“Of course I am. These guys want whatever they’re looking for, and they’re willing to break some bones to get it.”
He flipped open his pad of paper. “Are you and Miss Sophie back in touch these days?”
Fuuuuuck. The cop’s blue eyes lifted to mine, and I’m sure he saw me hesitate. “I’m going to tell you something, but try not to get Sophie in trouble.”
He made a little grunt of acknowledgement.
“I attend a Narcotics Anonymous meeting on Wednesdays at the Catholic church. And Sophie runs the Community Dinner that happens afterward. I have seen her a couple of times at the church.”
He raised one eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“Yeah. You can tell that to Chief Haines or not. It’s your call. But if the chief flips, Father Peters might lose his best volunteer, or I might lose my drug treatment meeting.”
Nelligan reached up to pinch the top of his nose between two thick fingers. “Fine. Now tell me exactly what these punks looked like.”
*
Denny showed up later, just as I was switching off the TV. Daytime television was just about the most depressing thing in the world. “Hey,” he said as a greeting.
“Hey. Happy Christmas.”
He plunked himself down where Officer Nelligan had sat before. “You’re getting out of here tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Shit. It wasn’t that I loved this place. But I couldn’t even shower without help.
Denny nodded. “I think you should go to the Shipley family.”
“I didn’t call them,” I admitted. I knew if I asked them to let me stay there a little while, they’d say yes. But I didn’t want to be their problem.
“Sophie called for you. And Griffin Shipley is going to pick you up tomorrow when you’re discharged.”
“Oh.” Shit. I didn’t want that. But what was the alternative? My own father hadn’t turned up to see if I was alive. Sophie would probably take care of me if I asked her to, but I didn’t want her father to find out. “All right. Tell Sophie thank you.”
He rolled his eyes. “You tell her. Jesus.”
“Fine, I will. Today.” I’d kept her as far away as possible while I was puking and sweating. But now that I’d stopped, facing her again was still going to kill me. This recent bit of shitty luck only made me more of a liability to her. Thugs knew her name because of me. A trip to the hospital flattened me. I had money troubles again.
We couldn’t carry on like we had been. And telling her that was going to suck.
Denny turned to go.
“Hey, man—” I stopped him.
He looked over his shoulder.
“Thanks for all your help. I really appreciate it.”
Denny scowled. “Just doing my job.”
Then he disappeared. But not two minutes later Father Peters walked through my door. “Merry Christmas,” he said with the usual happy smile.
“Shouldn’t you be leading mass?” I asked.
He sat down in the visitors’ chair. “Already done. Twice. And last night at midnight. It’s my busy season. I look forward to December 26th. Nothing left to do but eat leftovers.”
“Sounds good.” My appetite was definitely coming back.
“I hear the Shipleys are springing you from this place tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” I wanted to protest this arrangement. But then I tried to picture myself opening up a can of soup and heating it in the microwave. One handed, without straining my surgical wound. “I’m such a disaster.”
Father Peters shook his head. “A disaster is someone who doesn’t try to take care of himself. Your father springs to mind.”
Oh boy. “You went to see my father?”
The priest nodded. “At first he wasn’t handling this setback very well.”
I laughed. “What a surprise.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t find it funny. When I look at your father I see someone who’s afraid to live. Losses terrify him.”
“He’s not scared. He’s just lazy.” It came out sounding angrier than I meant it to.
The priest rubbed his fingertips together. “I know it looks that way. But it takes courage to want things, and to pursue them. Staying numb means you can never be disappointed.”
Unfortunately I knew a little too much about that.
“But I told your father how we’ll you’re doing. That you go to meetings and help out on Wednesday nights. I get the feeling you haven’t kept him up to date on your progress.”
“I guess I haven’t.” But why would I? He never cared before.
“He was impressed, Jude.”
“But not impressed enough to show up here and drive me home. So I guess I’ll go to the Shipley’s. For a couple days, at least.”
“Good man. You can use this to arrange the details.” He pulled a small box from his pocket.
“A phone?” I couldn’t tell because there was Christmas paper on it. “Is that from Sophie?”
“She said to tell you it’s a gift,” the priest said, handing it over. “She’s worried about you.”
I flinched. “Yeah. I wish she wouldn’t, though. I’ll be all right. And if I’m not, well…” There were so many ways my life could blow up. I didn’t want her to witness any of them.