continuation

Cassidy walked in to the sitting room of the center with her vacuum cleaner in tow when she spotted one of the residents, Bill, sitting on the couch flipping through a magazine. “I heard you were back,” she said, smiling. “It’s good to see you.” “I guess you heard about my relapse, huh?” He didn’t spare her a glance as he said, “Once an addict, always an addict, right?” She knew he was suffering from depression and some other form of mental illness he hadn’t disclosed during their group sessions, but she always tried to encourage him to maintain a positive attitude. Phil had done that for her when she showed up on their doorstep begging for help. She felt the least she could do was pay it forward. “You just have to take it one day at a time, Bill,” she said, sitting down on the chair next to him. “Just because you had one set-back, that doesn’t erase weeks of being clean.” “Sure it does,” he said, tossing the magazine on the scarred coffee table.

The furniture was second-hand, donations from members of the community that Goodwill refused to accept. Clasping her hands in front of her, Cassidy asked, “Do you want to talk about what happened?” “What’s the use?” He shrugged. “It’s not like it’ll change anything.” “You don’t have to talk to me, but I hope you’ll let Phil help you.” She knew better than to try and overstep her bounds. She wasn’t a trained therapist, just a friend should any of the residents feel like talking to someone other than Phil. “He can’t help me,” he said, lacing his hands behind his head. “No one can. I’m a lost cause.” He smiled, showing chipped, yellowing teeth. “Hell, my old man’s been tellin’ me that my whole life.” “Just because he said it, doesn’t make it so.” Cassidy still cringed when she thought about some of the messages she’d received growing up. “How the hell do ya manage to stay positive livin’ in this hole?” She shrugged. “It beats the streets.” She knew that’s where she would be without Phil and his wife. She had no skills and had barely graduated high school. The only hope she had of building a decent life for herself was her voice, and since Drake had cast her aside, the odds of that happening seemed slim, at best. Nashville was the mecca of country music. If she couldn’t make it here, she knew she wouldn’t be able to make it. Period. There were days she was tempted to throw her hands in the air and give in to the despair, but today wasn’t one of those days. She’d earned a positive reaction from the crowd at Jimmy’s last night and that always helped get her through at least a few days. “Barely,” he muttered, kicking his scuffed boots up on the wobbly table. “Some days I wonder why the hell I bother gettin’ out of bed at all. It’s not like anyone’s gonna hire an exconvict with a drug problem. I’ve filled out job applications at every dive in this city. Hell, not even those places are willin’ to hire me.” Cassidy knew what that felt like. She wasn’t allowed to disclose the shelter’s address on job applications or resumes because of the privacy issue. With no fixed address, employers weren’t willing to take a chance on her. Not that she had been able to find anything she was qualified to do and still allowed her to continue singing at night. “Have you thought about trying to get into one of those retraining programs that help people find jobs? Maybe you could learn a trade.” “I ain’t got the brains for that.” Cassidy hated to hear people get down on themselves. No matter how bleak things seemed, she refused to believe it couldn’t get better. “You can turn your life around, Bill. It’s never too late to make different choices.” He snorted. “At least when I was high, I didn’t have to sit around all day feelin’ bad ’cause I was such a screw up. I got to escape it all for a while.”

She knew how appealing it could be to escape your problems. She’d spent too many days blissfully unaware of the chaos all around her. “You know that’s only a temporary solution. When you come down, you still have to face your problems.” He grinned. “That’s why I made sure I was never without a fix for long.” Cassidy heaved a sigh as she stood up. She loved living and working at the center because it was so rewarding to see residents embrace their second chance at life, but there were also residents like Bill, who’d already given up hope of a better life. “Hey,” he said. “I heard you’ve got a hell of a voice. What’re you doin’ in a dump like this?” He looked her up and down. “With a face like that and that sweet little body, you should be makin’ records, not hangin’ out here with us losers.” She was used to the men in the center coming on to her, which is why she wished the bedroom where she slept had a lock. Unfortunately, that wasn’t permitted because of the center’s open-door policy. Phil and his wife reserved the right to search the rooms when they suspected residents may be using. “I’m just waiting for my big break,” she said, forcing a smile as she reached for the vacuum cleaner. “We’ve got nothing without hope, right?” Making her way in to the hall with the heavy vacuum in tow, Cassidy nearly ran in to Phil. “Oh, sorry about that.” “No problem,” he said, smiling. He shoved his hands in to the pockets of his pressed chinos. “I was hoping to find you. Do you have a gig tonight?” “I wish.” She was only getting two or three gigs a week. On a good month, she was able to put gas in her car, pay for the insurance, and have a little left over to buy the occasional take-out meal when she was working late. “Do you think you could keep an eye on things around here tonight? Normally, I wouldn’t ask, but Susan and I are celebrating our wedding anniversary and I’d really like to be able to take her out for a nice dinner.” Phil and Susan lived in a nice little apartment above the center with their son, who was away at school, and Cassidy knew they devoted so much of themselves to their residents. She was happy to be able to do something nice for them for a change. “You guys go. Have a great time. I’ve got everything under control here.” “You sure?” he asked, looking uneasy. “I know some of the residents can get a little rowdy at times. Susan wasn’t too sure about leaving you alone with them.” At the moment, most of the residents consisted of men, but Cassidy wasn’t concerned for her safety. Many of the men had been here for several months and she’d forged friendships with them. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll be fine.”

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