Second Chances

by Lincoln Cole

  “Come on, time to eat,” Rico called into the living room. Tyler came bounding into the kitchen after only seconds, shoveling food onto a plate.

  “I’m not hungry,” Kenni said.

  “You have to eat something,” Rico said. “Even if you aren’t hungry.”

  Kenni didn’t reply. She stood up, headed up the stairs, and disappeared onto the second floor landing. A second later they heard her door slam shut.

  Rico shook his head and looked helplessly at Nichole.

  Nichole didn’t know what to say. “Are you eating here?”

  “I’m going over to Anita’s,” Rico said. “And I’m staying the night there. You got them?”

  “I’ll take care of them.”

  “Make sure Kenni does her homework.”

  “I don’t think they gave her any,” Nichole replied. “But I’ll try to get her to come out and eat something.”

  “Thanks, sis,” Rico said. He grabbed his keys. “If you need anything, just call.”

  Then he headed outside. Nichole watched him leave and then grabbed a plate for herself.

  “Want to watch Captain America?” Tyler shouted from the living room.

  Nichole finished scooping out a plate and then shrugged the last of her depression away. What happened was done, and there was nothing she could do about it now.

  “Sure,” she said, heading in to join her little brother. “Let’s watch Captain America.”

  Chapter 14

  Richard

  “We’re going to need to make a stop,” Jason said. “Just for a quick minute at the gas station up here.”

  “The tank is almost full,” Richard replied, glancing over curiously.

  “I need to pick up some donuts,” Jason said. “Something for people to snack on with their coffee.”

  Richard chuckled. “How stereotypical of you. An AA meeting having coffee and donuts? No way.”

  “Everyone likes donuts. Even people who pretend they don’t because they are watching their figure. They like them the most.”

  “Why a gas station? Why not a donut shop?”

  “I don’t have ‘donut shop’ money,” Jason joked. “And those little chocolate ones are really good anyway. The ones that come in a huge bag.”

  “I hate those things. Let’s get some bear claws,” Richard said, pulling his wallet out of his jacket pocket and removing a twenty. “My treat.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah,” Richard said. “I haven’t had a good bear claw in years and I am kind of hungry.”

  Jason shrugged. “Alright.”

  They slipped past the gas station and pulled into a donut shop a quarter mile up the road. Richard had to push hard to get the car door open and then followed his brother inside.

  The line was short this late in the day, and a bored looking teenager with freckles covering her face waited to serve them. “What do you guys need?”

  “How many should we get?” Richard asked Jason.

  “Two dozen?” Jason offered, stepping up to the counter.

  “Is that enough?”

  “Plenty,” Jason said.

  Richard nodded. He turned to the girl helping them. “Sure, two dozen then.”

  “Which kind?” she asked.

  Jason tapped his finger against the glass each time he picked something: “Two of those. Let’s see. Five of those. Three of those. Eight of those. Two of those, those, and those.”

  The girl frantically grabbed pastries with a piece of glorified wax paper and tossed them into a box as Jason called them out.

  “Anything else?” she asked.

  “No, that should be good,” Jason replied.

  “Actually,” Richard said, a little annoyed, “throw two bear claws in as well.”

  The woman grabbed them up. “Oops,” Jason mumbled, pointing at the case. “I thought that one was a bear claw.”

  “No, that’s similar, but made with apple. The real ones use almonds.”

  “Oh.”

  Richard shrugged, handing the twenty to the woman and collecting his change. “Easy mistake to make.”

  “You guys have a good day,” the girl said, turning away from the counter and seeming to forget they ever existed.

  Jason clutched the box and headed for the car.

  “All the different kinds of donuts do have names, you know?” Richard teased as they climbed in. “Like John Long, Buttermilk, chocolate dipped, and French Cruller.”

  Jason laughed. “I’m sure they do. I prefer the ‘point and look starved’ method to buying them though. Then I don’t feel as guilty shoving them into my face.”

  “Makes sense” Richard chuckled as they climbed into the car. Jason handed him the box and Richard let it rest on his lap.

  “Thanks,” Jason said. “It’ll be a nice treat having something a little more expensive tonight. Means a lot.”

  “Not a problem,” Richard said.

  They started rolling again, heading back down the road toward the clinic. Richard had driven paste the clinic several times. One of his clients worked on the same road.

  He’d never actually stopped to go inside though. It was an old storefront, if he remembered right, that was converted and remodeled when his brother first began renting it.

  When they arrived the parking lot was empty. The storefronts to the right and left were rundown and had been closed for years. The parking lot itself was marred with potholes and the divider lines were faded to all but nothing.

  The clinic itself, though, looked relatively well off. His brother took pretty good care of it. The front was old with dust covered glass but the welcome sign was new. It said simply: ‘AA Clinic: All Welcome.’

  Richard carried the donuts inside and Jason disappeared down the back hallway, flipping various light switches as he went. They were the annoying fluorescent lights that buzzed as they came to life.

  The main area was one large common room, and the hallway led to a set of offices in the back. An ancient fan started spinning overhead, lazy and wobbly.

