Page 27 of Mountain Man Bad Boy

I nodded, seizing my opportunity. “Listen, Mike. There’s something I have to talk to you about.”

“Yeah?” He took a seat on the recliner that was obviously his, right beside the television.

I sat down on the couch facing him. There was no easy way to say it, so I just put it out there. “I can’t come to your cookout. I hope you can understand.” His face fell, and I hurried on to get to the meat of the argument. “It’s just that I feel like I’m not up to par with you guys. I mean, you’re all functioning adults, and the cookouts just remind me of the differences between us. It makes me want to drink.”

Mike opened his mouth to complain but closed it again. “I never thought about it from that angle. Just so you know, none of the rest of us think of you that way.”

“I know,” I said. “And it’s not forever. Just until I can build up a little sobriety.”

“Okay,” Mike sighed. “Will you at least join us for dinner?”

“Sure, thanks.” I smiled.

Elizabeth came bounding down the hallway, her hair damp and combed. “Porter!” she cried, leaping onto my lap.

I laughed, nuzzling her nose. Tammy emerged from the bathroom and stopped when she saw me. Her sour expression softened, and I could see I had elevated myself a notch in her estimation.

“Porter.” She smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

We sat down to eat, the four of us, a child’s menu of mac and cheese and corn on the cob. It was delicious. After weeks of bland food, the powdered cheese hit the spot, and the corn was fresh and sweet. I had weathered my first day of freedom, and it hadn’t been all bad. I would show Nurse Gina I didn’t need her support to stay clean.

14

GINA

It was Friday and I still couldn’t stop thinking about him. When I was at work, I caught myself looking around for him. It was an unconscious habit by now that only brought pain. I would glance through the common area, searching for his rugged shoulders, only to realize that he had been released. There was a new patient in Porter’s original room, someone altogether unappetizing. I remembered my first vision of him, shirtless on the bed, looking like some Hollywood actor playing a role.

On my days off, I drifted around my apartment, trying to keep busy. I took a bath, I went for a walk, and I read a book. No matter what I did, my thoughts kept returning to Porter. He was free now, which meant he was fair game. It might be frowned upon, it might be against the code of the twelve-step program but pursuing him wouldn’t cost me my job.

I wished I had someone I could talk to; someone I could confide in who would keep my secret. Cindy was wonderful for spontaneous party nights, but I didn’t feel comfortable sharing my intimate confessions with her. Mom would listen, but it was a bit of a chore to get to her gravesite, and she couldn’t give me any advice. I couldn’t talk to my dad. Even though we’d patched up our relationship, he knew Porter and likely wouldn’t approve of my seeking him out. My brothers were MIA, and I had no religious network or community of friends to fall back on. The way I grew up, with my family constantly in crisis, it hadn’t been easy to make or keep friends.

By the time I returned to work after my weekend, I felt truly alone. I kept up my façade until I just couldn’t do it anymore. Without putting voice to my plans, I went to the office to ask for some time off.

“There’s something I have to do,” I said. “I know it’s short notice, but if it’s okay, I’d like to take a week off.”

The head nurse looked up from her paperwork and smiled. “Gina, I always have to chase you to take your vacation. If this is important to you, we’ll be fine. I’ll redo the schedule for next week. Just make sure you submit your request to HR.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, hardly daring to believe it had been that easy.

I slipped behind a computer at the nurses’ station and logged on to my HR account. Putting in the request, I hit Send and felt a thrill race down my spine. I had done it; I was free. I worked out the rest of the shift in eager anticipation. Gone was the fake smile and the practiced courtesy; I was really engaged with all the patients I saw.

“You seem chipper,” Mr. Lewis observed as I brought him his medication.

“I’m taking a vacation,” I informed him.

“Congratulations.” He toasted me with the pills before swallowing them and chasing it with water.

My good mood didn’t escape Cindy’s notice either. “Did you win the lottery again?” she asked.

I considered the question. “You know, I think I might have. I’m taking a vacation.”

“Good for you,” she cheered. “Where are you going?”

I froze. The plan that was gradually forming in my mind hadn’t solidified yet. There was no way I was telling her that I was going home to Singer’s Ridge. She would know exactly why I was headed that way and it wouldn’t be to visit my dad and stepmom.

“I’m going to Florida,” I lied.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously but said nothing.

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