“We were going to make it a surprise party, but we haven’t been able to reach Lily. Your mom left about five messages on her cell phone, and even called her a couple of times at work.”
Anna sighed and leaned back in her chair, feeling guilty about her silence. “Dad, there’s something you should know. Lily and I are having some problems right now. She’s staying somewhere else until we can get things worked out.”
Her father’s smile gave way to a pained expression. “Anna, why didn’t you say something? I . . . I hate this for you . . . for both of you. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You coming back to work is going to help a lot. But Lily and I still have things to work through. She’s had a really hard time with losing her mom, and I haven’t helped her as much as I should have.”
“I don’t know what to say, sweetheart. All of us are Lily’s family now, not just you. We love her, and we’re there for her.”
Anna could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. “Dad, that means so much to me. And it will mean so much to her too. I think a family is just what she needs.”
After four days of casual conversation, Lily had begun to talk to Tyler about the series of incidents that had brought her to Redwood Hills. Despite her cynicism, she found herself listening to the testimonials of her fellow residents, noting with chagrin the similarities between their stories and her own.
The step meetings were the most agonizing, especially all the God parts. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in a higher spiritual power. It was more that she didn’t trust that power to intervene in her life. The way she saw it, her problems were her own, and it was unrealistic to think some spiritual being might just take them away. Lying in her bed on Friday night, Lily recalled the talk from her mother’s gravesite two weeks ago. Hadn’t she called on her mother for help? Wasn’t it irrational to believe that her mom could help her when a higher power could not?
On her seventh day at Redwood Hills, Lily stood at the morning general meeting, speaking to the group for the first time.
“Good morning. My name is Lily, and I’m an alcoholic.”
Chapter 14
Lily tipped her chair back a bit so she could get a better look at the man sitting across from her at the table. Daryl was wiry and somewhat sloppy in appearance, in his mid-fifties, she guessed. She couldn’t help but think of Charles Haney, the man her biological mother had married. “I think everybody feels that way at first, like you really don’t belong here. But after a week or two—”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I belong here and I know it. I’m just saying it won’t make any difference. I’m going to do the same thing I did last time—sit through all these meetings until my time’s up. Then they’ll fill out the paperwork for the judge so that I won’t have to go to jail. And the second I walk out that door, I’ll go home and find out that it’s still the same fucked up place it was when I left. Then I’ll stretch out on the couch with a cold beer.”
Lily had been warned by Virginia that her week as peer counselor to someone like Daryl could prove challenging. “Was it drunk driving?”
He nodded shamelessly. “Third time’s a charm.”
“Once was enough for me. I’ll never forget that sick feeling in my stomach when all those lights started flashing in my rearview mirror. I sobered up in about a second.”
“I wasn’t even driving when the cops got there. I was wrapped around a light pole. I would have run off, but I couldn’t get the door open because it was bent so bad.”
It was hard to understand how a person could screw up like Daryl and not feel even a trace of remorse or a desire to turn his life around. “You ever try working the steps?”
He shrugged. “I admit I’m powerless over alcohol. But I like to drink. That’s what makes me powerless over alcohol.”
“And the other part of that step is to admit that your life has become unmanageable. Has it?”
“My ex-wife probably thinks so.” He folded his hands and leaned across the table, his look smug and almost playful. “What about you? Is your life unmanageable?”
Lily had uttered the words of the first step several times during the two weeks she had been at Redwood Hills. In her testimonials, which she had shared with her group and at the general session, she had itemized all the ways her life had come apart—from losing her driver’s license to losing her job, and even to losing the one she loved. What she hadn’t really talked about was how these things had rendered her life unmanageable.
Her mind was repeatedly flooded with thoughts of that awful night when Anna had angrily confronted her. Had she not been drinking, it never would have happened at all. And had she not been drunk, she would not have become defensive and combative. That’s why Anna had gotten hurt, because she was drunk and unable to think clearly, unable to manage. How many times since then had she envisioned that bursting gash coming from Anna’s head instead of her hand? Or what if the glass had severed her thumb? Lily knew she would never accept forgiveness for something so awful.
“For me, Daryl, it comes down to hurting people.” Her voice cracked with the admission. “That’s the part I can’t manage, because I can’t just turn it off and stop caring about the people I love. And if I really care about them, the last thing I want is to see them hurt.”