  He could see dust particles hanging in the air. There was no furniture in the room to speak of, but he did see a wall rack filled with foldout chairs with a couple of foldable plastic tables leaned against them.

  Jason reappeared a second later. “Oh, sorry,” he said, noticing that Richard was still carrying the donuts. He grabbed one of the tables off of the wall and locked the legs into position.

  Richard set the flimsy box down, still glancing around the area. A few posters lined the wall, the motivational sort with cute kittens or Olympic athletes on them. Each had an overindulgent quote that would make a motivational speaker weep for joy.

  “Looks nice,” he said, being polite.

  “Thanks.”

  “A little dusty,” Richard said. “But we could always open some windows.”

  “Sure,” Jason said. “I love this weather. It’s warm, but not uncomfortable. Wish it was like this year round.”

  Jason started grabbing chairs from the rack and unfolding them while Richard opened the various windows. They were old and heavy and he had to strain to move them, but it was nice to get fresh air into the old room.

  “This used to be a store?”

  “Dance studio,” Jason replied. “That’s why it has hardwood floors. I always loved that about this place.”

  “Guess no one liked dancing.”

  Jason shrugged. “It’s the neighborhood. People don’t have money for food out here, so they definitely don’t have money for dance lessons.”

  “Is that why you picked this area? To be close to your clientele?”

  Jason didn’t reply, just unfolded another chair.

  Richard reminded himself to be diplomatic. He slid open another window, grinding the wood where it was warped with age. The place was rundown. Cozy, but definitely old.

  By the time he was finished and heading back to the center of the room Jason was half finished setting out his chairs. They were being laid out in a giant
ring, about twenty of them, facing inward.

  Richard grabbed one off the rack to help. “Why a circle?” he asked, setting it into place.

  “You mean instead of using a raised stage or facing the chairs the same direction?” Jason replied.

  “Yeah.”

  “Personal preference I guess. I think the circle implies continuity and equality. I don’t force people to talk when they come in, but they can still be an equal part of the conversation even when they don’t share something. It also feels less threatening for the person talking because they don’t have to stand at a podium as the center of attention.”

  “Makes a lot of sense,” Richard said. “It’s more welcoming that way.”

  They did similar things at the law office downtown to make clients feel welcome and secure. In his line of work it all came down to presentation.

  “Plus I hate staring at people’s backs,” Jason finished. Richard chuckled.

  “I know what you mean. I hate having other people stare at mine.”

  The front door opened. A short woman with frazzled hair, a tiny nose, and big lips shuffled into the room. She wore loose fitting clothes that didn’t match colors at all. She would have been attractive if it wasn’t for the bags under her eyes.

  “Hey Marlene,” Jason said, waving. “You’re just in time to help us set up.”

  She smiled and shuffled further in. “Ooh, you got real donuts this time,” she said, a thick Brooklyn accent decorating her speech.

  “Courtesy of my brother. Marlene, this is Richard. He’s a couple years older than me. Richard, meet Marlene.”

  She looked Richard over for a few seconds and then dismissed him, turning back to Jason. “Want me to get some coffee brewing?”

  “If you don’t mind,” Jason replied. She shuffled off down the hallway.

  “Marlene is a regular,” Jason explained to Richard once she was gone. He grabbed another chair and set it into position.

  “She looks really…tired,” Richard said diplomatically.

  “That would be from her kids. She hasn’t had a drink in twelve years, but her kids are little hellions, I hear.”

  “Twelve years, but she still comes to meetings?”

  “Every meeting we host,” Jason said, grabbing the last chair and completing the circle. He leaned against it. “I think I’ve missed more meetings than she has. She’s sort of my honorary assistant, when you really get down to it. And I appreciate her help.”

  “I don’t think I could do that,” Richard said. “Once I’d made it a couple months sober I’d probably stop showing up. Why the hell would someone keep going to AA twelve years after they were sober?”

  “Maybe she just likes it here,” Jason replied with a shrug. “She works in a gentleman’s establishment as a bartender, so she’s always surrounded with alcohol.”

  “Ah,” Richard said. It was the only thing he could think of to say. “I couldn’t imagine working around something I’m personally trying to avoid.”

  “Takes a lot of discipline,” Jason said.

  “That it does.”

  “But she’s a really sweet person. She wants to go back to school and do something better, just doesn’t have money.”

  “They all say that,” Richard said, then regretted it.

  Jason shrugged.

  “Just about everyone does, I know. A lot mean it, they just don’t know where to start. Marlene is good for her kids though, and wants them to have a better life than she did. Anything I can do to help her helps them,” Jason said. “At least that’s how I look at it.”

  “It’s a good philosophy,” Richard said. “But kids usually mimic the environment and actions they are exposed to.”

  “You sound like a psychologist,” Jason said. “And a pessimistic one at that.”

  “I spend my life studying people, too.”

  “The kids might end up in the same position,” Jason admitted. “But I don’t want to count them out without giving them a chance. If I try to help a thousand kids, but only succeed in helping one, then I consider it a success.”

