CHAPTER TEN

Eve

May 18, 2019

Warmth spreads like a current of pleasure from my heart to the tips of my fingers and toes. All my pain washes away on soft waves. Nothing can touch me here. I’m floating and drifting, finally free.

FOR TIFF, SATURDAY NIGHTS were always hectic, especially with summer approaching and the evenings growing warm. It brought the users out of the hovels where they congregated to stay warm during the cold months. Those who wanted to take advantage of them became more visible too.

The numbers were always the same; it was the faces that changed. As overdoses took the lives of soul after soul, their places were filled with new people. It was a cycle that destroyed parents and children, families and entire communities. It was an ugliness she couldn’t do anything about, except maybe remind whoever she could that they were loved by God, possibly by family, and absolutely by her.

It wasn’t enough.

Eve had left the emergency shelter.

Tiff’s eyes had been trained on the faces of the women she passed, hoping to spot Eve but dreading it all the same. Maybe she’d contacted someone to help her get out of the grip addiction held on her. More likely, she was out there somewhere.

Pulling into the same parking lot she had the night she met Eve, it was hard to believe two weeks had passed. Before she lost her daughter, Tiff never would have believed her heart capable of loving a stranger with so much stacked against her, and to love her so quickly. But she had. There was something about Eve that reminded Tiff of Lindsay. If Tiff couldn’t make a way for Eve to have a future, she would have a very hard time walking away.

At the back of the building, Tiff motioned to Theresa.

The woman took a quick look around, then came to her car window. “You got any of those protein bars? I’m about starved.”

Tiff took a bagged meal, tossed in an extra bar, and handed it to Theresa. “You haven’t seen Eve around here, have you?”

The bag crunched as she dug through the contents. “Who’s that?”

“The girl from a couple weeks ago. The one I took out of here?”

Theresa scratched at a bite along the side of her arm, then tore open a protein bar. “I’ve seen her. I’d hoped for better but expected exactly what happened. Looks like she’s been beaten to the edge of life.”

Maybe it had been too early to leave the hospital. Tiff’s stomach, sour with the pent-up fear, grew worse. “Can you give me any help finding her?”

“I don’t understand you. She’s a lost cause. Once they get that bad . . .” The lines on her face spoke the words she didn’t. “You got a nice home somewhere. You come down here in that old beater of a car, but I recognize a good life when I see it. Why mess with this? Your girl isn’t out here.”

Tiff reached her hand out the window and did something she rarely did. She made physical contact. At the touch on her arm, Theresa flinched, but within seconds, her muscles softened. “I’m not here looking for Lindsay. I love all of you. It’s hard to explain, but somewhere along the line, God gave me a heart for you—you have a kind of strength I can’t imagine possessing.”

Theresa tugged away. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m nothing. Nobody out here is. Take a look at Eve if you want to see the truth. She’s huddled next to the dumpster in the alley.” Her voice grew gritty. “Get back to your own people.” She turned and walked toward the wall where four other women stood waiting to sell their bodies for another night of survival.

Tiff’s gaze swept the shadows, landing on the darkened entrance to the alley. Her heart screamed to retrieve this young woman who needed another chance as much as Tiff longed to give her one. At the same time, she heard her husband’s voice of warning. “It’s too dangerous in the dark.” Tiff would not be heard if she called for help.

A squad car circled through the parking area, scattering any potential customers for the moment. Tiff could wave the car over and ask the officer to escort her into the alley, but that would only draw a thicker line between her and Theresa, as well as anyone else out there.

Relationships took a long time to form. In that neighborhood, they took an eternity.

She watched the taillights fade, her decision made by her indecision. She was going in. Tiff got out of her car and took three strides forward, her shoulders back. “Lord, please be the strength I need in this moment.” Five more steps, and she would be able to see around the corner, though not into the depths.

A shadow moved, coming closer.

Tiff’s feet grew heavy, sealed to the surface of the earth as if gravity had multiplied itself by eleven. Waves of sound crashed against her eardrums, the pounding of her own blood.

Before she could scream or force her legs to advance or retreat, the figure stumbled into the dim light. Even in the shadows, Tiff could see the bruising still spread across the right side of her face. She moved forward, taking Eve by the arm and guiding her to the passenger side of her car. “What have you done, Eve?”

“I’m fine.” Her words were slurred, her eyes barely open. “Just sleepy.” With a jolt, her head tipped back, a delirious smile on her lax face.

Opening the door, Tiff slid Eve onto the seat and pulled the safety belt across her waist, buckling it tight. The young woman’s head fell forward. She’d taken too much heroin, but she was still responsive. Tiff lifted the latch and reclined the chair back as far as it would go. “Just stay put. I’m going to get you some help.”

