Mean Season. Heather Cochran
anywhere long-term,” Elise said. “And you can’t go anywhere short-term.”
From the kitchen, I could hear a car door close, then the crunch of tires on the driveway. I could hear Joshua’s footsteps, back and forth across the porch. I went to the refrigerator and got out the pitcher.
He was sitting on the porch, staring out toward the street. I handed him a glass of lemonade and he took it, absentmindedly. He didn’t say anything.
The next day was Thursday. In the evening, Momma got to go out to dinner with Judge Weintraub, Beau Ray got to go to “Life Skills Training” at the Charles Town Community Center and I got to drive Joshua to his first AA meeting. He didn’t talk to me on the way there, and when I asked if he knew where to go and what room it was in, he handed me a piece of paper: Room 220.
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