Archer’s eyes stretch wide. “What’s the fucking catch?”
“First of all, the catch is that this is an all-or-nothing arrangement.” I cross my arms over my chest and continue to pace, eyeing him. “If you uphold your end of the bargain, you will get one million dollars. If youdon’t, I will close your account and file a restraining order.”
“Psh.” He tosses his hand in the air and lets it drop onto his lap. “You wouldn’t file a fucking restraining order.”
“Oh no?” My brows crawl up my forehead. “I don’t think you have any fucking clue how fucking fed up I am with you. You are twenty-five years old, and I’m still wiping your ass and spoon-feeding you. You should bemortified. You look like you haven’t showered in weeks because I wasn’t here to remind you thathygieneisimportant.You’re an overgrowntoddler. It’s fucking embarrassing.”
Archer sulks, but his leg continues to bounce.
I cross the room to sit in the chair adjacent to the sofa. “You and I both know you can’t take care of yourself in the most basic fucking way a human being is supposed to be able to, and you and I both know you hate that about yourself. It’s time to do something about it. I have a plan to get you there, butyouhave to get you there.”
He sighs long and loudly. “What’s your plan?”
“You’re going to get clean, and you’re going to stay clean for ayear. I will monitor that by you submitting to drug testing every fucking week. If you piss dirty, your account will be closed, and I will be gone from your life forever by means of a restraining order. Is that clear?”
He waggles his head in a nod, still chewing his finger.
“Listen to me, Archer.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “I know you’ve never been able to stay clean that long, and I’m telling you that if you can do that, this monkey will be off your back forever. Iknowyou don’t like living like this. Iknowyou hate that I have to take care of you. Iknowyou’re miserable, and I know that you just can’t shake this shit. I am going to equip you to do that. I found this place that’s like having a sponsor on steroids. These people will come up with a detailed plan to walk you through every single aspect of pulling your life together. They’ll check in on you and keep you accountable and stay all up in your business so much that you won’t have a choice but to keep going. It starts with you detoxing, and after that you’ll get hooked up with counselling and other shit to deal with the root cause of this problem, then they’ll look at the practical aspects of your life. They’ll help you figure out a plan for an education and a real job and a place to live that’s not going to be full of temptation to relapse. Once you get through this program, you will be an entirely different person. One you probably can’t even picture right now. And if you can do everything they say, and stay clean, and stay out of trouble, one year from now, you will have one million dollars at your disposal to do whatever you want with.”
Archer’s staring out the window, and his eye rims are red. The sight of it causes that knife-twisting sensation in my chest again because Idoknow, on some level at least, that he hates his life as much as I hate mine.
“Who knows you better than anyone, Archer?” I prompt, jerking my chin at him.
He tosses his hand in a gesture at me, but says nothing.
“Yeah, and I know that there are things you’ve wanted to be and do that had nothing to do with drugs.” I turn my palm over. “I know you loved theatre. You were a frickin'phenomin theatre back in high school. You could do that again.” I sit up straight and gesture with both hands at the window. “This is New York City. Mother fuckingBroadwayisright fucking there.And if you’ve got amillion dollars,and you don’t have to worry about making ends meet like a lot of these aspiring morons who come to the city hoping to make it big,youcould be the one who makes it big. Or at least carves out a respectable career in theatre. That could be you. One year from now, you could literally be doing that.”
Archer drags his dilated, hazel gaze to me. “You think?”
I scoff. “Yeah. Idothink.” I lean forward again. “So are you on board with this? Because I’m not fucking around when I say this is your last fucking shot.”
He sighs loudly, and it morphs into a whining groan as he slumps so far down the couch that he’s halfway hanging off the edge of the cushions. “Fine.”
I know better than to get to excited, so I simply clap my hands together. “All right. This program has a slot available starting next month. You gotta fill out a shit-ton of paperwork to secure it. We have to go get all the files from the court. These people are going to know all the ugliest shit you’ve been through and done, but by knowing all that, they’re going to be able to help you.”
Archer sighs and sniffsagain. “Fine, Colin.”
I gulp discreetly as I eyeball him, anxiety pulsing through my extremities, because I still have no idea if this will work. Past behavior is the best indicator of future behavior, and Archer’s past behavior indicates that there’s literally nothing I can do that will ever fix him.
His past behavior indicates that I am destined to fail him.
16
IT’S BEEN THREE WEEKS since I took the licensure exam, and I still haven’t gotten the results. It was only supposed to take up totwoweeks, so now I’m going through every worst-case scenario and basically making myself sick over it. The stress of waiting this long has been turning my stomach every single morning for the past week. It’s also making me hyper-emotional. I’ve been sitting in with Georgia while she meets with her clients, and at least eight times out of ten, I end up hiding my face in the files while I fight the urge to cry over their various and sundry plights.
“It’s okay, Elle,” Georgia says to me one afternoon after we met with a new client; an alcoholic who got two DUIs and lost custody of her three kids. “It just shows that you have empathy for her.” She gestures serenely with an upturned palm at her open office door. “That woman has spent the past five years of her life being judged and condemned by everyone she encounters, and her seeing that someone actually feels for her is something she needs.” She lightly drums her unpolished, well-kept nails on the desk. “You can’t do a whole lot of good for these people if you don’t care, and you obviously care. You’re still new at this, so it can be jarring. After you’ve been working with them for a while, you’ll be able to control your emotions a little better. But understand up front that what you’re feeling is good and useful to them, and it’ll help you succeed at helping them succeed.”
I swallow and nod, dabbing below my eyes. “I do feel for them. I feel for her because she obviously loves her kids and misses them, and she obviously regrets her choices. Some parents justdon’t.” I pause and draw in a deep breath as I lean back in the chair. “But honestly, I think the waiting game with my exam results iscripplingme with stress right now.” I wave the tissue through the air. “Once I get that, I’m sure I’ll be more in control of myself.”
A smile pulls across Georgia’s face. “You’re waiting on a bureaucracy. They move at their own speed, which is prolificallyslow. It doesn’t mean the test went poorly.” Georgia spins in her chair to retrieve a small stack of files from the credenza behind her desk and then passes them to me. “Here. These are a couple of new people we’ll be meeting with tomorrow. Take the rest of the afternoon to familiarize yourself with them, and then let’s meet for an hour before you leave, and you can give me a sample game plan.”
I return her smile as I stand, clutching the folders to my chest. “Sounds good. Thanks, Georgia.”
She offers a nod, and I slip out of her office and head to mine.
I spend about thirty minutes reviewing the files when my phone buzzes in my purse.
Celia Huckabee: have u heard from C about *you know what*
