by Hazel Parker
Alyssa, too, shed tears, but she didn’t say a word as I spoke, making it impossible to tell if they were tears of anger or tears of empathy. She put her hand on my wrist at one point and gave it a firm squeeze, which suggested some support, but still…
“I’m so sorry, Alyssa,” I said in between sobs. “I’m so sorry you don’t have your mother here. I’m so sorry I lied to you. I’m just… I’ve been a terrible father for this. I’m sorry.”
“Dad…” her voice trailed off before she burst into full on crying.
I stood out of my chair and hugged her, something she took with ease. I didn’t know how our relationship would change because of this, but I swore to do everything in my power to make sure she never got hurt again. No matter what it took, no matter how much she pushed me away, I would do everything in my power to protect her. I was not going to lose a second family member because of a mistake on my part.
“It hurts,” she said. “But mostly because we can’t bring her back. I don’t even know her, and I love her.”
“She was an amazing person,” I said. “But you do know her.”
My daughter looked at me like I was talking crazy.
“You are basically her,” I said, one of the most emotional things I had ever said. “All of the charisma and cheer, all of the beauty, all of the smarts… you are her, Alyssa. When you look in the mirror, imagine yourself a fully grown woman. And that’s Mom.”
Alyssa smiled and dabbed away tears.
“You know, Dad,” she said, her sniffling slowing down. “I wish I had Mom. But I have you, and you’re my Dad. And because of that, I know everything is going to be alright.”
I don’t think I’d ever heard more touching words in my life. I pulled her back into a hug, squeezing her as if I never wanted her to face anything bad in life ever again. I loved this little girl, and she would be my pride and joy until the day I died.
“Thank you, Alyssa,” I said, kissing her on the top of the head.
The thought briefly entered my mind to go back to the hospital to discuss club business, but it was a thought quickly dismissed. We weren’t going to do anything tonight, anyway, and even if we did, I was too emotionally exhausted to be thinking about doing anything else.
“Let’s say Dad gets the chance to make it up to you,” I said. “You want to go get some ice cream at Sam’s?”
It was like telling a dog they were about to get bones. Her eyes widened, and in the snap of a finger, she practically went from crying and sad to joyful.
“Can we get three scoops of the ice cream? You know I have to try vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry all at once!”
What was I going to do, say no? She was all the family I had left, and she had just said the greatest words she ever had to me.
“Of course, dear,” I said. “Anything for you.”
Chapter 16: Courtney
I woke up to a pounding headache.
Unfortunately, that was nothing new. What was new, though, was the intensity of said headache; it wasn’t just a pounding. It felt like a goddamn jackhammer that wouldn’t relent in my head.
I also noticed that I was not… I was not in my room…
What the fuck had happened? I scanned my memories of what had happened last night.
I remembered Vance telling me that he was a member of the Savage Saints, and me losing my mind. As you should have, the jackass kept that from you. I then headed home in tears, a hot and embarrassed mess of a woman, and had about half a bottle of wine, maybe more. I then headed to the store… I think I got some gin…
And that was about all I remembered. There were some blurry images about spilling something, and half the reason I was pretty sure I got gin was because I could smell it on me right now, but on the whole, I didn’t remember shit. How I got to a…
A fucking hospital?
Oh, Christ, what had I done?
I was all alone. At least daylight was streaming through the windows, but I had no context for what that meant time wise. Had I been in a coma? Had I just drank a lot and passed out? What time was it? I looked for the call nurse button, desperately searching everything I could to try and locate it, but just moving was painful. My brain felt like it wanted to shrivel up and die from the pain that it felt.
Finally, I found it.
“Hello, Courtney Ross, how are you feeling?”
That nurse sounded way too cheerful for me.
“Can someone come in?”
I was shocked at how raspy my voice was. My throat was so dry and so parched that just the utterance of four words felt like a burn on my vocal cords.
“Yes, Miss Ross, one moment.”
Miss Ross…
It reminded me that I was a teacher. But I was a teacher who had woken up in the hospital after a night of heavy drinking and likely some seriously poor decisions. The best I could assume was that I had passed out in public and been taken as a precaution. The worst… the worst was just too bad to fathom. I didn’t want to go down the rabbit hole of possibilities.
A young nurse, a blonde who was probably even younger than me, entered the room. She wasn’t so young that she could have been one of my students, but it wasn’t unfathomable to believe that one of her younger siblings could be. I was pretty sure word was going to get out, anyway. In a small town like this…
“Hi, Miss Ross; I’m Taylor. What’s going on?”
“Why am I here?”
Taylor nodded.
“You got into a drunk driving accident last night.”
Oh, Christ…
I had done a lot of stupid shit, I’d even driven drunk before, but I had never gotten in a wreck before. This was bad, this was really bad; I just hoped I hadn’t killed anyone else.
“Thankfully, you took your foot off the accelerator as you fell asleep at the wheel, so it was a relatively minor accident. You have a concussion and some damaged ribs, but you should make a full recovery.”
