The balance in our checking account existed at zero for weeks. We lived on cash appearing out of nowhere and through miraculous circumstances. In the midst of our financial famine arose an absurd expectation: Scott's dad insisted on all five of us travel to Las Vegas for an Erwin family reunion. His Dad was on a quest to discover the family tree. He spent years in research and occasionally would travel the United States, looking for the branch of Great Aunt Millie twice removed who married Uncle Joe's niece's nephew, and add their story and pictures to the genealogy. Once he gathered enough of these twigs and branches, he would plan a reunion.
"We can't go! We have no money. You have to explain it to him." I begged.
"I can't tell him no! I have to wear the kilt. He is expecting all of us." Scott argued in his Dad's defense.
"Are you kidding me?" I thought, as I walked away from the pointless argument.
Scott worked out a way to go alone. His brother Rick offered him a ride. Rick was divorced and not over the death of his sixteen -year-old daughter, a year and a half earlier. Scott then could stay in his parent's suite. He wouldn't have to spend anything. Scott and I breathed a sigh of relief. His dad would be appeased and it would not deprive us of grocery money. When Rick came to pick Scott up on Friday morning, they seemed excited to spend time together.
Scott called that night to tell me that the dinner meet and greet went well. He said his dad was so proud of the new people he found. Scott was amazed to see what his Dad had done to find his heritage. To meet all of these people and hear their stories was humbling. He couldn't wait to learn more about them on Saturday.
On Saturday night, Scott touched base to say that the Erwin Day's activities were fantastic. "We're all going to go check out the strip. It'll be great to see what is new around here. I wish you could be here." he said.
Around one a.m., they all arrived back at the hotel and headed for their rooms. Scott and Rick said goodnight to each other as Scott slid the key into the door. He watched Rick open his and enter.
Early Sunday morning they all gathered for breakfast. Rick didn't make it and everyone figured he slept in. Lots of hugs, seasoned with promises to keep in touch, were expressed as everyone began their treks home. Scott assured his parents, "I'll be fine. Rick is just sleeping in. We'll leave soon."
Scott watched his parents leave as he settled into the hotel lobby to watch Vegas television.
By ten o'clock Scott became concerned. He rode the elevator up to Rick's room and knocked on the door. No answer. Banging and pounding resulted in nothing. Scott explained the situation to the front desk. Nonchalantly they escorted him to the room and opened the door.
The bed, undisturbed, gave mute testimony of Rick's actions. The secret habit Rick practiced for years had come to call.
Scott dialed Rick's number countless times, but each call went to voicemail.
Scott decided to look for Rick's car keys so he could drive himself home. Rick created this situation. He could find his own way out of it. Scott found no keys and then reality set in: he was trapped in Las Vegas with little money and no way home.
He called his Dad.
"Dad, Rick's missing."
"Huh, that's too bad. Well, we're almost home, what are you going to do?" his dad replied.
He called me. "You have to come get me."
"Where?" I asked.
"Rick is AWOL and I am stuck here in Vegas. You need to come get me."
I took a breath. "What do I do with the kids? Where do I find the gas money?" Stunned, I spoke with as much soft gentleness as possible.
Scott filled me in. Rick was on a binge and heaven only knew when he would turn up again. It was one of the Erwin family secrets. The only reason we knew about it was because the friendships I created with the women from Rick's two failed marriages. Once in a while, I would get a phone call from a frustrated sister-in-law needing emotional support. Now, Rick was alone. His marriage of ten years had ended two years before. He was single with no friends and no accountability. The rule of "keep all things personal a secret" was the Erwin Code. Even Rick's grief over his daughter was never spoken about. This Erwin guideline for living was the opened door to Rick's secret habit to descend in an epic spiral.
"Scott, you have to let your dad know that this is an on-going problem and Rick needs help. He needs an intervention and rehab." I said.
His response was a deafening silence.
"His lifestyle is now affecting others. There is no reason this needs to be kept a secret. Your brother needs help. You and your dad have to help him." I spoke into an abyss.
"Are you there?!" I begged.
"I will get back to you in a minute, Bek. My dad is calling," clipped Scott.
A few hours later, Scott called with a new plan. "Dad said I should take a bus home instead of having you come get me. I have a little cash, so I can take the red-eye. I'll just hang out until it leaves. Pick me up at the Grayhound Station in the morning."
"Scott, did you tell your dad what is going on with Rick? Are you two going to talk to him?" I asked.
Scott spoke softly. "He knows. Don't worry. Rick will work this out on his own."
Dumbfounded and grieved, I hung up the phone.
A few days later Rick called Scott and left a message on his voicemail. In it he apologized. Rick paid Scott back the money spent on the bus ride home. The subject was never brought up again.
Two years ago this week, Rick took his own life.
I often look back at that moment seven years ago. I wonder what would have happened if the Erwin code had been broken. What if questions had been asked, secrets exposed and, personal lives invaded upon because of the Vegas Fiasco... would it have changed anything? By the time the truth was uncovered, a year and a half later, Rick's job was on the line. Rick's dad was supportive and helped him through rehab twice: once as an outpatient and once as an inpatient. His sobriety after his inpatient stay lasted a little more than a year.
One day, the reality of loneliness that he created, and he augmented by the silence of the Erwin Code, came crashing in. He was alone, without support or family in Los Angeles. No one would miss him. Rick made his final decision.
My father-in-law found Rick, two years ago today, forty-eight hours after he locked himself in his bathroom and shot himself.
The silence was deafening.
