No Way Out, Fern Michaels [korean ebook reader TXT] 📗

“Not yet. I wasn’t sure if you were going to fire me, and I didn’t want her to worry.”

“Fire you?” Ellie guffawed. “As if.”

“I didn’t know.” Hector shrugged.

“Well, now you can tell her. And also tell her I said she should be enormously proud of you.” Ellie placed her hand on Hector’s shoulder. There have been studies on how important hugs are, and how they trigger endorphins in the brain. Hugs also release dopamine and serotonin that boost one’s mood and relieve symptoms of depression. She didn’t think hugging Hector was appropriate, but a hand on the shoulder was good enough. Her mood had been elevated. Perhaps it was his company, or perhaps the major breakthrough she had had by inviting him in. Whichever it was, she knew she was on the right track. If only her momentum continued, her life might eventually achieve a normal different from that of the past two years.

Chapter Twenty-nine

It had been a full week since Mitchel had been on a bender. He had limited his drinking to two beers a day rather than two six-packs or a pint of whiskey, or both. He had also started wearing a nicotine patch to help him stop smoking. It occurred to him that heavy drinking and heavy smoking went hand in hand. The less he did of one, the less he would do of the other. Much to his surprise, it wasn’t as hard as he thought it might be, or as hard as he kept telling himself it would be. No more excuses. He knew he had to get himself together if he ever wanted a lasting relationship with his son.

The day they had spent together was a real eye-opener for him. He couldn’t recall the last time he had spent a few sober hours with Jackson, and Saturday felt good. He was still contemplating what had happened with his mother. He knew the change in her mood had helped considerably.

He winced when he thought about the exchange with Lucinda. Seeing her in daylight, and being sober to boot, was a real eye-opener for him. It was as if he were remembering someone else’s life. In retrospect, it was embarrassing to recall their previous relationship. When she had sauntered over to their table, his first impulse was to drink two shots of anything eighty proof or more. But looking at his son’s face, seeing the innocence in it, stopped him from stepping off the straight and narrow. He thought he had handled the situation well. Of course, the look on his mother’s face was another story. If looks could kill, he and Lucinda would both be at the coroner’s office. He gave a wry laugh at that scenario and shuddered. Thinking back to the time of his philandering, he couldn’t blame Colleen for her hostility. He was rarely home, and when he was, he was invariably in a foul mood. He wasn’t sure what the trigger was that had turned him into a worthless drunk, but he had decided that he was not going to be that guy anymore.

He thought about his own father. What little he could remember was that he was a mild-mannered, hardworking man. He would get up at the crack of dawn and tend the fields. Dinner was often the only time he saw his father, but it was usually a pleasant occasion unless his mother had an ax to grind, which happened frequently. Even so, his father would softly address her and remind her, “Not in front of the children.” That, too, could set her off. He thought about it some more. Maybe the problem had been that she didn’t feel appreciated or fulfilled. Having two sons didn’t mean a person had a sense of self-worth. Anyone, well almost anyone, could bear a child. Three hundred million Americans were proof. Then there was the rest of the world. He then realized she was saddled with raising two boys, essentially on her own, as well as trying to keep the farm afloat. He unexpectedly viewed her in a different light. She was, after all, a human being,

He went over to the small set of weights in the corner of the basement and did a few sets. He was determined to continue on his mission to be a better person, for himself and his son.

Mitchel knew there was little hope for reconciliation with Colleen. He had done too much damage. But if he could rehabilitate himself, perhaps they could have a civilized relationship for Jackson’s sake. Mitchel believed that if he could become a decent human being once again, he and Colleen could work together and raise their son. Even if it was in two different households.

Households. That was another hurdle. He needed a job for that to happen. After his talk with Pete at the bowling alley, Mitchel had decided to go to his former boss and plead for his job back. He knew he was an asset to the shop, provided he showed up.

After his workout, he jumped in the shower and began his grooming routine. He looked at himself in the mirror as he was shaving. “Who are you, man?” And then he laughed. He hadn’t had deep thoughts about much in ages. He looked intensely into his own eyes. Nice to see they weren’t bloodshot. Even the bags under his eyes, which were usually there, were starting to subside.

He put on another nicely ironed shirt, compliments of Elaine. He thought she was helping out because she wanted him out of the house. He couldn’t blame her. He had been quite the jerk the first two weeks. Nonetheless, he was grateful. A clean, pressed shirt and a clean pair of jeans would convey a “new Mitch” to anyone who saw him. At least that was his hope.

He took the steps two at a time. When he entered the kitchen, Elaine was standing with a coffeepot in her hand. “My, don’t you look nice.”

“Thanks to you.” Mitchel gave a short