“Oh, don't get me wrong, there's a level of recovery that can be achieved that is amazing and wonderful. But yeah, it still needs to be maintained. She’ll have to make space for it.”
I wipe away a stray tear. “Thanks. That actually makes me feel hopeful for my sister for the first time in like two days.”
“I'm glad,” he says, gripping my arm.
“She apparently had a really good thing going with some boyfriend I’ve never met, who’s also in recovery. And it was kinda like what you said with Justin—she started missing meetings and hanging around people who weren’t going to support her sobriety. Her boyfriend called her out on it, and she threw him out.”
He drops his head, nodding. “That’s…yeah, that’s tough. When you love someone and can see them going down a hard path…it’s hard to know what to say and when to say it. It’s been a bit of a balancing act between me and my brother.”
What little I know about Jason, his parents have completely washed their hands of him and his brother. Even after the suicide attempt. Just as I’m wondering how lonely he must get, a familiar figure walks through the door.
Acting Sheriff Patrick Phillips, still in uniform, strides right up to Jason and gives him a hug.
“Hi,” he says warmly, moving Jason’s hair off his forehead.
“Hi, uh, Sheriff Phillips,” Jason says, glancing at me as he fidgets with his fingers.
Patrick pulls back, then follows Jason’s line of sight.
“Oh, um. Hello. Colt, right?” he asks, taking off his hat to run his huge hand over his smooth-shaved head.
I smile and act as though I didn’t see what I totally just saw. Like, that’s not a hookup hug Jason just got from Patrick. That’s aDaddyhug if I’ve ever seen one.
More to the point, Desi was telling me the other day that the good sheriff has arrested Jason at least three times now. But when Justin attempted suicide, Patrick was the one to call Jason and was at the hospital whenever he had a spare minute.
They both turn to me, anxiety marring their features. I hold up my hands. “What a coincidence that we’re all here at the same time.”
They look at each other, then me, and nod. Patrick sets his department-issued cowboy hat back on his head. “Not meaning to pry, but is everything okay with you, Colt?”
I nod. “It’s getting there. I just checked in a family member for a quick refresher.”
“Oh, just like we had to do with Justin,” he says, gesturing to Jason.
Jason bites his lip, then plays along. “Yeah, uh. I already told Colt about that.”
“Oh good.” Patrick takes his hat off again, looking agitated.
I’m no fortune teller, but I’m guessing the upcoming election for his position is stressing him out.
“Well,” I say, clapping my hands together, “I’ve got to take off. Jason, see you around town?”
Jason nods, edging closer to Patrick. I give Patrick a jaunty salute and turn toward the door.
“Colt,” Patrick rumbles, stopping me mid-stride.
I turn on my heel. “Yes, Sheriff?”
“Oh, it’s just acting sheriff right now.”
I roll my eyes—I’m new in town, and even I know Patrick’s been running the show for years.
He continues, “Anyway, I just didn’t want you to think—”
I hold up my hands again, interrupting him. “I don’t think anything, Sheriff. And I certainly don’t talk about anything either.”
He slips his hat back on, sending me a single nod. “Thanks, Colt.”
With one final wave, I turn and head out.
