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“A tidbit? Hmmm. Okay. I dropped out of college to pursue a hedonistic life and ended up living like a bum in Venice, California. There. That’s more than a tidbit. Think it could be considered a crumb.”
I lay the fork down and use my napkin.
“I want to know everything. How long did it last and what pleasures did you pursue?”
There’s a grin before he pours us another glass of wine. The telling begins.
“Well, the first thing you have to remember is I was young. Okay?”
“Oh this is going to be good. Excuses already. Continue.”
“So there I was in a class I didn’t give a shit about. The professor was moaning because of our general attitude about the subject he was obsessed with. I thought, ‘why should I waste my time on another man’s interests when I could be doing whatIwant all the time’.”
“Oh brother.”
“Exactly. Throw in the ‘you’re only young once’ message I liked giving myself, and I was hooked on the idea. I could get a part-time job, live with a few roommates and surf every day and get high every night. Sounds great, doesn’t it?”
“To an eighteen-year-old, maybe.”
“That was the flaw in my non-plan. I didn’t know what I didn’t know. About life and self-respect. It lasted three years.”
“So what happened to change your mind?”
“Reality. Followed by Jody. I met the girl who would end up being my wife. She saved my ass. Suddenly, I wanted to be a better man. For a woman not interested in being with a boy.”
“She sounds like a good woman.”
“She was.”
“You must not have been heavy into whatever was getting you high. Were you able to stop that easily?”
He moans at the thought.
“It was mostly copious amounts of weed. And an occasional Molly night. Some drunken stupors. And yeah. I stopped when she didn’t indulge.”
I roll over the facts for a few beats and he picks up on the hesitation.
“What? Does my story make you want to run? I probably shouldn’t have mentioned my wife on our first date.”
“No. It’s not that. I’m thinking of my brother. He wasn’t as lucky as you. There was no good woman to turn him. In fact quite the opposite.”
“What are you saying?”
“Akoni is not even a year clean. I haven’t seen him for months. He has been struggling with addiction for years. Heroin. He won’t be going to dinner with you or having a drink. Alek, he isn’t going to want you to see him.”
My eyes get watery with tears that are always there when thinking of my big brother. For memories of a healthy, handsome teenager. And for the image of him now, alone and struggling. A hand reaches out and takes mine.
“I’m sorry, Leilani. I hate hearing that. But he’s clean now, that’s the headline.”
I look into his hopeful expression. “This is the fifth try.”
I haven’t talked about Akoni to anyone other than Paula for so long. Or admitted that sometimes I doubt he will ever change. It requires a good heart to listen to the story and not make the wrong conclusion about such a good man. Somehow, I needed to tell it tonight.
“Fifth, fifteenth, it’s only important he still wants to try. There are plenty of people who needed multiple attempts before being successful. I’ve known a few. Don’t lose hope.”
He wipes the tear streaming down my face then cups my chin.
“It’s going to be alright, sunshine.”
