Free Shelter by Ashley John Page A

the conversation in that direction. The knife of regret and guilt twisted in his stomach again. The only reason he hadn’t reached straight for his cellphone and called a dealer the second he got out of rehab was because of what Ellie had said about his nephew. That’s how it had started but it snowballed into something else; something Elias didn’t understand. It was as if there was a faint light, flickering in the distance, drawing him towards something he wasn’t sure he wanted. The darkness was still all around, ready to claim him again at any moment. For some reason, he was pulling himself through the darkness like a madman wading through taffy.
    “What do you tell him?” he swallowed the lump rising in his throat.
    “The same thing I’ve always told him. I tell him you’re sick but we hope you’re going to get better soon.”
    The knife sunk deeper. As usual, Ellie was right. He was sick. He had been sick for so many years.
    “I want to see him,” Elias blurted out.
    “Impossible,” shaking her head, she blinked heavily, “not until you prove you’re clean.”
    “I’m trying,” he leaned across the table, “I really am.”
    Ellie finished the last of her coffee and glanced eagerly at her watch. They both knew she had nowhere to be but the hectic lifestyle as one of the town’s only doctors always gave her a backdoor to wiggle out of when the time called for it.
    “For once, I believe you,” she sighed as she pushed her arms into her long, black overcoat, “but it’s not good enough. Prove you’re clean, then we’ll figure something out.”
    Ellie hovered over him and Elias could tell she was trying to figure out what the appropriate farewell was. Whenever she had dragged him out of the gutter or thrown him out of her house, they’d skipped the polite goodbyes.
    “See you around,” Ellie quickly leaned in, her lips lightly touching the top of his hair, “I love you.”
    “You too,” he mumbled as she darted out of the quiet coffee shop.
    Elias sat alone for a moment, looking around at the few people that were also drinking coffee. A couple caught his attention. Not because there was anything extraordinary about them; it was quite the opposite. The man was laughing at something the woman was saying, their eyes locked as their fingers ran up and down each other’s arms. It looked like love. Not that I’d know what that kind of love looked like .
    Deciding he was better off at his apartment, he finished the last of his strong coffee and headed for the door. When he saw his mother on the other side of that door, a frown on her face and a cellphone pressed into her ear, he couldn’t help but think what a cruel twist of fate it was. Why does she have to be here?
    The mayor’s gaze caught his and the frown deepened. Pulling on the door, he stepped to the side, letting her inside. He couldn’t imagine what she was doing in a coffee shop on a Thursday afternoon but he didn’t want to stick around to find out. Hoping that she was too deep in her phone conversation, he stepped around her, itching for the freedom of the outdoors.
    “Just a second,” she called after him, irritation in her voice, “ Brian, I’ll call you back .”
    Tossing her cellphone into the designer bag slung over her cocked arm, she crossed her stiletto topped feet, the tight pencil skirt barely moving an inch. The look on her face said ‘ well, aren’t you going to talk to your mother? ’, but Elias knew he had nothing to say to her that hadn’t already been said.
    “What are you doing here?” he asked, stepping back into the coffee shop and closing the door when a group of teenagers tried to push past him, “Isn’t it beneath the mayor to grab her own coffee?”
    “My assistant has food poisoning,” her dark, well-groomed eyebrows hovered low over her heavily lined, wide hazel eyes, “Why are you here? You’re not looking to score, are you?”
    “In a coffee shop?” he had to laugh, “I just had coffee