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And they were proud of him.
There was, however, no sign of Dora.
When the meeting had ended, he approached the counselor, bag in one hand and a half-devoured strawberry glazed donut in the other. He hadn’t been eating any of that crap since he’d been here but figured one little treat wouldn’t kill him. “Eh, DeAndre? Where’s Dor? I didn’t see her and I have somethin’ for her.”
The face DeAndre made instantly caused Hayes’s heart to sink into his stomach.
“Signed herself out last night AMA, man. I’m sorry.”
“What the fuck do you mean? She’s…she’s gone? She just left?”
DeAndre nodded.
“How the fuck can you let her do that?” he yelled. “I don’t…she was…”
“This isn’t a prison, Hayes. Everyone is here on their own free will, and that includes the ability to leave whenever they want.”
Hayes knew she was so close, as she’d always let him know the countdown to her 60-day mark. Last they’d spoken, she was on day 44. “Nah, fuck that,” he mumbled, flopping onto a nearby chair, dropping the bag and the donut, and letting his head fall into his hands.
DeAndre sat down next to him and put an arm around his shoulder. “It happens a lot, Hayes. More people leave than actually complete treatment, unfortunately. The fact that you made it, that you’re doing this? It’s awesome, man. You’re well on your way.”
Hayes wiped his eyes, nodding.
“What did you wanna give her?” DeAndre asked, patting Hayes on the shoulder a few times and removing his arm. “I can put it aside and if she happens to come back, I’ll make sure she gets it. They…sometimes they do come back, Hayes.”
He reached onto the floor and picked up the bag, handing it over to DeAndre. “It’s…if she comes back, you have to make sure she gets this, OK? I’m not fuckin’ around. It’s real important.”
“Of course. I’ll make sure I give it to Alan. He has a whole locker full of this stuff in the back. And Hayes? Look at me,” DeAndre instructed, and Hayes obliged. “Getting sober? That’s the easy part. Staying sober? That’s the challenge. When you leave here, you have to make sure you take it seriously, and you have to make sure you utilize the skills you’ve learned in every single aspect of your life. There are things that are gonna trigger you to want to use that you would have never imagined would. Don’t let your guard down for a second and don’t stop fighting. This is a marathon, not a sprint. You feel me?”
“Yeah, I feel you,” he said softly, patting DeAndre on the leg. “Thanks, man. I just…I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
DeAndre sighed. “Fuckin’ way she goes.”
???
Ryan had arrived at the Brandon Ice Sports Forum for his birthday practice around 3:30 p.m., signing a few quick autographs on his way inside. Since the practices were free and open to the public, this wasn’t something out of the ordinary. And Ryan had made a promise to his dad to never get too big for his britches, so to speak.
“Don’t ever forget where you came from, Ryan,” his dad had warned him. “There are gonna be kids who look up to you like you’re their hero. Don’t let them down. Humility is a virtue in this game.”
That’d always stuck with him, especially since his father’s passing. Ryan Baylor always strived to be that guy who would stand around and sign autographs until there was no one left who wanted them.
And he usually was, but right now, he was really late.
“Hey, listen. I’m running late, OK? I’m not trying to dip out on you,” he told a group of fans, making eye contact with an especially bummed pre-teen kid. “After practice? Give me about a half-hour and I’ll meet you right back here, sign whatever you want and chat for a bit. I promise. Deal?”
“Yeah, right,” the kid muttered, turning away. “He sucks anyway,” Ryan heard him say to his dad.
“Hey!” Ryan yelled, turning back toward him while he made his way toward the locker room. “That’s not very nice, especially since it’s my birthday. I promise you. And I’ll bring some friends, so you better be here when I get done!”
It’d been one hell of a day so far.
He’d agreed to watch JT for a bit so Amara could run out to the store by herself and pick up a few things, and when Jake had stopped home for lunch, they had gotten into it.
Ryan hadn’t meant to overstep, but that’s exactly how Jake had taken it when he’d approached him about Amara’s declining mental health. When Ryan had found her crying on the kitchen floor a few weeks ago, he’d waited, thinking maybe she’d just had a really rough day.
And things had been OK since then.
However, when he found her outside crying in her car yesterday, having left JT alone and screaming in the house, and he’d had to carry her back inside, he knew he needed to do something.