He sat quietly for a moment, his face now serious as if respectful of her obvious pain. “Sometimes we can’t help things like that.”
“But working the steps is what I have to do to get myself back in charge. If something bad happens, I don’t want it to be because I made a selfish decision to drink.”
“That’s just the thing right there.” He held up a finger. “Let’s say you get out of here all cured. I know they don’t call it cured, because alcohol’s a demon that stays with you, whether you drink it or not. But suppose you leave thinking you don’t need to drink anymore.”
Lily nodded. That’s what she hoped for, the conviction that she could be sober.
“Your life isn’t going to be perfect all of a sudden like somebody’s waved a magic wand. You won’t be in charge then any more than you were before you walked in that door. The only difference is that you won’t have a crutch anymore.”
“I don’t want a crutch, Daryl. I want to be able to walk on my own, and I can’t do that if I’m drunk.”
“I understand that. All I’m saying is don’t expect your life to be better just because you don’t drink. Everything that used to bother you is still going to be there. All the people that pissed you off will still piss you off. You still won’t have enough money, or enough love or enough whatever it is you didn’t have before.”
She drew in a deep breath, silently acknowledging the truth of his words. The bigger truth was that stopping drinking was no guarantee that Anna would have her back. And even if she did, it would have to be on her terms. The proof of that was in the conditions Anna had already laid down. Lily would likely go home to the same insecurities she felt before, and it was only a matter of time before—
“Just wait till you try to go making amends. That’s when the real fun starts.”
Lily looked at the clock, feeling that was enough cynicism for one day. It pained her to realize she had a whole week of Daryl ahead.
Anna pulled into the center lane, breathing a sigh of relief that the traffic back into LA was moving at a steady clip. The drive down to Orange County during rush hour had been nothing short of excruciating, but ultimately worth it.
The online community bulletin board had listed more than a hundred Al Anon meetings in the LA area. Anna had chosen Artesia for one simple reason—she knew no one who lived there. Just because the nurse at the hospital had said alcoholism was nothing to be ashamed of, that didn’t mean she wanted everyone to know about Lily. The organization’s very name underscored this anonymity.
Lily might not be too happy that she had ventured out to hear how others dealt with loved ones, but Al Anon wasn’t for alcoholics. It was for the relatives and fri
ends of those with alcohol problems. Her first surprise at the meeting had been the ritual reading of the Twelve Steps. Until tonight, it hadn’t occurred to her to admit that she too was powerless over alcohol, and that her life had become unmanageable. That had nothing to do with her own drinking behavior, and everything to do with how Lily’s drinking had impacted her life.
She had discovered Al Anon quite accidentally after concluding from Sandy’s hints that Lily had most likely entered a residential treatment program. That explained why she was gone from the Waterways Lodge and why her car was parked at Sandy and Suzanne’s. A Web search for area facilities yielded a list of dozens. Not that she was trying to track her down. She was more interested in learning about what she was going through, what her days might be like and when she might be finished. That’s when she had stumbled on mentions of Al Anon and discovered that others met and talked about their roles in the lives of alcoholics. She vaguely recalled the counselor at the hospital saying she was an “enabler” and she needed to understand what that meant.
Despite the realization of kinship with those at the meeting, she had not spoken up this evening. Instead, she listened as, one by one, people rose to share their stories. They were women and men, young and old, professionally dressed and casual. Yet, there was no attention to their differences, only their commonality of purpose—because someone who had a problem with alcohol had impacted their life.
Following their testimonials, there was a brief discussion about how the members regarded their own drinking behavior. From what Anna had gathered, the consensus was to abstain, though the reasons varied. One of the younger members feared he would become like his father, drunk and abusive to his children. A middle-aged woman in a waitress uniform thought it best to remove the temptation from their home, and to avoid reminders to her husband that others could drink freely.
The one who had moved Anna most was Arlene, a woman of about forty dressed in business attire not unlike her own. She described her husband’s struggles in work and social settings, the times he felt the most external pressure to drink. At first, she had reasoned that since others around them were already drinking, it didn’t matter if she enjoyed a glass of wine here and there too. Then one night at a party, she watched him wrestle with the urge and realized how out of place he must have felt. From that day on, she abstained, and it gave her both empathy for his efforts, and pride in his perseverance.
