ran out of the house.
Chapter Thirteen
In the furniture store it was pretty obvious to me what kind of upbringing Rachael had. She was looking at all the run of the mill furniture, basic rod iron bed frames, formica tables and particle wood tables. I watched semi amused for a few minutes, and then suggested to go pick out some furniture together.
"This table would fill in the dining room nice. We should get this." I suggested while pointing out a natural wood table.
The table top was made out of the stump of an oak tree. The legs made from the same natural looking wood, almost looked like drift wood. And the chairs matched with the appearance of picnic benches. "The rough unfinished natural edges would fit very nicely with the beach theme. And the chairs are perfect as well. What do you think?"
Rachael looked rather distant or unfocused on the task but mustered up the energy to speak "Yeah, looks nice."
"What's wrong with you?" I was concerned, she just kind of lost it.
"I am getting sick." She explained with fear in her eyes.
"Well let's go get some medicine then. No problem." I placed my hand on her back and started to usher her back towards the exit.
"Not that kind of sick. I'm getting dope sick." She hung her head in disappointment.
I stared at her with her head down, not really sure what that meant. "Okay, so what do we do?" I inquired.
"Kev, I am a heroin addict. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner but I didn't want you to run scared. If you can't deal with it just take me back to my house."
She was giving me a way out, but I really had no judgement on how bad it really could be I agreed to deal with her vice. I mean after all who doesn't have some sort of addiction. "What do you need Rachael?"
"Just call Pete, tell him it's for me, he'll know what I need. His number is in my phone." She babbled.
I reached into her purse and did what I was instructed to do. When Pete picked up the phone I told him Rachael told me he would know what to do and where we were.
A simple "Okay" was said through the phone and he hung up.
"I don't know, what do we do now? He just said 'Okay'." I was getting flustered, I didn't like confusion and not knowing how to proceed.
"He will come, I just need to lay down, it's going to get worse." She forecasted.
"Okay hold on." I rushed towards a sales associate at the store. "Hey, you see that table over there." Motioning towards the wood table I liked. "I need that table, and a whole house to match. Here's my card." I handed my company credit card over to him. "Whatever it is just charge my account I will be back tomorrow to get my card."
"Sir, that is against company policy." He protested.
"Look it's an emergency and I don't have the time to come back. You get commission what the fuck do you care? Just pick it out, make sure it's nice, and matches the table. Thanks. Here's my card with my name and number. And I'll write the mailing address on the back. I'll expect it tomorrow afternoon. Have a great day."
I ran back to Rachael who was lying in the fetal position on a showroom couch. I picked her up and walked back into the truck. I opened the back of the truck and laid her down on the back seat. I hear incessant coughing and gagging as if she was going to throw up.
"Everything okay back there?" Asking with concern.
"I am fine, is he here yet?" She grumbled.
"No not yet." I responded while looking around the parking lot anxiously.
It gave me a little time to reflect into what I got myself into. Now I am a glorified babysitter waiting for a drug dealer to show up. She's curled up in the back of my truck, sick as shit -- this was not fun. A mysterious looking fellow appeared in my rearview, this has got to be him. He approached my truck and tapped on the window.
Cracking my window just a hair I asked him "Pete?"
He nodded and I rolled the window all the way down. He handed me a rolled up mat that was tied together with velcro straps.
"And here give
Chapter Thirteen
In the furniture store it was pretty obvious to me what kind of upbringing Rachael had. She was looking at all the run of the mill furniture, basic rod iron bed frames, formica tables and particle wood tables. I watched semi amused for a few minutes, and then suggested to go pick out some furniture together.
"This table would fill in the dining room nice. We should get this." I suggested while pointing out a natural wood table.
The table top was made out of the stump of an oak tree. The legs made from the same natural looking wood, almost looked like drift wood. And the chairs matched with the appearance of picnic benches. "The rough unfinished natural edges would fit very nicely with the beach theme. And the chairs are perfect as well. What do you think?"
Rachael looked rather distant or unfocused on the task but mustered up the energy to speak "Yeah, looks nice."
"What's wrong with you?" I was concerned, she just kind of lost it.
"I am getting sick." She explained with fear in her eyes.
"Well let's go get some medicine then. No problem." I placed my hand on her back and started to usher her back towards the exit.
"Not that kind of sick. I'm getting dope sick." She hung her head in disappointment.
I stared at her with her head down, not really sure what that meant. "Okay, so what do we do?" I inquired.
"Kev, I am a heroin addict. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner but I didn't want you to run scared. If you can't deal with it just take me back to my house."
She was giving me a way out, but I really had no judgement on how bad it really could be I agreed to deal with her vice. I mean after all who doesn't have some sort of addiction. "What do you need Rachael?"
"Just call Pete, tell him it's for me, he'll know what I need. His number is in my phone." She babbled.
I reached into her purse and did what I was instructed to do. When Pete picked up the phone I told him Rachael told me he would know what to do and where we were.
A simple "Okay" was said through the phone and he hung up.
"I don't know, what do we do now? He just said 'Okay'." I was getting flustered, I didn't like confusion and not knowing how to proceed.
"He will come, I just need to lay down, it's going to get worse." She forecasted.
"Okay hold on." I rushed towards a sales associate at the store. "Hey, you see that table over there." Motioning towards the wood table I liked. "I need that table, and a whole house to match. Here's my card." I handed my company credit card over to him. "Whatever it is just charge my account I will be back tomorrow to get my card."
"Sir, that is against company policy." He protested.
"Look it's an emergency and I don't have the time to come back. You get commission what the fuck do you care? Just pick it out, make sure it's nice, and matches the table. Thanks. Here's my card with my name and number. And I'll write the mailing address on the back. I'll expect it tomorrow afternoon. Have a great day."
I ran back to Rachael who was lying in the fetal position on a showroom couch. I picked her up and walked back into the truck. I opened the back of the truck and laid her down on the back seat. I hear incessant coughing and gagging as if she was going to throw up.
"Everything okay back there?" Asking with concern.
"I am fine, is he here yet?" She grumbled.
"No not yet." I responded while looking around the parking lot anxiously.
It gave me a little time to reflect into what I got myself into. Now I am a glorified babysitter waiting for a drug dealer to show up. She's curled up in the back of my truck, sick as shit -- this was not fun. A mysterious looking fellow appeared in my rearview, this has got to be him. He approached my truck and tapped on the window.
Cracking my window just a hair I asked him "Pete?"
He nodded and I rolled the window all the way down. He handed me a rolled up mat that was tied together with velcro straps.
"And here give
Similar Books