  “Not a statistical success,” Richard said, “but I understand what you are saying.”

  Marlene called from down the hallway: “Can one of you gents come help me with this?”

  “I’ll help her,” Richard said.

  “You sure?”

  “Yep.”

  Jason wiped his hands on his pants. “Then in that case I’m going to grab a donut before people start showing up.”

  Chapter 15

  Richard

  Richard headed down the hallway. There were a couple of side offices and a storage room. They all looked packed with useless things that were rarely used. Dust covered half of it, making it clear both that they only interacted with half of their supplies and that they didn’t have a cleaner to keep the dust at bay.

  He found Marlene in one of the side offices, pouring coffee into a large dispenser. She had another pot brewing.

  “Sorry,” she said as he came in, “it’s just kind of heavy.”

  “Why don’t you just fill it out there, then?” he asked, gesturing back toward the lobby.

  The look she gave him made it clear she thought that was a stupid question.

  “Because the coffee maker is in here,” she explained. It sounded like the voice she would use to explain things to children.

  Richard decided it might be better not to argue. “Does it just go on the table out there?”

  “Yep. Just set it next to the donuts. I’ll bring the cups out.”

  “Okay,” Richard said. Marlene grabbed a stack of Styrofoam cups and disappeared. He eyed the dispenser for a minute. “How heavy can it be?”

  It turned out that it could be quite heavy. He staggered back down the hallway with it, holding it like a giant baby.

  Fully filled it was incredibly awkward to carry, sloshing liquid back and forth and throwing him off balance. He grunted and staggered his way back to the lobby.

  Halfway down he noticed a large sticker on the side recommending it not be moved while there was liquid inside.

  Nevertheless he got it to the table, panting and out of breath. The place was starting to fill up and about half of the chairs had people in them now. A few newcomers were milling about, munching on donuts and conversing.

  “Thanks,” Jason said, biting into a chocolate frosted monstrosity. People flocked to the coffee dispenser within seconds of it being set down, filling their cups and pushing Richard aside.

  “Things heavy.”

  “Yeah,” Jason said. “I usually ask Jon to bring it out. He’s a body builder.”

  “Ah,” Richard said. “I’m definitely not.”

  “Oh, a bear claw!” he heard someone say behind him. It sounded like Marlene.

  He turned quickly, realizing he’d forgotten to separate his donuts out, and watched Marlene pull a bear claw out of the box with her hand. He hurried to the box and glanced inside.

  It was almost empty already, and the other bear claw was missing.

  He looked up just in time to watch her take a big bite out of his donut. “Oh god, I love these things,” she said, mouth full and rolling her eyes up in exaggerated pleasure. “Greatest things in the world.”

  Richard let out a long sigh. “Yeah, they are pretty good.”

  She stopped chewing. “Oh, sorry, did you want one too?”

  He waved his hand in vague annoyance. “No, it’s okay. I got those specifically for me, but it’s alright. Enjoy it.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “Not a big deal.”

  “Ooh, try that one right there! The one with apple in it. Practically the same thing!”

  She walked away, leaving Richard to stew in his annoyance. He blew out a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Not even close to the same thing,” he mumbled to himself. “Just one night. I only have to survive one night.”

  A large woman c
ame over to the box and glanced inside. She had ruddy cheeks and big jowls and was wearing a flamboyant pink dress. She eyed each donut, sizing them up like a predator, and then selected one with cream filling, little chocolate flakes, and cream cheese icing on top. She took a dainty bite and then seemed to notice Richard for the first time.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hello,” Richard replied.

  He grabbed one of the Styrofoam cups and poured himself some of the coffee. The first sip made him wince. Too strong and a terrible aftertaste that would probably linger for hours.

  “I’m Angelina.”

  “Richard,” he said.

  They shook hands. Richard set his coffee on the table, glancing around for a trashcan to toss it in.

  “I haven’t seen you around here. Are you new?”

  “Something like that,” Richard replied.

  “How long?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “How long have you been sober? I’m at seven months.”

  He stared at her. “Do I look like an alcoholic?”

  “No, you look like an asshole,” she said, flashing him a quick smile. “But we don’t judge here.”

  She wandered away. Richard decided to move away from the table with food on it. Too many people were congregating at it and he didn’t feel like conversing with any of them. He retreated to the chairs instead.

  He took the one beside his brother and checked his watch. “How long ‘til this thing starts?”

  “A few minutes,” Jason said. “Once people finish eating.”

  “Good,” Richard replied.

  “How were your bear claws?”

  Richard only sighed in response.

  The chairs filled up as the sounds of slurping and chewing gradually faded away. They were replaced by the sound of conversing as people separated into small groups with their neighbors.

  Nineteen people showed up to the meeting in total, Richard counted. Most wore cheap clothes, faded with wear, and a goodly portion of them looked disheveled or exhausted.

  Gradually the room quieted down and everyone turned their attention to Jason. He stood up from his chair and cleared his throat:

  “Anyone want to start us off?” he asked.

  Richard glanced around. Most of the congregation looked away. Many seemed nervous, carefully guarding their secrets.