Chapter Seven
Reese knocked gently on Kerrie’s door, popping her head in. “I’m heading up to Tindle Street to do Leadership.”
She looked up from behind her monitor. “Great. Have you done Leadership yet?”
“No, not here. I did sit in on one when I was training. We had something similar where I came from. I am a little nervous, though.”
Kerrie’s lips turned up in a warm smile. “You’ll do great. It’s also a smaller group like ours, so hopefully that will help.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m glad my first go of it isn’t at Main. Anyway, I’ll be back after that. Text me if you need me.”
“Can do.”
Tindle Street was just two streets over from the main campus. It was its own little campus with a few buildings.
The largest building, Swallow, had once been a funeral home.
It was two stories with a full kitchen and two bathrooms. Bedrooms held three to four clients at a time.
A charming white picket fence went all around the building, more so to keep clients from wandering off and to keep people from driving by to drop contraband off.
When she pulled into the small parking lot, she noticed a maintenance truck drive past. She wondered if it was Matty but quickly pushed the thought out of her head.
The handywoman had been drifting in and out of her mind ever since their shared ride.
Afterwards, she felt even more embarrassed at her behavior the first time they spoke.
She stepped outside the car. The porch and small lawn had several clients hanging about, most of them smoking. She didn’t think twice about their stares. It was normal.
A silver car pulled in beside hers, prompting her to smile widely as Clinton, one of the counselors, popped out. “Hey girl, what are you doing up here?”
“I’ve got Leadership. Do I go to Swallow for that?”
He nodded as he shut his door with his hip, as his hands were full with a fast-food bag and a drink. “Yeah, go inside Swallow. All our guys are grouped together for it. If you need anything, just let me know.”
“Will do.” She still found it funny that all the houses were named after birds.
Instead of going through the gate, then through the front door, she decided to go straight down the path to the back door that she knew led into the laundry room.
It was easier to get inside without having to wade through the crowd of men at the front.
The large home was old, with wood flooring and wood-paneled walls.The laundry room led into the kitchen, with high ceilings, an island in the center, and a large window over the sink.
And under that sink was a jean-clad ass with just a hint of a black band of boxer briefs.
She knew that ass. Had caught herself looking at it more than once whenever she got a glimpse of the handywoman.
“Matty?”
The person pulled their upper half from inside the cabinet, a flashlight in hand. Her eyes swept over Reese before a small smile tugged at her lips. “Hey, Reese, what brings you to Swallow?”
“Leadership. I didn’t realize you were here. I didn’t see the truck.”
She shifted into a proper sitting position, clicking off the flashlight. “We only have two trucks. I got dropped off. We take turns using them. Have you done Leadership before?”
“Oh, I didn’t know that. No, this will be my first time.”
“Cool, I’m sure you’ll do great. I have it next week at The Church.”
Reese tilted her head. “You do Leadership?”
“Sure do. Me and the others in maintenance take turns when there’s a gap in the schedule.”
“Well, that’s nice of y’all to share.”
A man with beard stubble and folders walked into the kitchen, where he stood to the side, seemingly waiting for one of them to acknowledge him.
Both turned to him, and he ducked his head in hello.
“Hi, uh, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I wanted to introduce myself.
I’m Freddy. I’m Swallow’s house adviser. ”
Reese held her hand out to shake. “I’m Ms. Reese. I’m a counselor for The Church on the main campus.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m going to get the guys in the main room and then take roll, and then it’s all yours.”
“Thank you; I’ll be right there.”
He left the pair alone.
“Uh, well, I guess I should let you get back to work.”
“Have a good rest of your day, Reese.”
“You too.”
The room was large, with chairs and two couches in a circle. Men were seated everywhere, and apparently, they had saved her a seat in front of the gutted fireplace. It was now an area to house books and magazines.
A variety of looks were aimed in her direction. Curious, amused, bored, agitated, and leery. The typical looks she’d been given over the years when faced with a group of men.
“Hey, guys, my name is Ms. Reese. I’m a counselor for another part of Turtle Grove. Today, for Leadership, I’m going to talk about the effects addiction has on your loved ones. Specifically, those of you with children.”
A man across the room, sitting in a chair by one of the couches, snorted.
She ignored him, instead moving her head to meet the eyes of several other clients.
“Oftentimes, we talk about the effects addiction has on the addict. How addiction has changed their lives, like losing jobs, connections with loved ones, and their health. But what about the children of addicts?”
The snort sounded again, followed by the man going from slouching to leaning his elbows on his knees.
