“Another question.” Max starts as Dane and myself look at him awaiting for him to finish.
“Why was I naked when I woke up that night?”
11
Max
The first few weeks of rehab was hard. I felt like I was a teenager and was at camp, a fancy camp where you talked about your feelings and the demons that chased you or caused you to drink that overlooked the Pacific Ocean, but still a camp. I struggled for the first few days pretty bad, I went through the shakes and pretty much cried like a baby to sleep. I’m nearly 4 weeks in and 2 days left to go and I’m feeling more solid than I did before. I haven’t had any contact with anyone since the morning that Davis dropped me off. Rather than take only two weeks, I signed up for 4 weeks to make sure that I continued my sobriety. It’s been said that if you do something for 21+ days in a row, it becomes a habit, so I’m giving it a full month for the extra push. My desire to drink isn’t as strong as it was before, but I can sense a small piece of it lingering somewhere within me.
I realize that sobriety would be an on-going thing, but I wanted to create that pattern before I attempted reality.
I want my friends and family to see that I can be strong enough, even though parts of me feel like they’ve already crumbled. I’m granted phone calls, but I’ve refused to make any or take any. I need this time to be able to fix myself. To be truthful, while I know that this was probably the best thing for me, I’m a little angry with Davis for setting this up prior to even talking to me, which is ironic because I was on a week-long drinking binge.
I’ve meditated and talked in groups about everything that has plagued my life within the past year and half. While I’ve struggled immensely with the loss of Betsy, I’ve managed to look at losing her and falling from my own grace as a lesson in life to learn from experiences rather than have experiences control who you are.
While I’m surrounded by other recovering addicts, I haven’t tried to befriend any of the other people living in this Cliffside oasis except for a guy named Leo, who is a few years older than I am.
He and I share a loss of a loved one, his sister and from that we’ve drawn strength from one another. He’s doing a 6 month stint in this place and this would be his final month. Meaning, we’ll both be setting off into the unknown at around the same time. His fiancé dropped him off here at rehab at his request in order to continue with their relationship and plans of marriage.
“Are you nervous at all about being outside this place?” Leo asks as we are sitting poolside on our lounge chairs.
“Yes and no. If we’re being honest. I’m afraid that I will get home and have the urge to walk down to one of the bars, or that I’ll have a flashback of Betsy doing something small and that will drive me to drink like it usually did.”
“The flashbacks? Were they bad?” He asks.
“They weren’t bad, but they were a reminder that she wasn’t there anymore.” I admitted. Sometimes though, I would avoid them by drinking.
We sat in silence for a bit before either of us spoke again. When we did, it was Leo again.
“I’m afraid that I’ll find one of my hidden stashes. I kept them all around my house, inside and out. My fiancé, Judy is always good at finding things, so I’m hoping that she combs the house by the time Friday comes, just in case.” He says.
“Did you tell her where they all were?”
“That’s the problem, I don’t know where they all are. I was really good hiding things when I was drinking, that’s why rehab was the final straw. I would say I was sober, kicked it cold turkey, then I would come across a bottle I had hidden and the next thing I knew I was shit-faced. Judy wasn’t a fan, so instead of my way of quitting, she gave me the ultimatum.”
“Do you think that you guys will be different, like your relationship?”
“I hope not. I’m scared of that to be honest. Maybe she won’t think I’m fun anymore, or that she will no longer love me.”
Again we were silent, our conversations usually weren’t so solemn but we’re both scared shitless that we’ll rebound back.
“When we get out of here, we should do meetings together.” I smile.
“I think that would be a good idea. I got your back dude.” Leo smiles.
“And I yours.”
* * *
I wasn’t expecting Sterling to be standing beside her car waiting for me when I emerged from rehab, but I couldn’t have been happier. When she saw me walking down the steps, she had the same smile that she had on her wedding day, plastered on her face. She is genuinely glad to see me and for that I know rehab was a good choice. She pushed off the side of the car and met me halfway and pulled me into a hug. I don’t know how long we stood like that for, but it made all my potential reservations of coming back to the real world so much better.
“I hope you don’t mind that I picked you up.” Sterling stated opening the trunk of her car.
I placed my bag in the trunk and turned to her.
“I think it’s the most fitting. Before we go to my house, do you mind grabbing a quick bite?” I ask. I wanted to talk to her, to apologize, to just listen to her and let her talk to me. Something that while I was in rehab I came to the conclusion that I should have been doing all along.
“Sure, I’ll have to let the guys know. They wanted to order in and celebrate you being home.” She smiles pulling out her phone. She quickly texts something and then pockets the phone and looks up at me and crooks her head to our respective sides to get in.
We stopped off at a dingy diner that had a sign in the window stating they had the best fries in the world.
Of course, I had ordered the fries with my burger and a strawberry milkshake as she ordered a piece of pie and water. We sat quietly for a minute, neither of us knowing how to start.
I then cleared my throat and dove right in.
“I did a lot of talking during rehab. A lot of things that I had never said out loud and a lot of those things should have been things that I had said or talked to you about.” I started.
