Deliver Her: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

and the kids commandeered the kitchen and spent the afternoon cooking. It was worth the mess that remained to see Alex and Jack beaming over their efforts. He hadn’t done that in a long time.
    Alex was out tonight, Jacob said—something about a study group. Meg could only imagine what they might be studying. Once Jack was in bed, she confronted Jacob in the den, standing between him and the television. He fixed her with a heavy-lidded stare.
    “I’m very worried about Alex,” she began. “She’s really floundering.”
    “I talked to her about the party, Meg. She promised it won’t happen again.”
    “I know a way to make sure it doesn’t.” Meg perched on the ottoman. “I found this place in New Hampshire that would be amazing for her.”
    “New Hampshire? You want to send her away because of a trashed house?”
    “Of course not. This isn’t sending her away; it’s sending her to a place where she’ll thrive.” Meg launched into The Birches’ philosophy, its success rate with kids like Alex, its family-focused approach.
    “You mean, we’d sit around and share our feelings with strangers? We don’t need that touchy-feely stuff.” He leaned around her to see the television. The salt-and-pepper waves grazing the neck of his T-shirt were out of character; he usually took such care with his appearance.
    Cursing herself for having led with that, Meg changed gears, pitching the school’s self-sustaining farm that taught the students responsibility, accountability. She didn’t mention she’d seen it in action—droopy-jeaned boys yawning while they milked cows at dawn. “You know Alex is crazy for animals. Remember Clara?”
    Clara was the matriarch cow at London’s, their local farm stand. They stopped there often when Alex was small, holding her over the fence to stroke Clara’s snout.
    Jacob smiled. “How about that card she made for Clara’s birthday?” The yellowed drawing was still taped to the farm’s register. “There are animals here, Meg. We’ll get her more hours at the animal shelter.”
    “She hasn’t volunteered there in months.”
    Jacob shifted on the couch. “How much does a place like The Birches cost, anyway? We’ve got college to think about.”
    “If we don’t do something soon, she might not make it to college.”
    “Don’t be so dramatic. How are we going to afford some ritzy New Hampshire boarding school?”
    Now Jacob chose to be fiscally responsible? He might have begun a few months ago by persuading his mother to scale back the Sweet Sixteen gala she had insisted on throwing for Alex. Their daughter would have survived. If they had to accept Miriam’s largesse at all, her funds could have been used to offset their mounting bills instead.
    But Jacob had balked. His mother just lost her husband, he argued; they should let her throw a party for her oldest granddaughter. Her mother-in-law had attached one odd stipulation: that her role in Alex’s celebration remain a secret, Miriam’s way of massaging her son’s ego, Meg surmised.
    “The Birches is considered therapeutic,” Meg continued. “It’s in our insurance network. We’re covered as long as Alex meets their criteria. They think she will.”
    “ Do they? So you’ve already talked to them.” He aimed the remote over her head. They sat in stony silence while a 60 Minutes reporter grilled an oily haired man about a phony drug cure he’d been peddling to desperate cancer patients.
    At a commercial, Jacob muted the sound. “Suppose for one second I go along with this. Do you think Alex will magically agree to go this time?” He stretched his legs alongside her on the ottoman. “She wouldn’t even talk to the school counselor. Or Dr. Fallon.”
    Dr. Fallon had been Alex’s therapist for a brief period. Alex had allowed Meg to sit in on the first session, probably because Alex already had decided not to cooperate. When Alex did volunteer something, no matter how trivial, Dr. Fallon would ask,