Mel waited for Cheryl to look back at her. Then she said, “No. It’s not.” She took a breath. “Come on, let’s get going.”
They didn’t talk much on the long drive to Eureka, but Mel did learn that Cheryl had been at a cousin’s house in some other mountain town for the past year until her father brought her home. And Cheryl had had some delusional and grandiose aspirations—she’d wanted to join the Peace Corps, travel to foreign lands, be a nurse, a teacher, a veterinarian. Instead, she drank her dreams away. She didn’t have any friends in Virgin River anymore, just her mother and father.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t feel like talking about,” Mel began, “but I’m curious. I know you don’t go to Jack’s. How did you manage to get liquor?”
“Hmm,” Cheryl started. “There’s a liquor store in Garberville, but usually my dad would get me something to keep me from driving his truck.”
“Ah. I understand,” Mel said.
“I try to stop all the time,” Cheryl said. “But if I get shaky and crazy, my dad takes care of it. Just enough to get me straight.”
So Dad was the enabler, Mel thought.
The aftercare was going to be a huge problem, Mel realized. Because Cheryl had nowhere to go but back home to her parents, who seemed unable to support her in getting healthy. That would have to be her sponsor’s challenge—maybe they would find a place for her in Eureka where she could work, live, go to meetings, get a grip on sobriety before landing back in Virgin River, doomed.
It was late afternoon by the time Mel got back to town. She went into the clinic to give Doc his keys.
“Mission accomplished?” he asked.
“All taken care of.”
“Your husband’s been looking for you.”
“Swell. What did you tell him?”
“That you were on a mission. A medical mission.”
“I bet that thrilled him. I guess I’ll go tap-dance around Jack and grab the kids from Brie. I’m going to call it a day, Doc.”
“I’ll phone you if anything exciting pops up.” She turned to leave and he called her back. She turned to him. “That was a good thing you did. I don’t like her chances, but that was a real good thing.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
“All my years here, all my years watching her go downhill, I never gave her that much hope. Glad someone did. Glad you did.”
She felt a small smile come to her lips.
Over the course of the previous three days, Luke had taken Sean over to the Booth house for a couple of morning rides. He hadn’t done it for Sean, certainly. But for Shelby, because it made her happy to have someone with whom to share the rides. And although it irked Luke, she found Sean amusing.
The rest of the time Luke and his brother worked together. They finished the floors in the house, then concentrated on cabin number one for Luke’s new tenant.
“We should have this ready for you in a couple of days, Art,” Luke told him. That put Art in a fever of excitement, that he was going to have his own little house. “Ever had your own house before?” Luke asked him.
“By myself?” Art asked. “Not by myself.”
“Think you’re ready for your own little house?”
“I am,” he said with a nod.
“So let me ask you, Art—at the group home, who did the laundry?”
He shrugged and said, “We had to sign up for it.”
Luke was perplexed. “Sign up? I don’t get it.”
“On the clipboard,” Art said impatiently. “You have to sign up on the clipboard when you want to use the washer and dryer.”
“No kidding? So you did your own?”
“We did our own.”
“And did you have other chores at the group home?” Sean asked him.
“Make the bed, put away the clothes, keep a neat room. Dishes. Vacuum. Bathroom cleaning.”
Luke lifted a brow. “I think you are ready for your own house. With some OJT on the washer…”
Art frowned. “OJT?”
Sean slapped him on the back. “On-the-job training, buddy. Come with me. I’m going to show you how to scrape the dead paint off the outside of this cabin so we can prime it.”
“OJT?” he asked.
“Exactly.”
When Art was settled into his chore outside, Sean went inside and asked Luke, “What are you going to do with him?”
“He just got here, Sean. He just needs to feel safe right now.”