Free Damage by Robin Stevenson

gave a hiccupping kind of sob. “I’m such a goddamn mess, Theo.”
    I had to tell her that Max was on his way. She was going to hate me, but I had to tell her. “You didn’t drive home, did you?”
    She shook her head. “I left the car somewhere. Took a cab home. Cost me twenty bucks.”
    â€œWell, that was a good decision anyway.”
    â€œI’m not a total idiot, you know.”
    â€œI don’t think you’re an idiot at all,” I said. “You’re just unhappy.” I studied her face—her blue eyes, so like Zach’s with their thick fringe of lashes, her straight dark eyebrows, the soft curve of her cheeks. I swallowed hard, and my throat ached with the effort of holding back my own tears. “I...uh...Ronnie, you know I really care about you. I wish I could fix things for you.”
    â€œYou can’t,” she said. “No one can.” She started to cry for real, and I held out my arms. She leaned against me, her head on my shoulder. I rested my chin on the top of her head and stroked her hair. “I’ve messed everything up,” she whispered. “I always do.”
    I had to tell her. It’d be awful if Max just arrived and she didn’t know. “Ronnie,” I said. “Please don’t hate me. But...well, when you didn’t come home, I looked at the messages on your phone. I talked to Max.”
    I felt her whole body go still, as if she had stopped even breathing. Then she let out a long shuddering gasp. “So you know then. You know what I did.”
    â€œI know Max has custody of Zach. Yeah.”
    â€œIs he coming to get him?” She pulled back, looked at me and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “He is, isn’t he?”
    I nodded. “Ronnie, you have to talk to him.”
    â€œHe’ll be furious,” she said. “He’ll hate me.”
    â€œHe doesn’t hate you,” I said. “I could tell. He was upset and worried, but he definitely doesn’t hate you.”
    â€œHe should then,” Ronnie said.
    â€œI hate myself.”
    She was standing right in front of me, but I felt like there was a thick glass wall between us, like nothing I said would reach her. “Don’t say that, Ronnie.”
    â€œIt’s the truth.”
    I hesitated, not wanting to say anything that would make her feel worse. “Look, Joelle told me a bit about your family. It sounds like you’ve had some lousy stuff to deal with. So don’t be so hard on yourself.”
    â€œI used to be so sure I’d never be like them,” she said. “I didn’t drink at all when I was pregnant, you know. Not once. And when Zach was born, I promised him I’d be such a good mother.”
    I wanted to tell her she was a good mother, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. “You love him,” I said instead. “That’s why you did this, right?”
    â€œOf course I love him,” she said. “But that’s not enough, is it? Anyway, that’s not really why I took him. Or not the whole reason anyway.”
    â€œSo why did you do it then?”
    She sighed. “I just thought...I thought if I had him with me, I wouldn’t keep doing this shit. Drinking, I mean. I thought I could do it for him, you know?”
    â€œMaybe you should get some help,” I said. “Go to an AA meeting, or talk to a counselor or something.”
    She folded her arms across her chest, her hands gripping her shoulders so tightly, her knuckles were turning white— like she was literally trying to hold herself together. “I’ll figure it out,” she said.
    â€œYou don’t have to do it on your own, you know.”
    â€œYeah,” she said. “I do.”
    Ultimately, I guessed, that was true. No one could do it for her. Still, she had friends. “Listen, Joelle told me to wake her if you came back.”
    â€œNo, let her sleep. I want