naming the first show that came to mind.
“Hm.” Jenna pursed her lips again and nodded. “Pops and I were watchin’ Breaking Bad the last night he went into the hospital. Did you know that?”
I sighed exhaustedly and shook my head. “No, but yeah, that makes sense. He was bingeing that shit for a while.”
“Yeah,” she said. “He told me that Jesse reminded him of you.”
I grunted, stuffing my hands into my pockets and tipping my head toward the sidewalk. “Oh, that’s awesome. I reminded him of a skinny, weaselly, loser. Nice.”
“He said it was because you both really try to make your lives better, but trouble just … finds you, I guess.”
I snickered, hoping I was successfully hiding the shock I so abundantly felt. “He really talked about that shit like I haven’t been sober for fuckin’ years?”
“Have you, though?”
The question left me gaping at her, shaking my head, and frantically thinking of how I could convincingly deny the accusation. Was it that obvious? How the hell had she known?
“What the fuck, Jen?” I spat out, while wondering if Moe’s former buddy had said something to him. Or whether Moe had seen a transaction? It had to have been him. How else would she have known?
“I’m just askin’,” she said, keeping her voice light and innocent.
“I haven’t done shit,” I insisted, turning away from her and storming back into the restaurant.
Moe stood at the register, waiting for the lunchtime crowd to show and give him something to do. I headed straight toward him, leaned my forearms against the counter, and said, “Jenna just asked me if I’m usin’ again. How fuckin’ nice is that?”
He shrugged. “Family worries, man. You should know that better than anyone.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get that. But what would give her the idea that I’m doin’ shit?”
His deep brown eyes looked from the screen of his phone to my face. “Oh, I dunno, maybe it’s just a vibe she’s getting.” There was insincerity in his tone, I could sense it, but I wouldn’t push it. I couldn’t, not without making myself look guilty.
“Yeah. Maybe.”
Jenna came back in and said, “Anyway, Vin, I just wanted to talk to you about the way things have been. Like, I know you have your own thing going on, but you gotta work on getting here on time. You have to. I’m gonna be going on maternity leave before you know it and I need to be sure you can hold down the fort. Either that or you gotta hire someone you can work with.”
In a split second, I went from angry to understanding her point. She was right. The pregnancy was still new, but time flies, and before I knew it, she’d be out of work and I’d be all alone at the restaurant. There was no way I was going to get my shit together if things kept going the way they were, and I found myself wedged tightly between responsibility and addiction.
I told Jenna I would make it a point to do better, and she responded by saying, “Yeah, well, I’ve heard that before. I’ll believe it when I see it.” The jab flicked at my nerves and tested my anger, but there was no denying that she, once again, had made a fair point.
After work, I headed home with it all weighing heavily on my mind. Walking down the streets and avenues, I recalled my time in high school, when addiction had been new and exciting. I’d struggled then, trying to balance schoolwork with the never-ending desire to get high, and eventually, I dropped out at seventeen. Looking back, it really was such a stupid thing. I’d only had one year left until graduation, but my dependency on cocaine didn’t care about things like diplomas.
Zach had been lucky, though. He’d already gotten his diploma. He had the privilege of calling himself a high school graduate.
Zach always got lucky, though. All things considered.
I resigned myself to talking to Andy. We needed to reel things in. I was struggling to balance life with leisure, and I could only begin to imagine how she was coping at work. She never talked about the hospital anymore, and that alone was worrisome.
Before entering the apartment, I braced myself. It was funny that I still had to do that, all those weeks after Pops’s death. But it wasn’t until after I’d collected my bearings, that I unlocked the door and went inside.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I called, emptying my pockets on the kitchen table.
“Hey, baby.”
“I wanna