A box in the living room with a sketch of a crib caught his eye as he slowly made his way inside. Becks had already run in, needing to use the bathroom. Again. Their motorcade had stopped three times for her on the way back, but a single look from Ghost had staunched any complaints. Plus, it gave the parents with younger children a chance to take them into the bathrooms too.
Which was how a four-hour trip turned into six and a half.
Loretta stayed back with Ranger. She was so short that they’d actually lost her in a gas station convenience store on the way back. Becks had attached a red balloon to their mom’s wrist, much to the woman’s annoyance. She threatened to withhold cookies from Becks too—until Becks pulled the pregnancy card. Which Ranger totally claimed was unfair, because he couldn’t do the same.
Becks had just smiled, flipped him off, and got back in the cage.
“How’re you feeling?” his mom asked as they made their way to his bedroom.
“Exhausted,” Ranger answered honestly. He’d never been a nap taker, but he was craving one now. Especially because he still had his first AA meeting to go to today.
Entering his first-floor bedroom, Ranger looked around. Nothing had changed, like he’d gone on a weekend vacation instead of a three-month stint in rehab.
“Why don’t you put your bags down, and then come to the kitchen?” his mom offered. “I can make you a sandwich. That’ll perk you right up.”
Ranger appreciated the offer—he really did—but his mom’s answer of “food fixes all” was not currently what he needed. “Not right now. My sponsor will be here in about an hour and a half. I think I just need some time to decompress and maybe close my eyes for a bit.”
Loretta bit her lip, worry suddenly on her face. Ranger didn’t know if she knew the details of his relapse, but from the way her eyes flicked to his bathroom, he guessed she did.
Approaching his mom, he cupped her face before kissing her forehead. “I’m good, Ma. I don’t have a heroin dispenser in my bathroom. Ghost would have destroyed what I bought that night, and I’m sure they’ve also gone over my bedroom with afine-tooth comb to ensure I don’t have anything else hidden. I just want to take a nap, Ma.”
She nodded stiffly. “I suppose that’s fine. I really need a list of dos and don’ts.”
Ranger knew she meant well, but he wasn’t a child. He wasn’t incapable or incapacitated, and as much as he loved his mom, the last thing he needed right now was her babying him. But today was not the day for that conversation. Especially not after he’d denied her visitation to the rehab center for three months.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his ninety day chip that he’d received the day before. He lifted her hand between them before putting the chip on her palm and folding her fingers over it. Bending his head, he kissed her knuckles. “I’m good, Ma. I swear. You can leave the door open if that makes you feel better.”
“Don’t be silly,” she scoffed, though he saw her hand tighten over the chip. “I put a baby monitor on your nightstand so I can watch you sleep.”
Startled by this, Ranger quickly looked over his shoulder at his nightstand. Wherenobaby monitor sat. Turning back to his mom, he saw her smiling up at him.
“You kept me away from you for three months. You deserve some payback,” she stated before reaching up to pat his cheek. “Sleep well, baby.”
Chuckling lightly, Ranger closed the door after her. Seeing his cell phone on the charger next to his bedside lamp, Ranger sat on the edge of the bed to remove his boots. All the while, avoiding looking at his bathroom door. He knew eventually he was going to have to go in there, but it didn’t have to be now.
He’d made it home. That was enough for now.
* * *
At exactly six o’clock,Stuart Cross pulled up to the house. The prospect at the gate, Marcus, had already given them the heads up that he was on his way. Ranger had woken up from his hour nap to find a sandwich on his nightstand andhalfof a chocolate crunch peanut butter cookie. Yeah, his mom knew how to hold a grudge while also showering him with unconditional love.
Though they’d spoken on the phone, this was the first time Ranger and Cross were meeting. He lived close to Mount Grove, and sponsored several Mount Grove, Morgantown, and Cottonville residents. Ranger did not remember how Colby said he knew Cross, but did recall that Colby and Cross had known each other for years. Given their proximity and running in the same circle, that wasn’t that surprising.
What did surprise Ranger was Cross’s age. He’d anticipated someone around his age, mid-thirties, but Cross was in his late fifties, maybe early sixties. He had salty hair, a full beard, and a warm smile. If he had a potbelly, Ranger could have equated him to Santa Claus. Instead, the guy looked like he could bench press Ranger without breaking a sweat.
“Ranger?” For such a big guy, he had a soothing voice. Maybe after years of working with addicts, he’d learned to speak in a calming tone.
Ghost held out his hand. “Ghost,” he corrected the assumption. “Ranger’s my brother and enforcer. Come on in.”
Ranger felt like he was meeting a blind date or something. With Becks, Ghost, and his mom present as witnesses to ensure his virtue. He stepped forward as soon as Cross entered the living room. “I’m Ranger. Liam Fremont, but you can call me Ranger.”
Cross took his hand. “Stuart Cross. Good to meet you.”
Ranger appreciated that he didn’t call him “son”. “This is my sister, Becks,” he pointed to the couch, “and my mom, Loretta.”
Cross shook both their hands as they stood. Ghost none-too-subtly slipped his way next to Becks and locked his arm around her waist as Cross reached for her hand. But the man was polite enough that he didn’t comment or do anything ridiculous to challenge Ghost’s obvious claim.
“It’s great to meet all of you,” he said to the three of them. “Your support will mean everything to his recovery. The fact that you’re here, that you haven’t shunned him for his addiction, is no small feat. Do not underestimate your contribution.”
