Page 81 of Caught in Us
I stick by her side through it all. I hold her. Offer words of assurance in an attempt to soothe her pain. But nothing makes this better.
I offer to drive Alicia and her mom home and her brothers agree, promising to come by in a few hours. The ride is uncomfortably silent. Alicia huddles into her seat, her body curling away from mine. She’s despondent, and my worry grows with each passing minute. I can’t tell whether she’s in shock or simply processing her grief. Either way, I feel totally helpless. I wish I could take this from her, carry the load, but all I can offer is to stay. To be witness to her pain. It doesn’t feel enough.
Her mom sits in the back seat, staring out the window. She stopped crying a few minutes ago and now appears almost numb. I don’t know which is worse. Both are heartbreaking.
I pull into the drive and park as close as possible to the front door. After I cut the engine, I hop out and walk around the truck, but Alicia’s already out and helping her mom step down. I rush over to offer a steadying hand.
“Thanks for driving us.” Alicia’s cold tone sparks concern in my gut.
Her mom blinks up at me, almost as if she’s seeing me for the first time. “Who are you again?”
“I’m—”
“He’s an old friend.” Alicia holds her mom’s hand and starts walking toward the door. “We should get you inside. Rest for a while.”
“Don’t be rude, Alicia.” Her mom glances over her shoulder, meeting my gaze. “This nice man drove us home; you should invite him in for a drink.”
Alicia heaves out a sigh. “I don’t drink. And neither does Chase.”
“You never used to be such a drag, Alicia.” Her mom shakes her head and pushes inside the house. She walks with purpose and Alicia follows. I trail behind them both.
“Mom, what are you doing?” Alicia asks.
Her mother pulls a bottle of wine from the refrigerated case under the sink, then reaches for the electric tool to uncork it. “She used to be the life of the party, you know?” She glances across the counter to meet my stare before turning to grab two empty glasses from a cabinet shelf.
Theglug, glug, glugof the wine as it pours into each glass rattles my nerves. I’ve never been much of a wine drinker, but I am a recovering alcoholic. It shocks me that Alicia’s mom would fill these in front of her daughter, knowing the struggle she’s been through.
“Always the center of attention, this one.” Her mom nods to where Alicia stands frozen beside me. “Used to smile more too. She needs a drink more than I do.” Her sharp laughter lacks humor. It’s cruel, and though this woman just lost her husband, I instantly dislike her. “Or maybe your friend here will join me because you’re too good to have a glass of wine with your grieving mother.” She wields her insult like a challenge, sliding over a full glass and holding Alicia’s stare.
“I’m good,” Alicia bites out. “It’s been a long morning. Chase would probably like to go home.”
“I think Chase is old enough to make his own choices—”
“I don’t drink,” I interrupt in an attempt to cool the crackling tension. “Thank you, though.”
“Suit yourself.” Her mom slides the two stems between her fingers, and takes both glasses as she saunters out of the room.
Even after her retreat the air is tense.
I don’t know what to do here. All I know is that I’m not leaving Alicia’s side.
She swallows hard, her eyes on the bottle her mother left behind. “I need to find a meeting. Now.”
“Okay.” I sense the alarm in her tone. I’ve been there many times. Pulling my cell out of my pocket, I find the nearest one. “It starts in an hour.”
“Let me go tell Simon first.” Her chest rises and falls with measured breaths, almost as if she’s trying to control the air in the room. She doesn’t move to leave. “Matty’s napping.”
“Want me to come up with you?” I touch her arm.
“No.” She shakes her head, snapping out of her trance. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
* * *
We gatherin one of the classrooms of a community college near downtown. I’ve caught a few meetings here before, but I don’t recognize any faces as we take our seats in a small circle of chairs.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen Alicia so quiet. It’s not until we’ve gone around the room and introduced ourselves that I understand why.
“I’m Alicia and I’m an alcoholic.” She pauses as the small crowd extends their greetings. “It’s been one thousand, five hundred and fifteen days since my last drink. But today I almost threw it all away. I wanted to. I still want to, and that’s why I’m here.”
