Chapter 6

      Haunting Grounds

      Donna had spent her entire first night out of rehab alone at her parents’ condo. Everything inside the condo was different. Her parents had redecorated. Donna was sure that had been her mother’s doing. That she was trying to rid the place of Donna’s past drug use was probably what her mother had told herself while she had the condo totally made over. The unfamiliar surroundings had made Donna depressed. She didn’t know why she’d gone there to be alone when she knew that what she really craved was to be around her family, the old version of her family. The version of her family that had existed before her sister was banished from her home, sent away from them all.

      That night Donna had toyed with the idea of calling her sponsor from the rehab and speaking up about how desperately alone and abandoned she felt. How useless and neglected she felt because her sister Desiree was returning to reclaim her spot as the golden child. Donna had picked up her phone several times to call, but in the end, she’d decided against it. It would make her look weak, like she couldn’t handle being back in society without falling apart, she had reasoned. The loneliness had gotten to be too much to bear. Donna had decided she wouldn’t spend another night like that.

      The next night Donna pushed her way to the front of the line outside the Racine nightclub—one of her old haunts from her wild party scene days. It seemed like ages since she’d been at the club. She’d been gone for a little over nine months. Not even a whole year. But nine months away was like years in the party world. Things changed so fast, even the clothing trends. So now everything looked so different that Donna felt so out of place, like she was in a foreign land. But she was confident that the club bouncers would recognize her as the VIP that she once was and allow her to skip the long line that wrapped around the front of the building. Maybe confident was too strong a word to use, Donna decided. She was hopeful the bouncers would recognize.

      “Excuse me. Excuse me,” Donna huffed as she jostled her way through small and large clusters of bodies—different groups of friends huddled together, waiting to get inside. She surely wasn’t used to that. Waiting in line with the general public wasn’t something she had done back when she lived the fast life. She’d had money, influence, and popularity. She was so lost in thought, she ran right into someone.

      “Um, sorry . . . um, excuse . . . ,” Donna mumbled.

      “Hey, bitch! Watch where you’re going! There is a goddamned line, you know!” barked a girl with green hair, black lipstick, and safety pins for earrings, drawing angry murmurs from other impatient partygoers on the line.

      Donna ambled forward, stumbling a little bit. Her eyes were wide, like those of a lost puppy. She realized she had never visited the club unless she was high out of her mind. She had never known what the crowd was really like there. Being sober was definitely sobering. Donna wished she had something to take the edge off. She hung her head and walked faster through the crowd. Her mind raced. She realized that she’d never been to any of the clubs in Chicago sober. Everything had always been a blur, even the potential dangers out there. Being clean was opening her eyes to an entirely different world than the one she was used to.

      When she finally reached the front of the line, the giant, 350-pound bouncer at the door did not recognize her. He looked like a mountain compared to Donna. There was nothing small on the man at all. His arms looked like two tree trunks, and his neck like a thick side of beef. He was surely going to be an obstacle. Donna wasn’t used to obstacles. Things had generally come easy to her or had been given to her due to her family name, influence, and money.

      “Shit,” she mumbled, her pulse quickening, as she took a really good look at the bouncer. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number she’d been calling incessantly for the past twenty-four hours. Maybe he will answer this time. I hope he answers this time, she said to herself as she listened. But she got the same result she’d gotten all last night and today. No answer. Voicemail box full. Her shoulders slumped.

      “Hey! You! This look like a place for you to stand and make a call?” the bouncer barked. With his double chin and dark, hairy face and deep-set eyes, he resembled a grizzly bear. He was scary as hell.

      Donna blinked rapidly, her heart thundering in her chest. This was her chance. It was be brave now or never. She swallowed the lump that had formed at the back of her throat. A strong desire gave her imaginary courage and propelled her forward.

      “Um, do you know . . . ? Um, can you get Tommy for me? Can you tell him Don . . . um . . . Donna is outside to see him?” Donna stammered, her tongue seemingly not cooperating with her brain. Donna hated feeling like a scared little girl. Being sober fucking sucked. Had she been high, she would’ve had the confidence to march right up to that fucking monstrous bouncer and demand she be let into the club. She might have even been “drug courageous” enough to slap his ass. Not now. Donna had nothing in her system that could bring her old Donna back. She hated it.

      The bouncer scrunched his eyebrows and flexed his neck. He looked down at Donna like she was crazy. “I look like an errand boy to you? Get the hell out of the front of my line. You want to get inside to see Tommy, you get to the back of the