Three
It took Mary a long moment to recognize the man in front of her. Too long, she thought, considering that every single day she saw something else in Pete’s face that reminded her of him.
“Oh.” She’d spent most of her life rehearsing for when she ran into Roman Townsend again. It was something that she worried about on a daily basis, for a little while. Then just once or twice a week, until now it was just something that kept her up at night. The questions raced in her head.
“Mary, right?”
She blinked. “Uh. I’m sorry. Do we know each other?”
He stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn’t expected that response. She’d hoped he wouldn’t. Because she had to get him the heck out of here. She was about to have a meeting for Christ’s sake! She was about to be dealing with people who were still busily putting everything they could FIND up their noses, and here was Roman Townsend himself, King of ‘stuff up the nose.’
He frowned.
“Yeah, we met a few years ago. It was… uh, it was a long time, but I thought maybe you might remember me. Roman?”
“Oh, right. Roman. Yeah.” She hoped that it came off like she didn’t recognize the name, either. He wouldn’t dare to say his last name, she knew. Because people were already turning their heads to face him. They already suspected that he was that Roman. And it was only going to get worse. “Hey, you know, I was just getting ready for a Narcotics Anonymous meeting, so…”
“N.A. huh?” He nodded like he was thinking about something. Mary didn’t bother to ask what he was thinking about it. There were a thousand other things that she was more concerned with. A million. He barely registered as a blip on her radar, and she hoped to keep it that way as long as possible. “You mind if I sit in?”
Mary’s eyebrow raised.
“It’s been a while since I… really felt it, you know? But it’s always good to come in. Maybe it’s fate, right?”
“Yeah,” Mary said. She pursed her lips. She wasn’t about to push someone away. She’d spent too long putting this life together. It was an important cause. One that she felt very strongly about. So she wouldn’t push anyone away, even when they were Roman Townsend, and they probably had no intention of putting that life behind them. If you could save one person, then you had to try. “Sure.” Someone came in and planted themselves silently in the chair. She looked over. Barron wasn’t doing great. “I’ve got to finish setting up.”
“Yeah. I’ll just take a seat, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Mary said. And then took a deep breath. She’d been sober seven years, nine months, and thirty-two days. She didn’t have the shakes any more. She didn’t think about it every single day. But she wanted it, and she wanted it more now than ever. Didn’t he know he was getting in over his head?
She reached into her shirt, wrapped her fingers around the medallion she kept on the chain. Time equals miracles, it said. Recovery equals life.
She repeated it in her head. She’d sworn to God that she wasn’t going back to that life. She wasn’t going back to him. She’d sworn it to God, and she’d sworn it to Pete, when he was just a couple of little dividing cells in her belly.
She wasn’t going to be one of those people. One of those party moms who ignore their babies so they can go out and get high. She wasn’t going to have a baby who was desperate for a bump of coke from the minute that he was born. And now that he was a beautiful little boy, she wasn’t going to let herself provide a bad example for him. She wasn’t.
So she sucked in a deep breath, forced herself to keep moving, and walked over and kept straightening out chairs. She needed to call Cara. She wasn’t jonesing. Not really. But she was a short walk away from it, at this point, and she needed to calm down before she found herself thinking how easy it would be.
The meeting would help, though, she knew. Being strong for someone else was the best way to be strong for yourself. And if you needed someone to be strong for you, then the Lord was always watching. Jesus had been tempted, just like every one of them in that meeting had been tempted, and he had resisted. Just like all of them had to resist. And they would resist. Somehow. She would resist.
Lara sucked in a breath, settled the last chair in, and walked back over to where Barron was sitting slumped in his chair. Like he hoped nobody would notice him. But aside from Roman, who sat with his legs spread wide like he owned the place, he was the only one there. And likely would be for another ten minutes.
“You doing alright, Barron?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said. His voice was low and sad. She looked at him. He looked sad. She knew that look. She’d seen it a thousand times in the past seven years. She’d been that woman, a few times. But she’d had little choice but to sober up. Barron… well, he had what he had.
“If you’re sure, then…”
A voice behind her surprised Mary. She spun. Roman stood over her, looking down on the guy.
“Hey, man. I’m having a hard time. Can you do me a favor? Just this once?”
Barron looked up at him glumly.
“What can I do? Not much, I guess.”
“I just need to pray with someone, yeah?”
Barron looked up at Roman like he was asking for him to move a mountain. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice little above a whisper. “I guess I can do that. You know the words?”
“I can’t say them. Not right now. I just… need some help. I’m away from home and I’m in a bad place, and…”
Barron nodded. His back straightened, just a little, as Roman settled in next to him. If Barron recognized him, he made no sign. Then again, without all the makeup on, not that many people would recognize Roman Townsend.
Roman took Barron’s hand and lowered his head, and then Barron started speaking softly.
“Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…”