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“Then change. You never change. You never will.”
“I am, I have, I’ve changed—”
“Bullshit. Prove it.” My father glared at me. “I haven’t spoken to your mother about this. I’ll keep it between us. Get to a meeting today. Call your sponsor again. Do whatever it takes. Straighten up and fly right—or we’re done.”
“No, Dad, okay.” I reeled, not knowing what to say.
John added, “TJ, it’s for your own good. We’re both behind you.”
My father headed toward the door. “It’s about damn time you take responsibility for yourself, TJ. That’s all I have to say. Understood?”
“Yes,” I told him as he left the office, closing the door behind him, and I could barely wait to vent my anger at my brother.John, what the hell?I wanted to yell at him, but I’d be overheard. “You told Dad Irelapsed? How could you do that? That’s the worst possible thing—”
“I had to.”
“No, you didn’t!”
“Yes, I did. He came in first thing. It caught me unawares. He said he was up all night. You know how he gets, a dog with a bone.” John spread his arms, his starchy shirt wrinkled at the elbow. “I had no choice, TJ. He wasn’t going to let it go. I had to come up with something.”
“You couldn’t think of another lie? My sobriety, it’s a big thing. It’severything.”
“I didn’t start it, Dad did. He suspected it and asked me if you were drinking again, so I went with it.”
“Still, you don’t get it. There’s nothing more important to me, I changed my life—”
“I get it—”
“No, youdon’t. I’m sober almost two years. It’s a word-of-honor thing.”
John scoffed. “Come on, I’m sure people lie—”
“How dare you,” I interrupted, getting angrier. “Why are you sure? What doyouknow? You never worked the program. You don’t know anything about the program. We don’t lie about it.Idon’t lie about it. The whole point is tostoplying.”
“What was I supposed to do? Wouldn’t it be worse if Dad knew about Lemaire and the money?”
“Why? One is a lie about me, and the other is the truth about you. How can you compare?”
John blinked in annoyance. “TJ, you know you’re sober. What does it matter what Dad thinks? Isn’t all that matters whatyouthink, whatyouknow?”
“Still, it’s a lie. It’s wrong. I’msober. And I want him to know it.”
“He’ll get over it. In a little while, you’ll tell him that you’re sober again and he’ll forget all about it.”
“No, he won’t. And neither will I.” I couldn’t let it go. “You’re an asshole, John.”
“Okay, whatever.” John exhaled. “Let’s move on.”
“I can’t!” I said bitterly.
“Well, try. This Lemaire thing is life or death.”
“You could apologize, you know.”
“I’m sorry,” John shot back.
“Act like you mean it.”
“I do. I’m sorry.”
