Throughout it all, Suzie had not given up on him, but realized that she did not know what to do to help him. On the last Friday in July, she phoned Lisa and Josie for assistance.
Jason laid in his bed that Saturday afternoon, totally oblivious to the car pulling into the drive way. Three women entered the house. As they stepped into the kitchen, they all gasped. Every dish, every cooking utensil, had been used. The sink, holding stagnant, fly-infested water, had long been overfilled. The counter was covered with plates, glasses, and pots with various unidentifiable food waste.
“I’ll stay here and start on the kitchen,” Suzie said. “I…I don’t think I can take seeing him. Was I terrible not coming earlier? When he never answered my phone calls, I assumed he didn’t want to hear from
