Ladies, are you sick of seeing your New Years Resolutions broken before January is even over? Are you desperate to stick to your plan to shed weight, curb excess shopping, stop procrastinating or quit smoking? If you can’t do it alone then let one of our Resolutions, Inc. team members help. Our professionals are dedicated, ready and willing to assist you in kicking those bad habits for good. Success guaranteed. For more information call 555-433-9762.

Chapter One Weed Killer

“You know, if they piss test you then you’re going to lose your job.” Gretchen half giggled, half choked out the statement as she cracked the window behind the couch where she sat with Sadie, who was pulling hard on the pipe. The tightly packed wad of glowing Kush hissed and crinkled in the bowl as Sadie inhaled. She threw her head back and held her breath as long as she could before exhaling in a spurt of coughs.

“Damn,” she said, handing the pipe to Gretchen. “That is good shit. As far as my job, I’m off today.”

“It’ll show up in your pee for over a month, Sadie,” Gretchen reminded her.

“Like I’m worried,” Sadie replied. “Jake’s never randomly tested us like he’s supposed to. I think it’s because he probably keeps his own stash at home.”

“Not as good as Ice,” Gretchen said. “And if we’re lucky…”

Sadie sat up, bleary eyes opening wide. “You mean Ace can get us some of that?”

Gretchen smiled dreamily. “He thinks so!”

“Oh, god, that stuff is killer,” Sadie said, remembering her first experience with what her friend had called the Champagne of Weed.

She felt her stomach growl. Doritos; she needed Doritos. Hauling herself off the sofa, she went into the little kitchen and began to tear through the cabinet of snack food they kept on hand for just such occasions. Twinkies, Cheez-Its, Count Chocula cereal to be eaten directly from the box and in the back - there they were.

Sadie ripped open the bag and helped herself as her friend scoffed from across the room.

“You are a lucky bitch,” Gretchen said, stretching. “You get the munchies worse than anyone I know and yet you never gain an ounce.”

Sadie shrugged. “Lucky, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Gretchen said, frowning at her well-padded thighs. “You can say that again.”

“Lucky,” Sadie repeated and dissolved into fits of giggles over something that would have otherwise been merely annoying. But her friend was right. Sadie was blessed by the kind of metabolism that other women envied. She could eat anything she wanted and still keep a firm body. Her best asset, she’d been told, was a very enviable ass. Toned and unmistakably feminine from any angle, Sadie was one of the rare women who could pull off keeping her hair bobbed in a short cut without looking at all butch. Everyone flirted with her - males, females - and Gretchen teased that if she weren’t careful all the attention might go to her head.

But the only thing that regularly went to her head - and the head of her roommate - was good old THC. Sadie had started out as a recreational pot user and still considered herself that, but in the mornings when she looked in the mirror she couldn’t help but admit the truth; she was becoming a stoner.

And Sadie knew she was lucky to work for a young guy like Jake who looked just as baked as she was on some days. Although ChemCom required regular and random drug tests, Jake Wheatley had yet to subject them to even one in the two years he’d overseen their small regional office.

“Want some soda?” Gretchen was up now, sifting through the contents of the fridge looking for a liquid sugar fix. Sadie was about to say ‘yes,’ when the phone rang. She debated answering it, knowing it was probably her mom. But when she looked on the caller ID and saw “Wheeler, K.” she picked it up.

“Hi Karen!” she said.

“Hey, Sadie.”

Sadie knew from her co-worker’s voice that something was wrong. “Everything O.K?”

“Are you sitting down?” Karen asked.

Sadie walked to the sofa and flopped down. Usually if someone told you that you needed to be sitting down, it was best to sit down. And as dizzy as she was feeling the advice went double.

“What?” she asked. “I’m sitting.”

“Jake got arrested last night.” Sadie tried to let the words sink through the Kush-induced haze.

“Come again?”

“Arrested.”

It still didn’t register. Jake was the most happy-go-lucky guy she knew. The idea of him committing a crime…

“For what?”

