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Two months later, Grace sat in the lobby at the rehab facility at which she'd just finished the program, feeling more hopeful and genuinely happy than she ever remembered feeling. She'd had her final inpatient therapy session that morning and had officially been sixty days clean, longer than she'd willingly gone perhaps ever. Technically over the last tour she'd gone longer than that, but she didn't really count it. This was the first time she actually felt good about it, like she'd be able to maintain it.
She sat in the lobby waiting for Jim to come pick her up, sketching mindlessly in the pad in her lap. Art was something she'd taken up as a coping mechanism; at first it had been a suggestion of one of her counselors and she'd thought it was stupid, but as soon as she'd tried it she'd gotten hooked. She wasn't very good, but it didn't matter. She'd filled three sketchbooks over the two months of doodles, full-on drawings, and song lyrics. She didn't plan on ever doing anything with any of it, but it had still become a super useful outlet for her.
"Hey, gorgeous."
Jim's voice was behind her suddenly and she jumped in surprise, having been so wrapped up in her drawing that she hadn't even noticed him approach.
"That's really good," he observed, looking down at the pad. He'd visited three times a week since the second week she'd been there (there were set visiting times and no visitors at all for the first week), but she hadn't shown him much of what she'd been doing. She wanted to, but it had almost felt too personal at the time. Now, though, she felt differently about it. She brandished the pad outward, smiling up at him.
"You think so?" she asked, and he nodded enthusiastically.
"Yeah!"
She shoved the pad into her bag, standing and letting Jim wrap her in his long arms. She cuddled into his chest, closing her eyes and sighing contentedly.
"I fucking missed you," she whispered, and he laughed quietly.
"You saw me three days ago."
"Yeah, and I still missed you. I missed everything about you, Peach. We do have a problem, though," she told him, and he loosened his grip just enough to look down at her.
"What's that? Do you need something?" he asked, and she shook her head.
"No, but you should probably know that your girlfriend is gone," she informed him, and he laughed again.
"She is? Where'd she go?"
"She went to die in junkie hell," she said simply, shrugging. He laughed again, louder this time. People around them turned and looked, but she barely noticed.
"Oh yeah? Okay. Who are you, then?" he asked her, and she shrugged.
"Grace version 2.0. I just hope you can handle me," she told him, laughing with him.
