Staas nodded as Ira spoke, letting out the breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. He was glad Ira was staying calm, responding with all the genuine tact and diplomacy Staas had come to expect from the guy. But they were also heartfelt, his sentiments, and Staas appreciated that. A though crossed his mind, something he wanted to say, but Ira was asking a question first, so Staas answered that.
"Last I heard she had gotten a job as a cocktail waitress at one of the nicer casinos, and then lost it a little bit later when she failed the drug test. That was almost two years ago now." He retrieved his chocolate and took another bite. "And I only heard that through friends of friends of friends. Look," he added, after setting his chocolate back down, "I don't want you thinking . . ." He cleared his throat and tried again.
"I wasn't, like, a hard-up druggie or anything. Not then. When I was a kid, yeah. I had a pretty serious problem by the time I graduated high school. But I'd gotten clean when I was twenty-one. A friend of mine died because of it all, and I just . . . quit. Cold-turkey. No rehab, no meetings, just cut all ties and started over and kept my nose clean. I lasted eight years without doing anything."
He reached for Lady again, running his thumb over the top of her head until she butted up against his hand, looking for side-chin scratches. He indulged her. "I fucked up when I was twenty-nine. My mom died, and I . . ." He shrugged, his eyes still on Lady. "I fucked up. And that's when Theo happened." He chanced looking up at Ira again, and gave him a small smile. "So even though I regret it, I can't really regret it, you know?"
He took a long sip of his tea, and gave a little grin. "Fuck it. I've come this far, right? So here's the rest: Alida's mom I met at their daycare. We both worked nights, and it was one of the few twenty-four hour daycares in town. She was nice and pretty, and we just started talking when we'd run into each other dropping off and picking up, and sometimes I'd take Alida when Angel had to work overtime. She was a stripper, by the way, which is weird to a lot of people, but whatever. She was trying to make a living for her kid and she wasn't hooking or anything. So. Um . . ." Where was he?
Oh yeah. "So I kind of fell in love with 'Lida first, and her mom and I had a couple hook-ups, just casual and friendly, and when her money problems got worse, I said they could stay with me for a while. I don't know if she started a relationship with me out of gratitude, or to secure their place with me, or if she actually liked me enough for that, but whatever, I thought it was nice, you know? A family." He blew out a little breath. "But I didn't know that the reason she was suddenly having such issues with money was because she was snorting it right up her nose."
He didn't know why it had taken him so long to see that. He of all people should have been aware of the signs, and yet somehow he'd missed them all. "I tried to help her. I did my best. For a long time. But eventually I couldn't anymore. She was gone. It was just too dangerous to have her around the kids. I had to kick her out. I filed for emergency foster-ship of Alida, and Angel was ordered into rehab."
He blew out another breath, and sat back a bit against the armrest, shifting his feet on the seat of the couch. "It didn't last. She got arrested." For prostitution, but he didn't say that. He was a little ashamed for her, for how far she had fallen. "And I went to see her with adoption papers. She agreed." Staas looked toward the corridor, getting up a little to get a better view, to make sure there were no little ears in the hallway.
"She agreed, but for a price." He said as he sat back down and smiled ruefully at his friend. "The sad part is, it wasn't even a lot of money. That's how little Alida even meant to her anymore. But I paid it, easily. Which is something Alida will never ever find out."