Sterling nodded, and I saw her prepare herself.
“Betsy meant everything to me. And she meant everything to me, because of you. You were the factor that brought us together, and I failed as a friend to acknowledge that you were hurting just as much as I was. Instead I was a selfish prick who thought that I was the only one who lost her. And for that, I’m incredibly sorry. I can’t take that back, nor can I take my behavior back, but I’m sorry. I’ve never lost someone like that to me before, and while I know there’s no certain way that everyone reacts, I know that I reacted like a shit friend.” I breathed out.
“I didn’t know how to properly cope. It started off with mindless sex, if you can recall. And then I added drinking to the mix. When I drank, I forgot the circumstances of why I was so upset and depressed and I could manage. I wasn’t actually managing, but pushing people away, using them and flat out being a dick. It was wrong of me to want to forget, but I didn’t know any other way.”
I had been fiddling with the straw wrapper from my milkshake and I look up into her glassy eyes. She wipes the corner of her eye and stands up. She sits down next to me.
“Max.” She starts as she grabs my hands. I turn my body towards her. “Everyone has different ways of dealing with pain and loss. No one way is the same. I know where I stand in your life, I’ve never doubted that and I never will. I didn’t want to pick you up though for you to apologize to me, you don’t owe me any. What you do owe me, and everyone else, is you. A healthy you, the you who we all know and love. Things will be different, we all have great memories of Betsy, but we cannot live in the past. Betsy wouldn’t want that of us.” Her hand is steady in mine.
I nod my head. “I want to be a better person. That’s why I didn’t throw a fit when the guys threw rehab on the table. I did however turn one weakness in for another. Strawberry milkshakes are the devil. When I have even the slightest twinge of wanting a drink or think that I will be faced with somethin
g that could throw me back into drinking these babies are my lifesaver.” I smile grabbing my shake.
Sterling laughs and gives my hand one more squeeze before going back to her side of the table.
We finished off our food, the fries were definitely not the best in the world and then we headed back to my house. I wasn’t worried with what would face me upon returning, I was just happy to be home.
We walked inside and everyone from work was present as well as my friends. Davis and his girlfriend stood in the kitchen talking excitedly and Sterling and Dane sat at the dining room table talking with Talia from work and her boyfriend. Lukas stood in the hallway by my bedroom on his phone, looking irritated. I looked around my small house and smiled, these people cared enough to celebrate me coming home from rehab, who does that?
* * *
I return to work the following day and I played catch up. I never left my office in shame of showing my face to our staff. I needed a few more days to settle back into work before facing them again. Many of them were at my return from rehab party, but here at work I have to show my game face and be more professional.
I spent the whole week returning emails, scouring the vendor classifieds and talking to some colleagues about potential projects that we can bid on. Since I had really nothing to look forward to at home, I worked late. I would get home well after 10pm and then straight to bed. I needed this work ethic to get myself back on track. In between my strawberry milkshakes and the long hours at work, I think I can do this. No, I know I can.
I made note of the when and where local AA meetings took place. I texted briefly with Leo and we set up a few meetings for this coming week.
I don’t want to fail at this sobriety thing.
12
Davis
While my brother was in rehab, the house was quiet. Katrina stayed over on a few occasions, I spent a lot of nights surrounded by planning syllabuses and lesson planning for the start of the school year and planning a spaced out theme for my classroom. I even hosted a BBQ in which I invited not only my friends from work, but Dane, Sterling and Lukas as well. With Max being gone, the three of us had gotten closer and I no longer just saw them as my brother’s friends. They never treated me like the little brother, always as a separate person from Max and I figured it was time to make more friends.
Max came home a month after I dropped him off at the rehab facility on the cliffs. He looked different, much more clear headed and his eyes weren’t as lifeless. He’s been home a week now, and whenever I see him, he’s come home with a milkshake or made one in the kitchen, which I find comforting. He’s attended a few meetings with a friend he met while in rehab and even found himself a sponsor. He hasn’t searched the cupboards for any booze, hasn’t brought home scores upon scores of women, he hasn’t disappeared at night or looked hung-over in the mornings. In fact, we now saw each other every morning before we went off to work.
I’m standing in the kitchen flipping a pancake when Max shuffles into the kitchen. His hair is standing up in all directions and he’s got pillow creases on the side of his face. He grunts as he brushes past me and reaches into the fridge to pull out the orange juice.
“Why are you always so chipper in the morning?” He mumbles, his eyes only half open as he looks at me.
“Morning person.” I smile, plating the pancake. “Breakfast?” I offer him, since I have some more batter.
“Sure.” He grunts as he leans back on the counter drinking from the carton.
“I’m chaperoning a school dance tonight. I need your help to look cool” I hope that I don’t sound like a dork.
“Isn’t it still summertime? Why is there a dance, if school hasn’t started yet?”
“It’s a thing this school does for the student’s entering into 5th grade. Apparently it’s a huge jump from 4th to 5th; it’s the oldest class of the school, so I think the administrators like to welcome the kids into it, or something. I don’t know. I signed up, are you going to help me or what?”
