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“My daddy knows how to help people feel better. He makes me some soup and gives me that pink medicine every time, and I always feel better fast. Right, Daddy?”

“That’s right.”

“Hopefully, he can help me too then.”

“Will you be here when I get home from school?” Victor asked.

“Stop asking so many questions and wake Theo up and tell him it’s time to go,” I ordered.

I hated the idea of her getting Victor’s hopes up. This was the third time she’d come to me, claiming to want help getting clean. The first time, I paid an ass load of money, only for her to leave the center during intake. The second time, she never showed up when it was time to go.

She resurfaced after four or five months saying that she thought she could do it on her own. Victor might have been hopeful about his mom getting well, but I wasn’t so convinced.

It was a little before seven thirty when I dropped the boys off. Not that I was holding my breath, but since I told Trisha to come back in an hour, I headed back home. I turned my radio up and let the music distract me as I made the drive. Less than ten minutes later, I pulled up to my house and was surprised to find Trish sitting on my front steps.

I ran my hand down my face as I prepared myself for whatever she had in store for me. There was never any telling with her. I turned the truck off and hopped out. She stood as I strolled up the path to the door.

“What you got going on, Trish?” I asked her.

“Right now, I’m hungry. I been out walking almost half the night.”

“I mean other than that. What’s up?”

“I told you. I want to get some help. You said you would help me whenever I was ready.”

“We’ve been through this a few times already. I’m not going all out for you again until you’re sure you want to get clean.”

“I am. I’m tired of not being able to do nothing for my son or even show up to his school when they’re having something.”

“That’s what you said last time when I gave them folks all that money.”

“I know. I know I messed up, and I’m sorry. I’m tired of apologizing. I’m ready to get it together. I’m tired of being a fucking mess. I want my boy to be proud of me. More than that, I want to be proud of me. I’m tired of this shit, Quint. I’m for real this time.”

“Come in. Let me see what I got to eat,” I said, opening the door and letting her lead the way inside.

Thirty minutes later, I sat on my back deck, watching through the kitchen window while Trisha ate the sausage, eggs, and toast that I whipped up for her. I made a few calls and was able to get one of the centers whose vans I serviced to put her on the list for a bed. The only problem was that it wouldn’t be available for a few days.

There was a place with same-day admissions, but it was completely full. I could have taken her to the hospital and went the long route like we did the first time, but I didn’t feel like going through all of that again.

I knew the testing and the whole process they put you through was what made her change her mind the last time. We waited for hours before we were even seen. This was the last time I was going to bat for her, so I needed to make it count. Determined not to get discouraged, I stood and went back inside the house.

“What did they say?” she asked, looking up from her plate.

“I found a bed for you, but it won’t be available for two days.”

“So what am I supposed to do until then?”

“Keep your head on straight and remember everything you told me.”

“All that sounds good, but I can’t even go home, Quint.”

“Why not? Where you been staying?” I asked her.

“We got a place across town. My old man ain’t no better than me, though. He uses and sells. I don’t even want to be around that no more and be tempted. We been beefing lately because I told him I was ready to get my shit together.”

“He should want you to do better.” I shook my head.

“I know, right. Instead of being happy for me, he talking about I think I’m better than him or something. It was one thing when we could smoke a skeester together here and there or smoke our shit straight up and kick it. Shit was hard sometimes, but we was figuring it out together. That’s when he said he had to switch the game up so he wouldn’t be smoking out of his own stash. I was like ‘OK, that’s cool or whatever. Baby, when he started selling meth, everything went haywire.”