Addison (The Mitchell/Healy Family #6)(45)



“Who,” I asked.

“His family. I was there when they arrived. I was making my rounds, counseling the new patients and letting them know there was help beyond the hospital. My friend Sammy told me about my friend. I’d wanted to pay my respects, but walked in to find them hearing about his death. You should have seen them falling apart right in front of the doctor. That man was a firefighter. He saved lives. All it took was his wife taking his children away and he needed an out. The drugs made him forget his pain. They made him not care.”

She paused and wiped her face. “He’d been clean for three years. We shared many talks. I don’t understand what went wrong. Why didn’t he call his sponsor? If he did it on purpose I want to know why? What broke his heart so bad he’d want to give up?”

I hugged her tighter, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry, precious.”

She cried harder. For a few minutes I stood there just being the support she needed. When she finally calmed down she pulled away. “I’m going to head home. Take as long as you need.”

“Addison,” I called as she began walking to her car door. “Are you okay to drive? Do you want to wait and I’ll follow you?”

“I’ll be okay. Just promise me we can be together tonight.”

“I promised your dad.”

“I need you.” Her lips were trembling as she said it.

“We’ll figure it out, okay? I promise.”

Her sad eyes met mine. “You must think I’m a lunatic.”

“I think you’re compassionate. There’s a huge difference. Listen, when I was in the Army my friends and I were off base one weekend. We hit this bar close enough to walk to. This woman was standing outside with her kid. Her eyes were sunken in and she looked like she could use a few all-you-can-eat buffets. Anyway, her kid was skin and bones. It was a little boy, begging us for change. I didn’t hesitate, not because I wanted to help the mom. I wanted that kid to have a good meal. I knew what it was like to wake up to an empty house, even as early as five years old. I was in that house for days without food. I used to eat ketchup packets. One time I remember chowing down on a dry pack of ramen noodles, because I was too young to know how to make them.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Anyway, I give this kid a twenty and tell him to go across the street to the gas station and buy as many hot dogs as he can. My friends gave him a few bucks each and we went into the bar. About an hour later I walked outside to use my phone. The boy was still hanging out against the building. His mother was next to him, a needle stuck in her arm, while she sat there unconscious. She took that money we gave the kid and scored with it, instead of feeding him. I was that kid, Addison. When I saw his face I saw myself; I saw that little kid who didn’t know it wasn’t normal for someone my age to be left alone.”

“What did you do?”

“I took the kid and got him something to eat. Then, while he was scarfing down his food, I called the cops. They picked up his mother, and social services came. Here’s the kicker. I told him he’d be better off without her. No kid wants to hear that, but he needed to. When she was picked up, she never once asked where her son was. Not once. My point is, I’ve seen a lot of shit. I underestimate people’s compassion because of the horrible conditions I had to grow up in. I look for the negative because I can relate to it. Sometimes people like me can’t even be fixed. I’m sorry your friend died. Life is hard. It’s ugly, and there are moments when I feel like it won’t ever get better. Don’t feel like you failed him, Addison. You didn’t. You’re not capable of failing someone. I know this because up until I met you I didn’t like myself. You’ve changed that. I’m learning what it’s like to be around a living angel. The work you do is important. People need you, even when they can’t admit it. You can be sad for your friend, but you didn’t fail him. It was his choice, and his alone.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“I survived. Ketchup packets obviously have nutritional value.”

“Did social services take you from your mother?”

“Several times. I hated them. It wasn’t until I was older that I understood why. My foster family was like living with aliens at first. I barely spoke. I hadn’t been in school in over a year. I didn’t associate with other children normally. I didn’t tell you this to make you feel sorry for me. It’s about what you do. The world needs more people like you. We think we have it bad, but there’s always someone else worse off.”

“I’m sorry I went off on you.”

“Don’t be. I’ll be your punching bag, if that’s what you need.”

“I meant what I said this morning. I know it’s soon, but it’s how I feel.”

“When you know, you know.” We kissed, and as I pulled away she was smiling again. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

She nodded. “I’m sure.”

“I’ll be right behind you. Meet me at the trailer. We’ll head over to your parents together, as a couple.”

When she climbed into her car I made my way back inside. As fast as I could, I cleaned my station. I don’t know why, but I felt good about comforting Addison. I wanted her to know she could count on me, that I’d be there for her. Even if it meant bearing my soul to her, I’d make the sacrifice. She was worth it.

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