“Is there something wrong?” asked Reese, her voice completely neutral.
“Yeah, there’s something wrong. This is just more bullshit being forced on us.”
“Come on, Seth, just let her do her job,” said Freddy. He was sitting a few people away from the other man.
Reese glanced at the man’s tag pinned to his shirt.
It was red, indicating that it was his first week.
After a week, if the counselor felt like they were adjusting well, then they would move to yellow.
Yellow came with the perks of one phone call home, and they could go to church on Sunday.
There were two local churches to choose from, Catholic and Baptist. It was completely voluntary to go.
Once the client received their green tag, they received two phone calls a week, still had the option of Sunday church but were also given the opportunity to go to at least one outside meeting.
The red tag told Reese a little of what was going on with the man. He was brand new. Obviously struggling with the situation.
“Naw, man, it’s all day. Addiction this, addiction that. Now we’re talking about people who aren’t even addicted. Fuck that.”
“Will you just stop? You’ve been running your damn mouth ever since you got here,” chimed another man. He was older with a graying beard and a demeanor that suggested one did not want to mess with him.
Seth jumped up, prompting Reese to speak loudly as three others bounced to their feet.
Instantly, the hair on the back of her neck stood, but she knew she had to remain calm.
This was not the first time she had encountered a situation of this nature, nor did she entertain the notion that it would be the last.
“Excuse me, if we could all just sit down and start over.”
“Who the hell even are you?” Seth spat, turning back to face her.
She motioned to the others to sit, and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed movement at the threshold into the room. Matty was standing there, rigid and alert. Her eyes were calculating the situation. She’d clearly come to see if Reese needed her.
She didn’t. But it was a touching gesture all the same.
With an even tone, she looked right into Seth’s eyes, letting hers soften. “You sound frustrated. That’s to be expected.”
He winced just the tiniest bit but didn’t say anything.
She continued. “Are you having any withdrawal symptoms? A headache perhaps?”
He frowned but nodded. “I’ve had one since I got here. They only gave me one fucking Tylenol. That’s not going to help.”
“Well, how about this? If you’ll sit down and allow me to give Leadership, then afterwards you and I will go see Clinton and discuss your headache? I don’t want you to be in pain if I can help it. We give each other respect. Deal?”
The fight left him like a gut punch. His shoulders drooped, his face went slack, and the fire that was in his eyes seconds ago extinguished. He just needed to be heard and given some sympathy.
He ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair. “Fine. Yeah, okay.”
“Thank you.” She waited until he sat down before beginning again. “Now, let’s start again. How many of you have children? Raise your hand.”
Well over half of them raised their hands.
She pointed to one with a bald head and a nose that reminded her of Cindy Lou Who in the Jim Carrey version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas. He had a yellow tag that said Tom. “Do you mind telling me how old yours is?”
He blinked a few times while his eyebrows met. It took him a moment to answer. “Uh, one is seventeen and one is, uh, eleven.”
The uncertainty in his voice told her he was just guessing and was most likely not that involved with them.
“I was around your youngest’s age when my mom started her descent.
Well, that’s what I call it. My mom’s fourth husband cheated on her.
I was so pissed. I really thought he wasn’t like the others.
He had made her happy. Or at least that’s what I thought.
As I got older, it became clearer that she was a difficult person in general to be around.
Anyway, the alcohol use skyrocketed around that.
When she wasn’t drunk, she was sleeping or yelling at me.
She had completely stopped working. I didn’t realize at the time what was happening.
I knew we didn’t have money, but I didn’t think very far into it until I started noticing things missing around the house.
Pictures disappearing, leaving just a dust ring on the wall.
The bike my grandpa had gotten me just, poof, was gone while I was at school.
She was selling things to pay bills and buy liquor.
Eventually, she was able to get disability for her bipolar disorder, and that stopped, but money was always nonexistent. ”
“I’ve done that,” a redhead called out from her right. He looked sheepishly at her. “I even sold my son's crib, and he was still using it. That was the last straw, and my ex left me.”
“How does that feel now?”
He dragged his hands over his face. “Damn awful. I’m supposed to be his daddy, you know? I’m supposed to protect him, and I didn’t. I was the one he needed protecting from. I can’t even blame her for keeping me from him. I haven’t seen him in a year.”
That prompted a few more to speak out about who in their lives was hurt by their actions. The conversation began flowing with Reese leading and prompting when needed. Pointing out things that they didn’t see from the outsider's view.
By the end of Group, there were no more looks of doubt. She had proven her competency.