“D.U.I. They caught him at a roadblock Friday night after Jerry’s New Year’s Eve party.”

As the news floated in on slight delay, Sadie breathed a sigh of relief.

“Oh, is that all. God, you scared me. I thought he’d knocked over a convenience store or something. A D.U.I. sucks but it isn’t the end of the world.”

“No,” Karen said, her voice flat. “But it is the end of Jake’s job. Remember, ChemCom has a no tolerance policy on drugs and alcohol. Martin told me this morning that someone from corporate has already called Jake and told him he’s out.”

“Shit.” Sadie sat back on the couch. “I hate that. Jake is like….the coolest boss I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah, he is…was,” Karen agreed. “And also the most lenient.”

“Who are they bringing in to replace him?”

“Dunno,” Karen replied. “But I’m sure it’s not anyone as cool as Jake.” She paused. “Look, I gotta go. I just wanted to call and warn you because, well, I know how you like to party. And we all know that Jake liked to party, too. That’s why he never tested us. But that’s probably going to change now, especially if they bring in some company man who’s all hot to climb the corporate ladder. He or she is going to be playing by the book and I don’t know about you but I need my job. So from here on out my partying days are behind me.”

“Yeah, mine too,” Sadie agreed.

“See you at work tomorrow,” Karen said, and hung up.

“What’s wrong?” Gretchen was looking concerned. Her concerned look grew as Sadie filled her in.

“Damn,” she said. “That sucks.”

“Yep.” Sadie put her head back on the couch. She was still too high to completely care so she put the whole thing out of her mind. There would be plenty of time to deal with it, but not as buzzed as she was.

*******

When the alarm clock went off at six the next morning it felt like a jackhammer. Sadie rolled over, looked at the digital display and told herself this was the first day of a new life without pot. After she’d slowly come out of her previous night’s haze, she’d thought about her job. It had taken her months to land it; environmental studies and biology had been her double majors and she’d thought there’d be plenty of jobs to be had when she graduated, but they had been scarce. For eight months she’d pounded the pavement, feeling desolate and desperate until she found the tech position at ChemCom. She’d taken all the entry exams and had even passed the drug test. At the time that wasn’t hard because there had been no money for a beer, let alone weed. She’d never forgotten how depressed she’d felt when she’d been looking for work, nor how insecure. Sadie never wanted to feel that way again.

She flipped on the television on the way to the bathroom on the other side of the living room. The morning jobless rates did nothing to lift her mood. “..and the average time it takes to find a new job is now thirty-four weeks,” an analyst was saying.

Sadie turned on the bathroom light and blinked at her reflection in the mirror. She looked like a stoner, her red-eyes a clue to anyone around her that she was still slightly buzzed. Sadie knew no amount of Visine would fix this. She’d have to call in. That alone was upsetting; someone from corporate would be down to break the news about their new boss and she would not even be there to hear it. She went to the phone and dialed Jake’s number but realized he wouldn’t get the message. She’d have to wait until someone came in to answer his line.

The next two hours crawled by. At five past eight she made the call. An unfamiliar voice answered.

“ChemCom, Region Five branch. This is Derek speaking, may I help you?”

She didn’t know a Derek and decided to play stupid.

“I’m looking for Jake Patterson?”

“I’m sorry; he’s no longer employed at this location. Can I help you?”

“Um, this is Sadie Ashton. I’m a tech there. And, um, I was calling in to tell Jake I’d be out of work today…”

“This is a bad day to be out of work, Miss.Ashton,” he said. “I don’t know if you’re aware yet, but Mr. Patterson is being replaced.”

“I..I kind of heard something about that,” Sadie said. “And I want to be there but I think I’m coming down with the flu or something.”

There was an uncomfortable pause. “Well, these things happen,” the voice on the end of the line said. “How long do you think you’ll be out?”

Sadie recalled her reflection. Her eyes had looked even redder than usual.