“Thanks…”
But no thanks to you. You let it get that far? And because Vance hid some facts for you?
Christ…
“Anything else I should know?” I said, almost nervous at the answer.
“Um, nothing I can think of,” Taylor said. “We haven’t allowed any visitors so far, as none of them are family. We can start letting them in any time you want, though. The guys who called in followed you and wanted to see you, but we couldn’t let them.”
“The guys?” I said, even though I already had a sneaking feeling of whom she was referring to.
“Five of the Savage Saints,” she said. “They called it in and asked to ride in the ambulance with you. We wouldn’t allow it, so they just followed you on bikes. I think a few of them are still here or are coming and going. One of their other members is in the hospital here.”
“Because of me?” I asked nervously.
“No, it was a one-person accident.”
As far as drunk driving accidents went, I supposed I got quite lucky. I hadn’t killed anyone, including myself, and it sounded like I’d make a full recovery.
But the physical trauma I had suffered would pale in comparison to everything else I was about to face. I was willing to bet that my car was destroyed; at best, it would have visible, obvious damage, something that I couldn’t bring to Green Hills High’s campus and get away with. If it was ruined, I had no means of transportation in a town in which there were no public options.
And the school… I had just told the principal that I didn’t have a drinking problem, and now here I was, in the hospital for drunk driving. How was I not going to get fired? How was I not going to be unemployed because of this?
All because I couldn’t handle a man telling me a little lie. This is so bad. So, so bad. I can’t believe I let it come to this.
“Please let us know if you need anything else, Miss Ross, and we’ll be happy to help.”
“Water, please,” I said.
Taylor nodded and went to get some water. Everything on my body h
urt, and yet I would have gladly taken on more pain if it meant removing the social stigma I justifiably deserved after what I’d done. I would’ve taken more if I wasn’t worried about my car. I would have…
My stomach began to turn. I hurriedly looked for a trash can nearby but couldn’t find anything. I couldn’t hold it in, and the force of moving meant I couldn’t make it to the bathroom. I ended up vomiting right there on the hospital bed—and I’m not sure a more apt moment could have better summed up my life than right there.
Taylor returned a few moments later, and I suspect that as a nurse, she had seen much worse. She seemed completely unfazed by what she saw and got to cleaning it up, but I was so embarrassed. Since when had I dropped so low as to have a nurse clean up my vomit because I couldn’t handle my liquor? What was I, a fucking absentminded grandma?
I began to sob, but I was so dehydrated and hungover that it hurt to cry. This was a real problem, considering that I wasn’t in any state to stop myself from crying.
I couldn’t win. I just couldn’t win.
I needed help, and I needed a lot of it.
I leaned back into the pillow and tried to sleep after Taylor had left, hoping that I would get some sort of distance from all of this. Maybe this was just a really bad drunk dream, and when I woke up, it would be like A Christmas Carol—I’d realize how bad my future would be if I never adjusted, and when I woke up in the present, I would feel so much happier and cheerful and change my ways.
But I knew better than to believe in bullshit like that. This was real. This was as real as the bed beneath my back. I had to face whatever consequences came my way.
“Miss Ross?” Taylor said. “The sheriff would like to see you.”
I rolled my eyes, but even that was painful. I just stared at the ceiling and said, “OK.”
A few moments later, the door opened, and a man by the name of Sheriff Wiggins entered the room, dressed from head to toe in a brown uniform. I tried to steady my breathing and avoid crying, but nothing was going to stop the fact that I had gotten into this mess. I didn’t deserve to be even-keeled right now.
“How are you feeling, young lady?” he said.
He seemed remarkably friendly for the fact that he was about to charge me with DUI. I decided the best approach was just to be as polite and professional as possible. I didn’t want to be like one of those little girls that cried and cried, trying to get sympathy from the police.
“Not good,” I said.
“I can imagine,” he said. “So, here’s the deal. I am just going to lay it out for you. You totaled your car.”
Fuck… and that’s probably the least of my concerns, let’s be honest.
“The Saints came and called 911 for you. I’m no doctor, so I don’t know if you would have survived the night without medical attention, but you certainly have them to thank for calling. By all accounts, they called just seconds after the wreck.”
I barely nodded. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the sheriff in the eyes right now.
“It was a contained accident, so there was no damage to any other individuals or manslaughter or anything of that nature. You did cause some property damage, but you have friends who are making sure that gets taken care of for you. Of course, there is the reality that you drove under the influence, and in the state of California, driving under the influence and driving with a BAC over point oh eight are two separate offenses.”
“Damnit,” I muttered.
“Yes, I’m sorry, Miss Ross,” he said.
The worst part was, he really did sound sympathetic to my situation. He genuinely did sound like a sweet guy who had to administer punishments which, most of the time, he didn’t enjoy doing. But that just made it worse because it reminded me how much pity I was getting right now.