“I feel like this is high school. You want me to pick out your outfit for the dance?” He smiles looking more awake.
I do sound like a dork. I’m asking my big brother to dress me. So instead of commenting, I shrug.
He smiles again and then nods his head. “Sure buddy. Is Kit-Kat going with you?” He’s taken to giving everyone nicknames recently. Katrina doesn’t know yet, that’s what he calls her.
“Nope. She’s busy, plus really, who wants to go to a 5th grade dance when you’re an adult.”
“You do.” He jokes.
“Hey, it’s my teacherly duty to do these things, plus I was forced to do it by Tatum and Sammie.”
Shit!
I had forgotten that my brother doesn’t know that I am aware of his hook up with Tatum. Hopefully, he doesn’t recognize the name.
Max looks off into the distance with a contemplative look on his face.
Max shakes his head and turns his attention back to me.
“Whatever you say little brother.” He grins. “Do you need the clothes now or after school?”
“I can wear something from my closet; I just need your guidance with what, but later this afternoon. I have to be at the school tonight at 7.” I am embarrassed that he’s helping me out like this, but also grateful that he is here to help me out. This is a moment that we wouldn’t be sharing if he didn’t go to rehab.
“Sure, no big thing. I have an early day anyways and my Friday nights seem to be wide open lately.” He jokes.
I try to not flinch at his comment, and hope he sees no change in my demeanor, his Friday nights are open because he doesn’t go out to the bars anymore, he’s been staying home a lot since he’s been out of rehab. He did mention plans with some guy he met while in rehab, which I hope is a good thing.
* * *
My phone rings and while I typically don’t answer my phone while at the gym, I do since I notice it’s Sammie who is calling.
“You’re still coming tonight, right?” She asks me.
“Yup, it wouldn’t be right to back out last minute.”
“Do you want to caravan together?”
“Nah, I can meet you guys there.”
“Oh C’mon, let’s save the planet and gas or something like that.” She’s pleading.
“You just want to catch me running around in my boxers.” I joke.
“Nah, you’re taken goods.”
“You’ve seen the house, what more do you want to see?” Please don’t say Max, Please don’t say Max.
“I’m curious if your brother would recognize Tatum, you know if we showed up knocking on your door asking for you to come out and play.” She pretends to sound innocent.
“Let’s not and say you did.” Please drop it.
“C’mon. Please? Pretty, pretty please, with a cherry on top?”
“Begging doesn’t sound good on you.” I deadpan.
“That’s not what the guy last weekend said.” She retorts back. Touché.
“Fine. But you guys don’t poke the sleeping bear. Nothing obvious, just smile and no lingering.”
“Pfft! You’re no fun!” She whines like a child.
“Is Tatum aware of your grand plan?”
“No, she’ll find out though soon. I’ll play it off like he’s not home.”
“You realize, this is my brother you’re talking about, right?”
“Of course, your super hot brother.” She gushes. I roll my eyes.
“Whatever, 6:30, I don’t know why I even agree to these things with you.”
“You got it stud, oh and it would be fun if you answered in polka-dot boxers. You know wrap the whole story around.” She laughs and cuts the call abruptly.
* * *
“Seriously, this?” I ask looking into the full-length mirror on Max’s closet door.
Max pulls out several button-down shirts from the closet. He has at least ten of them thrown across his bed. I have a paisley shirt on currently, with maroons, grays and blacks
. It’s between this shirt, which Max likes and a pin striped shirt that I would prefer.
“This shirt is more of an attention getter, the striped one is classic and boring.” He states sitting in his chair in the corner of the room.
“You realize I have a girlfriend, and this is for a school dance, in which I am a chaperone at, right?” I ask.
“Yeah totally, but I remember making fun of the chaperones when I was at school dances.”
“Why on earth would you wear a paisley shirt, isn’t that like wearing wall paper or a sofa?” I mock.
“That’s why the colors are more masculine buddy. A chick likes more the metro thing nowadays anyways. Besides, at one point you thought this shirt was cool, I mean it’s still in your closet.”
“Again, I have a girlfriend.”
“I know, I know. Why do I feel like a teenage girl gossiping with you about clothes?” I look at the clock next to his bed, it’s 6:25pm. The doorbell rings and my heart stills. Max looks puzzled.
“It’s my co-workers, we’re car-pooling. Will you grab the door and let them in?”
Might as well get this over with.
13
Max
I roll my eyes as I leave my bedroom and grab the door. I feel like a parent and I’ll be sending my kid off to the dance, hell I dressed him and now he’s got a ride.
I reach for the door and suddenly there is an incredibly hot redhead standing on my doorstep. She is vaguely familiar, but I just can’t place her. I step aside and let her inside with a smile. As she passes me, I have a fleeting reminder of a table of empty shot glasses, long beautiful legs, those legs wrapped around me and then I look up at the same time, but her face doesn’t fit.
No More Heartache: The MORE Duet Page 7
