This was surely something they’d be keeping off the books.
“I hope she gets through it okay. Miranda, I mean. It was awful to see her like that,” Ivy said, folding the check again and again until it became a very tiny cube.
“Oh, me too,” Lemon said, at least having the decency to stop smiling. “Our thoughts and prayers are with her and her family. We tweeted at them this morning.”
“Right,” Ivy said, putting the tiny cube into the pocket of her gym bag. “Well. You’re welcome, and if that’s all I think I’m going to head out for the day. I’m still really tired.”
Ally and Lemon rose at the same time.