“What was my BAC?” I said, nervous about the question.
“Zero point two. More than double the legal limit.”
Fuck me…
“I’m probably still drunk.”
I hadn’t said it at all like a joke. Unlike most people who would make such a statement as a wisecrack about their Saturday nights, that was just an admission of how bad I was.
“So, the bad news is you’ve got those two charges pressed on you,” he said. “However, the good news is that we have something that can help this be handled.”
I looked at him askance, wondering what the hell that meant. Now it was the sheriff who looked through his notes.
But before he did, he stood.
“I’m going to wait to discuss any deals until later so that you have a clear mind when we get to them,” he advised. “But just know, Miss Ross, that you have people here who care about you. Get the help you need. I can only help you so much.”
You can help me so much?
What does that mean?
“Feel better, young lady.”
With that, he headed out of the room. I suppose I should have been, um, happy about only having those charges?
No, happy wasn’t right. There was nothing happy about this. This was just ridiculous. There was no silver lining. I was an idiot. A fucking idiot!
Twenty minutes later, things got much worse. I got to face the real consequences of my actions.
“Miss Ross,” Taylor, the nurse, buzzed in. “You have a visitor from work? A Jerry Patrick?”
Oh shit. Oh, Jesus. I’m about to get fired. Fuck me.
“OK,” I said.
What was I going to do, turn him away? And besides, I was so tired and so hungover that I didn’t have the energy for a fight. Apparently, today was just the day when everything got laid out at me, and I had to bear the consequences. I deserved all of them.
Jerry, the school’s principal, entered seconds later. Instead of his bow tie, he wore a suit and a green tie.
“Good morning, Miss Ross,” he said with a compassionate smile. Maybe he’s not going to fire me? I think he wouldn’t look like this if he was… “I’m glad to see you’re alive.”
I tried to smile, but it hurt, so I just murmured, “Thank you,” trying not to move too much.
“I heard about what happened,” he said, taking a seat. “You know, I was at church today. And one of the biggest themes that we speak about in church is forgiveness and redemption.”
This was… this was about as promising a start as I could have asked for.
“But, in addition to that, we also have themes of accountability. One must fight for what is right and bear the consequences of that fight.”
OK, now I’m gone.
“Miss Ross, you are a beloved member of our community, and though I am disappointed in the events that happened last night after our conversation on Friday, I can understand that people believe they have things under control when it is apparent they don’t,” he said. “I do believe that you take your job seriously, and that you put the students first, and that you are devoted to making them smarter and more well-educated. However, there must be consequences.”
Just tell me what’s going to happen. Please. If I’m fired, I’m fired, but don’t tease me like this.
“We are putting you on administrative leave for the rest of the school year,” he said. “We will take you back in at the start of the next fall under two major conditions. The first one is that you go to rehabilitation. While normally something like this would be a bit strong for one incident, I have to take into account the public reaction to the event and your prior reputation.”
The cascade of emotions was all over the place. At first, I just felt utter relief that I was not being fired, only being placed on leave. That was the kind of news that meant I still had a future. When I heard Jerry say it, I all but shut down; my mind could relax a bit instead of having to go into a full-blown panic about my future.
Then it went to accepting of going to rehab. Clearly, just being in AA wasn’t enough; if it were, I wouldn’t have done what I did last night. If this were the kick in the ass I needed to get the right kind of help, then someday, I’d look
back on this with gratitude.
But then I heard the words “public reaction” and sunk.
“Does everyone know?”
Jerry nodded.
“It made the news last night,” he said. “I have already had a few parents call in demanding that you be fired. I will not relent to them, but Miss Ross. This is the only chance I can give you. You must go to rehab between now and August, and you must not slip up again. I would suggest going sober entirely. Do not try and moderate it. You will only fail.”
And then he said something that got me to look at him with widened eyes.
“I know this because I went through the same trials thirty years ago.”
“You?” I said, surprised.
Jerry nodded, a compassionate smile still on his face.
“I know what it’s like to battle the demons of addiction,” he said. “Perhaps that is why I am willing to give you a chance that others don’t want. In any case, though, take the time to recover. As soon as you are released, start looking for sober living homes or something like that. And please keep me informed; I understand anonymity is necessary to some extent, but if I’m going to keep you employed, I at least need to know that you have entered and then completed rehab.”
“Understood,” I said, just feeling enormously grateful that my life was not yet a total shithole. I still had a future—albeit one hanging by a thread that I could not keep together on my own. “Thank you, sir.”
“You are welcome, Miss Ross,” he said warmly. “As I said, I believe strongly in redemption. Do everything you can, not just for us, but for yourself, to get better.”
With that, he stood, nodded his farewell, and headed out the door.
It felt like I had just avoided the worst case scenario. I still had a job. I still had a future.
But it was heavily conditional, and I would not have a future if I stuck with the same habits and behaviors. I—
The door opened again.