“Couple of days and I think I’ll be better,” she lied. “My sister had the same thing and she was sick for two or three days.”

“Well keep us posted,” he said. “Look forward to meeting you in person later this week.”

Sadie hung up. Two days, three at the most if she could stretch it. Two or three days to find a way to clean herself up and she’d be OK. Unless, of course, they piss-tested everyone this week. Would they? She worried that they might, given Jake’s arrest. If that happened, it was game over. But until it did she needed to find a way to get clean. And fast. Gretchen would have to stop smoking in the apartment, period. Even secondhand pot smoke would show on a test. The smell of pot hung in their living room, clung to the fabric. It made Sadie want a joint; badly. For the first time, she admitted she just may have a problem.

But even if she did, she didn’t want to enter any kind of treatment program. Crestwood was a small town. The only drug rehab facility was right on Dover Street, the town’s main drag. She couldn’t see driving to the next largest city; it was an hour away and besides, those things weren’t free and it’s not like she could file it on her insurance.

The unread Sunday paper lay on the coffee table amid empty chip bags and Twinkie wrappers. Sadie picked it up and began to leaf through the ad section. Perhaps there was another treatment center close by she’d never heard of. None were listed, but in the middle of the section for services, an unusual ad caught her eye:

Ladies, are you sick of seeing your New Years Resolutions broken before January is even over? Are you desperate to stick to your plan to shed weight, curb excess shopping, stop procrastinating or quit smoking? If you can’t do it alone then let one of our Resolutions, Inc. team members help. Our professionals are dedicated, ready and willing to assist you in kicking those bad habits for good. Success guaranteed. For more information call 555-433-9762.

It sounded hokey, like a moneymaking scam. But the words “success guaranteed” stuck out to her. Sadie ran her finger over the number. It wouldn’t hurt to call, she thought. She considered herself pretty perceptive. If there was something sketchy about what this Resolutions, Inc. place was offering, she’d know.

She dialed the number, craning her neck around the corner as she did to make sure Gretchen was still sleeping. For some reason she could not fathom, Sadie felt ashamed. Perhaps it was because she had not wanted to admit that her pot smoking had gotten out of hand. Perhaps it was because she knew if she did she’d have to make some changes and some of her friends - even friends like Gretchen - would leave her. Sadie had never wanted to admit it, but aside from their love of grass, she and her roommate had little in common. Sadie was straight, Gretchen was a lesbian. Sadie liked rock, Gretchen liked emo music. Sadie had a career; Gretchen worked in a tattoo parlor. Sadie had found her through a posting on the community bulletin board at the local food co-op and while they’d never had an ill word, they weren’t exactly buddies either. Their entire social interaction involved smoking weed. How successful would Sadie be asking Gretchen to take her habit outside or somewhere else? And if Gretchen left, where would she find a roommate to help pay for a loft she could ill afford?

These questions ran through her mind as the phone rang. She was about to hang up when she heard a male voice answer.

“Resolutions, Inc. Ross Klein speaking.”

She hesitated. The man’s voice was deep. She imagined a serious-looking guy in a suit and sunglasses for some reason.

“H-hi,” she said. “I saw your ad and was wondering, um, how you guys worked.”

“How we work?” he asked. “I assume you mean our methods?”

“Yeah, exactly,” she said.

“We don’t divulge our methods, Miss…”

“Ashton,” she said. “My name’s Sadie Ashton.”

“Well, we don’t divulge our methods until the program’s underway. We simply guarantee results and after three years in business we’ve never failed.”

Sadie scowled. “How can you not discuss methods? I mean, you don’t even know which habit I want to break.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the man replied. “Our methods work for whatever habit you’re trying to break. And if they don’t you get your money back.”

“But you won’t tell me your methods?” she pressed.

“No,” he said. “They are a trade secret.”

Sadie felt herself getting irritated. “It can’t be too much of a secret, right? I mean, if I really wanted to find out then I could just track down one of your former clients and…”

“Wouldn’t do you any good”, he interrupted.