“I’m fine, really.” Eve’s eyes fluttered shut again, and she hummed a child’s lullaby.

“What do you think you’re doing with her?” A woman Tiff only knew as Star approached the car.

Tiff shut the passenger side door, hoping Eve would stay zoned out enough not to try and get out. “I’m going to get her some help.”

Star’s hands were fisted into her sides. “What’s so special about that one? You think she’s your girl or something?”

The question knocked Tiff back a step. “No. I’m only trying to help.”

Star tossed her head back. “That’s a good one. I don’t see you throwing any of these other junkies in your carriage for a ride.” She looked over her shoulder. “What do you think, girls? Would this rich lady ever take you for a ride?”

The poison in Star’s glare shook Tiff’s sense of morality. She didn’t know why Eve was different. There were no words to put to the feelings. It was like God was calling Tiff to her. If she didn’t do all she could, she’d never be able to manage the rest of her life. But why not? And why not Theresa? Why not Star? Why not any of the other women and men out here trying to survive under the sentence of poverty and addiction?

She ached to go to them, to explain a situation she had no explanation for, but instead circled her rusty car and slipped in behind the steering wheel.

Before she could make a plan or reconsider what she was doing, Tiff drove away from the parking area and headed toward that same diner she’d taken Eve to the first night. The girl was in no shape to go in, but it felt like safety and was far enough away from where she’d picked her up to give them both a new perspective.

The lights from the restaurant cast a glow that joined the intermittent illumination of the beams in the parking lot. The same waitress poured coffee into the mug of an old man.

Tiff let a held breath retreat in a heavy sigh. “Eve, how are you doing?”

Her eyes were still heavy, but she was able to make eye contact with Tiff for a moment. “I don’t know.” She folded over, her face buried in her too-thin hands. “I need help. I miss my kids.”

Tiff let her own head rest against the cool window. She missed her kids? Then why was she doing this to herself and to them? The rage Tiff had felt at Lindsay when she stole from Tiff’s purse to pay for her habit came to a simmer again. But this time, there was more at stake than money Tiff could spare anyway. Charlotte and Sammy were somewhere in foster care. They hadn’t seen their mother since she left in an ambulance. How could anyone grow up feeling worthy of God’s love when they were left behind so the parent who was supposed to love them could chase a high?

“I need to get my kids back.” Eve’s words were muffled by racking sobs. “They’re mine. No one has the right to take them away from me.”

Turning back to this girl, Tiff was struck by the ridiculousness of her thought process. Maybe it was the heroin speaking, but she couldn’t really think the kids should stay with her under these circumstances. “If you want to get your kids back, I’ll help you, but you’ll have to get clean. They aren’t safe if you’re using. Do you understand?” Her words came out with a firmness she didn’t really feel. It was possible the woman before her couldn’t ever be someone who should have her children back.

“I know. I want to get help. I don’t want to be like this.” She turned toward Tiff, and the light from the diner reflected in her steely blue eyes. There was desperation there. And heartbreak. And love. How could Tiff not do everything in her power to give this woman, this girl, every chance at a happy future?

“If you mean it, then we need to get you into a detox center. Will you go?” Tiff kept her voice firm, but underneath, her mom heart was tearing open again at the weakened healing points. There’d been a time when she’d posed a similar question to Lindsay.

Suddenly, Tiff was there again, in her own kitchen, her daughter in a pile on the floor. Lindsay had looked up, tears streaming down her face, begging Tiff to understand why she needed to go, that she was sick. Back then, Tiff hadn’t really understood that withdrawals also held the potential for death. She’d held Lindsay hostage for three days, never letting her out of her sight. Tiff had thought she could fix her, cure her of the evil she’d let into their lives. All her daughter had to do was agree to rehab.

There was so much Tiff hadn’t known. Probably so much she still didn’t comprehend.

Lindsay had finally given in. She’d agreed to go to the treatment center. But she’d agreed for her mother, or to get away from her. Two days later, she was gone, disappeared after signing herself out. Tiff had raged at the person behind the desk until they’d threatened to call the police . . . on her.

“Eve. This needs to be your decision alone. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Her head bobbed.

“You want to detox.” It sounded more like a statement than a question.

“I’m scared.” She wrapped her arms around her middle, rolling up into a tight ball. “But I need help. I need my kids.”

Tiff turned the key, and the engine started with a sputter. “Then let’s do this. I’ll help you any way I can. I promise you that.”

The transmission ground as she put the car in gear. Wilma Steadman Detox Center was the only facility nearby. Though Tiff had never entered the building, she’d heard it was as good as any that would take those who didn’t have a vault of gold to draw from.

Only a few minutes passed before she parallel parked outside the clinic. She held her tongue, fearing anything she could say would give Eve an excuse to change her mind. But this had to be her choice. That much Tiff had learned.