Work Text:
When Shirley had offered him a place to stay at her guest house, Luke didn’t quite believe her. The first time he’d met her kids was at Nellie’s funeral, seeing as she wouldn’t let him meet them while he was on drugs, and he couldn’t imagine her allowing him to live anywhere close to them. But on the day he was released from the hospital, he was shocked to find her car pulled up outside, and even more surprised when she’d assisted the medical staff in helping him out of his wheelchair and into her passenger seat. She’d hopped into the driver’s seat, sticking her key in the ignition, and after she’d pulled out of her parking space, they’d started the short drive to her house.
What meagre belongings he owned were in a singular cardboard box in the back seat, including a new cell phone, brought up to his hospital room that morning by a nurse who said it was for him. The hospital hadn’t said who sent it, but Luke guessed it was likely either Steve or Theo, them being the ones who could easily afford that kind of generous gift, although the sender still could’ve been Shirley. There was his notepad and his pillow inside, alongside a threadbare blanket, his black suit and tie, and the shirt and pants he’d nearly died in, newly washed. His wallet was inside, alongside his four sobriety chips, a driver’s license, and some old polaroids of him and his family. Luke was wearing a blue sweater and jeans that Theo had bought while they were waiting for him to wake up, its soft knitted fabric gentle as it rubbed against his skin. Besides that, he had nothing to his name, although that was his fault for selling everything he owned in order to feed his addiction.
“So, any girlfriends I should know about?” Shirley asked to break the silence of the vehicle, and Luke laughed, shaking his head. He fleetingly thought about Joey, but he’d never thought of her in any way that wasn’t platonic, and even if he had, that ship had sailed when she stole Steve’s cash and left him by the entrance to the alley alone. Even if he had the opportunity to see her again, he wouldn’t ever trust her again, period. “Because I want to know if I should expect anyone’s cars pulling up to my driveway, like with Theo.”
“You won’t have to worry about that,” Luke promised her awkwardly, and she laughed, reaching over to pat his leg. When they hit fifty, he was glad that the windows were rolled down, and he breathed in the fresh, crisp air as it tussled his hair and made his eyes almost too dry. It was freeing, the way it felt to have the cold wind hitting his face. Her ring glinted on her finger when he was certain that she hadn’t been wearing it before, having been too angry at her husband before, but it made him feel good that she was wearing it again. “I’m excited to meet Jayden and Allison,” he said, and she nodded.
“When I told them that you’d be coming to live with us, they were pretty excited,” she said, and it made something in his chest twist painfully. He’d been absent in their lives and the lives of everyone else, having missed three whole weddings due to being high, drunk, or otherwise indisposed, alongside the births of his niece and nephew and the funeral for Nellie’s husband. While he’d missed a lot, with his fresh new lease on life, he’d be able to avoid missing any more. “I’ve already told them that you aren’t feeling well,” she continued, “so don’t feel too bad if you want to sleep, or spend some time alone.”
He didn’t think he could spend any more time alone, but sleep sounded appealing. There was a pounding ache in his head, and with his limbs feeling like lead and his chest burning, it sounded like it was just what he needed to feel better in the place of narcotics. “I appreciate that,” he said, because he really did like that she was thinking of him.
“Of course!” Shirley chirped, making a left turn down a path laden with greenery and large oak trees.
His older sister lived in a nice upper-class neighborhood, and while half of her residence was a funeral home, she still had a huge house. As they pulled up the driveway, he took the property in, exiting the car and stuffing his hands into his pockets. He’d been there for the funeral, but it was different, seeing the residential side of the building. Shirley insisted on grabbing his box, even though it was lightweight and he wasn’t an invalid, but he appreciated it anyways. She guided him to the guest house, and when she grabbed the keys, unlocked it, and opened the door, he was met with an empty living room. There was a door to what he assumed was a bedroom, and an archway that exposed a well-furnished kitchen. He was happy that the guest house had appliances, although he would’ve been grateful to simply have a roof over his head, as opposed to sleeping in the elements, as he was often forced to do before.
“Home sweet home,” she said, setting his box down on the ground. Combing her fingers through her hair, she glanced around almost anxiously. “I’m sorry that the only furniture here is a bed and the stuff in the kitchen,” she said, “but maybe I’ll take you furniture
“That’s unnecessary,” he tried to say, but she shook her head.
“Now that you’re sober, you get both an inheritance and royalties from Steve’s book,” she explained, “so you can use that, if you won’t accept my money. But I’m still taking you out shopping regardless.”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. She was doing too much for him, and while he was grateful, it made him feel like a real piece of shit. “Listen,” he said, “I hope you know, um, that a junkie like me really appreciates—“
“Hey,” Shirley interrupted with a frown, “don’t call yourself a junkie.” She reached out and grabbed his hand, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles tenderly. Her eyes were hard, but he reminded himself that the anger in them wasn’t necessarily directed at him. “You’re my brother,” she said, “and you were an addict, but you’ve never been just a- a ‘junkie’ to me.” Lips twitching, she smiled fleetingly, and when she reached up and replaced the fingers on the back of his neck with hers, she tugged him down and pressed a kiss against his forehead before releasing him. He missed the warmth of her hands on his skin, but let her fold her arms across her chest without fighting to maintain contact. “I’m really proud of you,” she said, expression serious, “and I’d fight anybody that calls you that.”
Luke sheepishly looked down at his feet, his already blurry vision turning fuzzy as he teared up. “Thanks, Shirley,” he croaked, voice breaking. His older sister just reached up and rubbed his shoulder softly. “Really,” Luke pressed, grabbing her hand, “thank you for everything. All the, the rehab centers you paid for and hospital bills and, uh, just believing in me, y’know?”
“Well,” she sighed, “it stuck in the end, didn’t it?”
“Yeah,” he said, “it, uh, it did.”
She smiled again, and this time, her lips peeled back to show her teeth, dimples forming in the corners of her mouth. Luke hadn’t seen her smile like that since they were teenagers. “Then it was worth it.” Shirley hugged him, arms coming around his waist so that her palms were flat on his back, and after a moment, he embraced her back. Releasing him, she backed up to the doorway, standing in the entryway. “Remember to take your meds,” she said, “and come see me or Kevin if you need anything at all. Dinner’s at seven, and we’re expecting you to be there!”
She left, and he was alone in the guest house, left with just his cardboard box and the empty guest house. With a sigh, he stretched and smiled, knowing that he finally had somewhere to call home. He looked forwards to dinner.