“Oh really… And why not?” she insisted.

“Because our clients sign a confidentiality waiver as soon as they walk in the door. Divulging our practices and methods will result in a big fat lawsuit. Women who come here seeking help with problems are usually smart enough to avoid future ones.” He sighed, sounding impatient. “But I’ve got more pressing things to do than argue with you, Ms. Ashton. So if you don’t mind…”

“Wait!” Sadie’s voice sounded hasty, even to her. Part of her, the defiant part, wanted to hang up on this arrogant sounding man. But he sounded so sure of himself, so confident. And she could not risk going into rehab.”

“What time can I come by and talk to you?” she asked.

“Hold on,” he said. She heard tapping and assumed he was checking an online schedule. “Can you be here at two?”

“Yes,” she said. “What’s the address?”

“1634 Mulholland Drive,” he said.

Sadie repeated the address to him as she scribbled it down. Then she hung up. She was tearing the address off the notepad when Gretchen walked into the room.

“Hey, who was on the phone?” Her roommate ran her fingers through the tangled mop of hair on her head.

“Just...work stuff,” Sadie lied.

Gretchen went to the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice. Sadie bit her tongue as she watched her roommate swig directly from the carton. She’d bought that orange juice; did it not ever occur to Gretchen that she didn’t want to share her germs? But then she thought of the countless times they’d shared the same bong and decided she was just being sensitive.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Gretchen suddenly asked.

“I called in,” Sadie said. “There’s some new guy filling in for Jake until they find a replacement. I can’t go in looking like I’m still stoned.”

“Speaking of which….” Gretchen reached into a cookie jar on the counter and pulled out a Ziploc bag and the pipe. “I don’t have to go to work until noon and since you’re not going to work, how ‘bout a quick buzz?”

Sadie looked at her, irritated.

“Do you not understand my situation, Gretchen?” she asked. “I could do this kind of stuff with Jake. I can’t anymore. Not with some new supervisor coming in!”

Gretchen stood there and Sadie watched as the full impact of the words sunk into her roommate. It was like Gretchen’s hearing and reason were on some time delay. Sadie wondered if she looked like that to other people.

“You mean not at all?” Gretchen asked quietly.

“No, not as long as I work at ChemCom.”

“That’s bullshit!” Gretchen said. “They can’t tell you what to do. Just find another job!”

“Find another…?” Sadie put her fingers to her temples, exasperated. “It’s not that easy, Gretchen, and I’ve worked too hard to just take some position in a….”

“What? A music store like me? Well excuse me, Miss-I’ve-Got-A-Fancy-Fucking-Degree. Not everyone was born with a silver spoon in their mouth!”

“Well neither was I!” Sadie shot back, getting to her feet now. “I busted my ass to get through school with no help from my folks. I’ve all but been on my own since I was fourteen so don’t you dare act like I’m the one who’s out of touch here. I simply want to make something of my life and I’m not about to blow just so I can smoke weed.”

Gretchen’s face grew hard. “Suit yourself, princess,” she said snarkily. “It’ll just leave more for me.” She began to tap out the dried, burnt-out remains of their last smoke.”

“And another thing,” Sadie said, softening her tone. “Since I can get this stuff in my system by breathing it when others are smoking I’m going to have to ask you to take it outside.”

Gretchen pushed some weed into the bowl and packed it down. Her gaze was defiant as she looked at Sadie. “Well fuck that,” she said.

“If that’s how you feel then just move out,” Sadie said her voice cool despite the hurt and anger that raged in her heart and head. “Because you aren’t going to be able to afford your share of the rent and buy pot, too; and if you recall who’s bought it since we moved in it’s been me.”

Gretchen glared at Sadie over the pipe which was now in her mouth. Sadie watched as her roommate lit the lighter above the bowl and inhaled, sucking the flame downward. Sadie took advantage of the moment to snatch the bag of weed off the counter.

“Enjoy it,” she said to Gretchen. “It’s your last free smoke.”