18
THREE WEEKS AFTER MEETING Elle at the bank, the hope is stillstrongwith this one.
And by this one, I meanme.
She hasn’t called or sent a message, but I imagine she’s still handling new work stuff—especially given that social workers apparently have to deal with government red tape and other related bullshit—and she’s probably just busy. In the meantime, I’m busy patting myself on the back for sniffing out this recovery coaching thing for Archer, becausehe’sdoing better than I’ve ever seen.
These hard-asses somehow convinced Archer to check himself into rehab onday one. I’ve never been able to get him to do that without him having a near-fatal overdose first, and I’m thinking theserecovery coachesare more like ex-military drill sergeants. And maybethat’swhat I should’ve done instead of going into sales. Maybe if I were a battle-hardened vet used to dealing with scumbags in a war zone, dealing with my whiny, problematic brother would be cake by comparison.
But never mind. Archer’s drill sergeant recovery coach managed to get him clean after only two weeks, and then picked up with their program the same day he got out. They’ve put so much shit on his plate that he doesn’t even havetimeto go sniff out a fix and relapse. And he honestly doesn’t even sound like hewants to.
“I shoulda done this years ago, man,” Archer’s saying as he flips through his GED prep textbook. The bookanda large notebookandhalf a dozen pens are splayed across the table at Pershing Square, an upscale cafe right across from Grand Central Station where I took him to lunch this particular Saturday. It’s a little high-end to dump a bunch of school supplies all over the damn place, but Archer seems so excited about his GED course that I’m not going to discourage him by telling him to pack up his shit and make room for the actual food. “Like, look at this shit. It’s from frickin’Black Beauty.” He raises the pitch of his voice to a nasal inflection. “Who’s the narrator in this passage?”He scoffs and returns to his normal voice. “The fuckin’horse, dumbass.Duh.”
I chuckle into a cup of black coffee before taking a sip. “Yeah, you probably should’ve done it years ago. It’s reallynotthat hard, and you are actually pretty smart, Archer.” I set down the coffee. “Which is why you drive me fucking crazy with all this bullshit you’ve been pulling for years. You’re too damn smart to act so damn stupid.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know,” he mumbles, flipping the page and skimming it before looking up at me with clear, focused eyes that are prolifically rare. “I just needed something to focus on that wasn’t justnotusing. Y’know? Like if the whole objective is just to keep me from using, it’s like… okay,and? Now what? What else? I need to do something while I’mnot doingthat. Y’know?”
I offer a subdued, but proud smile. “I do know.”
“And that’s what these people are having me do.” Archer gestures with an open palm at the book and then picks up his glass of Coke to take a long sip from the straw. “I go to work in the morning, then after that I go to a meeting, and then after the meeting I go to my prep course, and then I gotta go home and study.” He sets down the glass and then points at me. “And the job they found me is over at the Booth Theatre. I mean… I’m just a frickin’ janitor,but…because I’m just a janitor, I get to go all over this damn place. Like I’m sweeping backstage andonthe stage, and sometimes, when I’m pretty sure nobody’s in the room…” He pauses to laugh and lowers his voice. “I’ll do that monologue from The Tempest. Y’know, the one I did back in fifth grade for that frickin’ variety show. I was Caliban.”
I mirror his low laugh and nod. “I remember. You were pretty great.”
Hewasgreat. It was a great fucking night, and I was fucking proud as hell. And the very next week, I had to abandon him because our dad threw me against a wall full of oak shelves and was about to beat my head with one of the broken boards. So I hitchhiked to the Reyes’ estate.
Archer laughs louder and slaps his palm on the table. “Anyway, I do that sometimes. This main coach of mine is always like, ‘You gotta see yourself doing what you want to do, Archer. Imagine yourself there.’ Some of the ways these people talk seems kinda woo-woo, but they got a point. Y’know? Like, I get up there on the stage to sweep, and I can see myself up there actuallyperforming. It gives me something more than just staying clean to hope for.”
I could hug him right now, but we don’t reallyhug. I’m sure that’s a side-effect of how our parents treated us, but nevertheless. The fact that I feel like hugging him instead of wanting to deck him for being a fucking dumbass is definitely indicative of progress on both our parts.
And he just said he hashope.
Neither of us have had a lot of hope.
And now Archer’s got hope for his future, and I’ve got hope for cheesecake at Eileen’s in my near future.
I offer an approving nod. “That sounds awesome, Archer. I feel better and better about how much money I paid these people.”
He holds up his hands in front of him. “It’ll totally be worth it, Colin. Just watch.”
I lean back in my chair and pick up my coffee again. “I’m watching.”
Archer nods absently as he skims his gaze over the books again before it catches on something across the restaurant.
He kicks me under the table. “That guy’s looking at me.”
I level a deadpan look at him. “No.”
Archer raises his eyebrows and leans across the table. “He’s totally looking at me.”
“That doesn’t matter,” I retort without missing a beat. “This is not the time to get involved with someone.”
He flips his palms. “Why not? I’m clean. I have a job. I’m two weeks from getting my GED. I’m going to my meetings every single—”
“Oh yeah? And what does your woo-woo life coach have to say about youdatingright now at the very fuckin’ beginning of all this?”
He hitches a shoulder. “I haven’t asked her, but Iwill.”
“Yeah, well.” I cast a discreet glance sideways at the umber-skinned, muscle-stacked male with a shaved head and perfect goatee across the restaurant, who’s casually shooting the breeze with an attractive brunette woman who’s obviously his platonic friend. “You go ahead and do that, and I would venture to guess that she would tell you to hold your damn horses and take this one step at a time.”
