It wouldn’t be easy for anyone.
Some would slip and require treatment for acute symptoms again.
What was so clear to me now was that the stigma and shame we put on addicts simply compounded the probability of a poor outcome. Judgment had no place within the context of the cure.
My new perspective made me want to be part of the solution with Echo and Roberta and Dr. Franklin more than ever. They’d shown me the other side of the moon—the half not spotlit by the negative aspects of the drug war. It was simply a matter of medicine and science, not fear.
“What’s that look about?” Tug asked from beside me.
“What do you mean?”
“You look like you grabbed a high-voltage wire in the rain.”
I glanced over. “It’s nothing.”
“You’re sure you’re okay?” He narrowed his eyes.
“I am.” I stood so I could reach across the table and spoon dip onto my plate. Grabbing a bag of chips, I offered some to Tug. “Here. Try this.”
He picked up a chip and tried the vegetable dip. “That’s good.”
“What do you want? Hot dog, brat, burger?”
“You gonna serve me?” One eyebrow went up.
“You bet.” I got to my feet. “You’re the rock star today.”
He gave an eye roll. “Burger with cheese, please.”
“Mayo, mustard, ketchup? Relish?”
“Just mayo. You really don’t have to serve me. I can—”
“I’ve got it. You’re the graduate. My treat.”
Tug smiled shyly as I went to get him a plate of food.
Whatever they’d done with Tug’s meds had leveled his emotions out some. Not only did he seem calmer and less reactive, he smiled easily now.
I made the burger he wanted and loaded it on a plate with a couple of hot dogs for me and an assortment of salads, which I took back to the table before getting a couple of small plates so we could each pick and choose what we wanted.
It felt entirely normal now to spoon tidbits I knew he liked onto his plate, refilling his drink as necessary while he talked with his friends about the plans they were making for the future.
“No, eat this first.” I poked a bit more salad his way just to be a pest. “Then you can have more chips.”
He shot me a glare, but dutifully stabbed a cherry tomato with his plastic fork.
“How long have you guys been together?” Jennifer asked. Her expression was as tender and warm as the one she wore for her husband, who had turned a corner and worked really hard to make his way back to her and their kids.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
“You hear that, Conan? She thinks we’re a couple.” Tug gave me a nudge. “Luke’s just a good friend.”
“Oh shoot. I just assumed, didn’t I? I’m so sorry.” Her grin was sheepish. “It’s good to have friends too.”
“It is,” Tug agreed.
“I miss seeing your parents, Luke,” she said. “Were they not able to make it today?”
I wiped my mouth before speaking. “No, unfortunately Dad’s got a bad cold, and they didn’t want to infect everyone.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said. “Tell him I hope he feels better soon.”
“Mom’s healthy, and she feels horrible about not being here for you,” I told Tug.
“It’s all right.” He shrugged. “It’s the thought that counts.”
“I have a present from them for you, but it’s at my house. You get it when you move into your new place.”
He winced. “They didn’t have to do anything special for me.”
“They wanted to. I have a little something for you too. I brought mine.”
“What is it?” He made grabby hands. “Gimme. I want it.”
I laughed at his blatant greed. “So it’s okay for me to get you things but not my parents?”
“We’ve established that. Oh, wait. By the way…” He pulled out his wallet, took out a ten-dollar bill, and laid it on the table in front of me. “I owe you this.”
“No, you don’t.” I tried to make him take it back, but he wouldn’t touch it.
“I’ve been doing odd jobs to earn some cash. Take it.”
“I don’t want it.”
His expression turned stubborn. “Too damn bad. It’s yours.”
“You’re going to need every dime you have to pay for your sober living place.”
“I know that.” He leaned forward and spoke so only I could hear. “But I have to fix things between us. I picked you to use in the beginning. If you take this, whatever you give me now is a gift between friends. Understand?”
“I picked you,” I reminded him. “I picked you right up off the bathroom floor. I stayed every step of the way because you matter to me.”
He glanced away, blinking. “You’re trying to make me cry, aren’t you? Not gonna happen. Pharmacology for the fucking win, yo.”
“The night is young.” I nudged him again. “Here, try some of the pea salad.”
He watched as I spooned some onto his plate. “Is that ham and cheese in there?”
“Yep. Who do you suppose was the first person to say, ‘I’ve got an idea, let’s make a slurry of mayo and sour cream and then float peas, ham, and cheese in it?’”
He took a bite, made a yum face, and smiled. “Hat is off to weird salad inventors. Except those green Jell-O with carrot dudes.”
I concurred. “So I talked to Suzanne about covering my shifts while I move you to Santo Ignacio.”
“It’s Labor Day. Don’t you have back to back days off next weekend anyway?”
“Yeah, but I’m taking a few days off to make it a long weekend. I’ll have five days to help you get up and running.”
He picked up his water and took a long swallow. “There’s no need for you to do that.”
“Maybe I want to.” As I watched, he seemed momentarily annoyed by his plate. “Unless you don’t want me there.”
“You don’t—” He glanced at the sky. I followed his gaze. Almost unnaturally blue with cotton candy clouds moving slowly eastward, it was an absolutely perfect late-summer afternoon.
“I don’t need you to hold my hand while I cross the street,” he said.
“Noted.” Ouch. But maybe I was smothering him. The way Mom and Dad raised us—especially after my accident—was all for one and one for all. Nobody crossed the street alone, ever. “Sorry.”
“All I need is a ride down there. It’s four hours, tops. I checked.”
I considered my words carefully. “On the other hand, it’s Labor Day weekend, and a trip to the beach sounds like heaven to me.”
He bit his lip. “Oh.”
“Don’t worry about it. I can push through to a town farther south. I don’t have to stay in Santo Ignacio at all. I won’t get in your business—”
“No, that’s not it.” He let his hands drop to the table. “I’m not proud of what I did in St. Nacho’s, okay? I don’t want you to see the fallout from my time there. It’ll be ugly.”