Sorcerer's Luck

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to be able to quit on your own. I know that.”
    â€œYeah, so do I.” He spoke so low that I could barely hear him. “The counselor says
there’s a program. I could go to a group session today. But it costs twenty
bucks.”
    Â I could afford to help him. I’d earned three hundred dollars over the weekend. I was
just so afraid that he’d spend it on pills.
    â€œIf I gave you the money, would you go? Would you really go?”
    â€œWhy lie? Probably not.” He looked up and took a step back.
    Brittany had come up to join us. She considered Roman in a way I can only call clinical.
    â€œYou need to rebuild,” she announced. “Vitamins, B vitamins, just for starters. And C.
Users always need C. Your aura’s a mess.”
    â€œAnother nut like Dad!” Roman said. “What the fuck?”
    Brittany ignored the language and turned to me. “If you gave me the money, and I drove him
to the session, he couldn’t spend it on drugs.”
    I goggled, I’ll admit it. Brittany, have such a practical idea? Cynthia walked up and laid
a hand on my shoulder.
    â€œI’d let her try if I were you,” she murmured.
    Roman took a step back from the three of us. He blushed again from sheer surprise, as if
he’d turned a corner and seen the Fates spinning his thread.
    â€œWhat about it, Ro?” I said. “Will you let Brittany drive you in?”
    He hesitated, then glanced Brittany’s way. What he saw made him stare fascinated
at her. The drugs had such a hold on him that he hadn’t noticed her looks
before. She was slender and beautiful, with long blonde hair and big blue eyes,
currently filled with sympathy.
    â€œLook at those.” Brittany pointed at his right forearm, tattooed with the Marine Corps
logo and a bulldog in a helmet. “Some devil dog you are, if you can’t take a
challenge like this.”
    Roman swallowed heavily and continued staring at her.
    â€œWell?” Brittany set her hands on her hips.
    â€œOkay, yeah,” he said. “Thanks.”
    I handed over the money. Brittany gave me a small, strong smile and a nod of her head,
then slipped her arm through Roman’s and led him off toward the parking lot. In
a condition close to shock, I watched them go. Cynthia laughed under her
breath.
    â€œBrittany loves a rescue project,” she said. “Usually it’s stray dogs, but I think she’s
just branched out. Your brother’s awfully good looking when he’s healthy. She
really does know nutrition, you know. She’s not as stupid as all that occult
stuff makes her sound.”
    â€œOh yeah. I’d never deny it. And don’t think I’m not really grateful. I’m just surprised.”
    â€œAt what? That she thought of it?”
    â€œNo, that he went for it. Oh god, I hope it works. The group therapy, I mean. I hope to
god it helps him.”
    Brittany called me a couple of hours later, while Cynthia and I were having coffee in our
usual cafe. With her pushing him, Roman had gone to the session, which, it
turned out, was actually free, because a well-known local charity ran the
program. He’d been scamming money out of me. No, I reminded myself. It’s not
him. It’s the drugs, maybe heroin, maybe painkillers, everything he takes.
That’s what’s goading him to get money out of me.
    â€œI used the twenty to buy him some good vitamins,” she told me. “And made him promise to
take two a day. I hope that’s okay, and you didn’t need the money back.”
    â€œI didn’t, no. Thanks. I really mean it, thanks so much.”
    â€œAnd he promised to call me every day and tell me if he’s going to the session. I made
him promise not to lie. He just has to tell me yes or no.”
    â€œAnd if he says no?”
    â€œI won’t cook him dinner on Saturday. It’s like a big dog treat, really. When they sit,
they get a treat. They

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