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“I do blame you, Mom. I made my own choices. I could’ve done better. I can still do better. But I also see how you’ve turned out and I know you need help. I’d never expect Mikey to put out the same energy. Like I said, he’s been through a hell of a lot more. He was the big brother, taking care of me. And you know, the other stuff, too.” He motioned his hand but stopped talking. No one could say it out loud. It was a dark cloud lingering over their heads. A stain on an already tarnished past.
“Well, if that’s how it’s gonna be, I want you both to leave.” Her voice shook, but Michael still felt no empathy with her. He looked at her and still felt strong hatred. It hadn’t faded a bit since he’d been gone.
Standing, he weaved through junk piled up and headed for the door. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, “I was hoping all these years would help you realize what I’ve been through. What Mitch has been through. Maybe you’d see and we could fix our relationship. But I look at you sitting in that chair, skinny and frail, looking sickly, and I know time is quickly running out. I’m changing. I’m not the man I was. I wish I could say you’re not the woman you were, but that’d just be another lie we tell each other.”
“You’re gonna end up back in prison. You never could control yourself. With the drugs, the alcohol, and with pussy. I bet you’re already fucking around with several of those fast-ass girls and they’re gonna get you in trouble. I bet Marilyn is one of them.”
“That’s enough, Mom.” Mitch stood and followed Michael toward the door. “I see it every day. He’s not the same man he was.”
She laughed and slid another cigarette out. “Just like when you were kids. Teaming up against me. Some things never change.” She lit the cigarette. “I’ll be watching the news and anxiously await to see your mug shot right on the screen. Mark my words.”
Michael wanted to respond, but it would do no good. Instead, he exited out onto the sidewalk and felt the cool mist from the overcast sky.
The screen door slammed behind him, and Mitch joined him. “Well, that went about how I expected it to.”
“Let’s get back to town. I need to get to a meeting. I need to see my sponsor.”
Haize waited for him at a front table in the coffee shop. She had already ordered herself a coffee but held off until Michael got there to get his. She wasn’t sure what he liked or even what time he’d get there. All she knew was she got a call from him stating he needed to see her and that he was on his way. He sounded different, more panicked, and she figured something big had happened.
Bracing herself for what she’d say, she channeled what she told her clients. Only this was different. He wasn’t technically one of her clients, and there was something different about him. He was an alcoholic and a drug addict. She had helped many just like him. But something else was going on. He was brooding and quiet, and she found him attractive. She had to shove that aside and ignore it. She was his sponsor. Getting involved in anything past that type of relationship was unethical and wrong. It would only complicate things.
The entrance of the shop swung open, and the overhead bells jingled. Michael stood at the entrance, his baseball cap pulled low, the bill covering his face. But it was him – no doubt about it. His dark hair curled around the brim, his tall stature scooted farther in, and he slid into the booth across from her, keeping his eyes low.
Had he relapsed? Was he hiding his face so she couldn’t tell? Reaching across the table, she pushed the bill up enough to see his eyes. They were clear. He was sober. And then she remembered he said people knew him around here. Maybe being a in public place wouldn’t be a cathartic experience for him, and that’s why he was trying to hide his face.
“Hey, Michael. Are you okay?”
He spread his hands on the surface of the table and eyed her coffee. “I’m…”
The server interrupted him, and he ordered a black coffee, still staring at Haize’s.
“Do you wanna go somewhere more private?”
“No. I just… I just needed to see you. I need you to pull me back down. I need someone who has their shit together sitting across from me, instead of people whose lives are as fucked up as mine, if not worse.”
The server brought his coffee, and he took a long sip before putting it down. Coffee was always good for someone close to a relapse, and she could tell he was right on the verge of making a bad choice. He hadn’t yet, and she was proud of him for it.
If only he knew her past. He wouldn’t be sitting there stating she had her shit together. She wondered how differently he’d view her once she told him about what she’d been through. But that was a detail that didn’t matter at the moment. She was his solid ground, his stability, and she wouldn’t take it away from him if it meant keeping him from using.
“Do you wanna talk about it or just sit here and have our coffee?” She always allowed them to drive the conversation. There was no reason to lead them and make them talk about things they didn’t want to.
He looked around the café. It wasn’t too packed, but enough that he probably felt uncomfortable. He sipped more coffee and sighed. His green eyes were bright, his thick eyebrows arching as he contemplated her question. Something had happened, there was no doubt about it. She had never seen him frantic or agitated, even when his brother nearly drove him to drink.
She admired his lips as they curled around the lip of the mug and forced herself to look away. It was hard to, especially when she took a moment to notice just how handsome he truly was. His face was perfect but rugged… his five o’clock shadow offered a hint of masculinity she couldn’t resist admiring. He didn’t fit the profile. But honestly, drugs and alcohol didn’t pick and choose. Even with his good looks, Michael Brennan had problems. He wasn’t immune to them.
“I saw my mom today.” His voice was low, and she almost didn’t hear him.
She didn’t know a lot about his family, but if his mother was another like his brother, the dynamic was toxic. “Does she live here?”
He shook his head. “Next town over. Twin Village. Mitch went with me.”
Judging by how he was acting, it wasn’t a good visit. “Tell me about her.”
He scoffed and smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “She’s the basis of all my problems. And before you do all the counselor bullshit on me, I know I have to push past that. I can’t keep blaming her for all my poor decisions.” He was still talking low, but they were close enough for Haize to catch every word.
“I wasn’t going to say that, Michael. I was just going to say that you can feel that way. Own the emotions.”
He looked around the room again and then leaned to pull his wallet from his back pocket, sliding a ten-dollar bill next to his mug. “I need to get outta here. I don’t wanna talk about this here. Too many people know me here.”
