“What’s wrong?” He stood at the door and looked at the kitchen in astonishment. “What happened in here?
“Where did you put my stash?” Patrick turned to John, red in the face from exertion and aggravation.
“What are you looking for?” John put his arms around Patrick while he maneuvered him over to a kitchen chair.
“I want my pipe and my junk,” Patrick said, still pitching a fit.
John put a hand on Patrick’s knee. “Don’t you remember? You gave it to Dr. Harris Friday because you are going to stop.”
Patrick pushed John away and whined, “I can’t stop alone.”
“That’s why we are going to talk about the hospital Greg suggested. It does both rehab and takes care of the underlying psychological disorder.” He grabbed Patrick’s hand. “It’s close to home and after you finish rehab you can go on a daytime program and come back to be with me every night. Remember, we’re going to visit today, come home and make up our mind.” John got up and started to straighten the kitchen.