The best thing about the meeting tonight was that it had given Anna a sense of anticipation, an eagerness to show Lily that she was ready to help her face these challenges. When she opened the garage, she felt a wave of hope that soon Lily’s car would be home.
The first order of business—as always—was Chester. He was overjoyed to see her, and followed her from room to room. After changing into jeans, she took him for a quick walk and returned to scrape together something to eat. She was off her peanut butter sandwich kick for now, and dined instead on French bread, Gouda cheese and pepperoni, and fruit salad. Sitting down while eating . . . such a novel idea, she thought.
When she finished, she retrieved the recycling bin from the garage. Then she rounded up and methodically emptied all of the wine and liquor bottles she could find and tossed them in the bin. To that, she added her entire set of leaded crystal wineglasses, the ones she had gotten as a wedding gift, along with brandy snifters and beer mugs.
With a final burst of energy, she dragged the wooden wine rack from the pantry to the garage, where she broke it apart with a hammer and stuffed it in the garbage can. By midday tomorrow, the trash collectors would take away every remnant of alcohol from their home.
Lily sipped her coffee from the worn ceramic mug, her final cup at Redwood Hills. She had passed on lunch, hoping Sandy and Suzanne would run her by the drive-through window at the In-N-Out Burger in Glendale. Her stomach rumbled, both from hunger and nervousness, as the others finished eating.
A man named Mickey was chairing the general meeting today, and he kicked it off with the familiar reading of the Twelve Steps.
“Today is Lily’s last day with us, and she’s asked to speak.”
She rose shakily and approached the podium. “I’m Lily, and I’m powerless over alcohol.”
“Hi, Lily,” they murmured. Some were already smiling at her accomplishment, no doubt imagining their own farewell speeches.
She cleared her throat and took a deep breath, hoping her first sentence wouldn’t cause her to cry. “I lost my mom back in June . . . at least I thought I did. When I came to Redwood Hills twenty-eight days ago, I missed her so badly, I thought I’d never stop hurting inside. After the first week or so, I have to admit I was getting pretty discouraged. I listened to your stories, and I kept thinking I could never do this on my own the way so many of you seemed to be doing. You were moving ahead . . . and I wasn’t.”
She made eye contact with a handful of people who had arrived within a few days of her start of the program. They had been through a lot together.
“People talked about calling on their higher power, and I started to get worried, because that sort of thing just didn’t work for me. I’ve never been much of a religious person, but I do believe there’s a spirit inside all of us that guides us to do the right thing if we just let it.
“I woke up early one morning, ready to just give up and walk out the front door. Then I heard my mother’s voice inside my head. She was telling me I could do this, and encouraging me just like she always did. That’s when I realized she was going to be my higher power.”
Blinking back tears, she looked again at the faces of those she had come to care for over the last four weeks.
“As I leave here, I know I’m going back to a world of problems that won’t change just because I’ve stopped drinking.” She smiled at Daryl, who gave her a knowing wink. “What’s changed is me, and that’s happened because of the strength I’ve drawn from all of you, and from my mother. I can’t promise I won’t stumble down the road. I know it happens. But today, I feel victorious, because I’ve armed myself with the conviction that I can recover.”
“Amen,” several said, as heads bobbed around the room.
She stepped down from the podium and into the arms of Virginia, who had promised to serve as her sponsor.
“You have my number. You can call me anytime, day or night.”
“Thanks. I was lucky to find you.”
Following her good-byes, she returned to her room for her things. Through the window, she could see Sandy and Suzanne waiting in the parking lot. Joy and fear fought for dominance as she pushed open the glass door and walked into the bright sunlight. Joy was winning.
Chapter 15
“You’re not going to believe this, but I feel like the last three weeks just flew by,” Lily said. “The first one was a little dicey, though.”
Sandy laughed. “I can imagine. Every time my phone rang, I figured it was you calling me to come get you.”
Suzanne joined them at the table. “You should have seen her. She never wanted to answer the phone.”
“I probably would have called if you hadn’t taken my cell phone. But once I got into the program, I never even considered not finishing.”
“So are you done?” Suzanne asked.
“Alcoholics aren’t ever really done. We just stop drinking one day at a time.”
“Like the bumper sticker.”
“Yeah. And one of the recommendations when you first start is to do ninety meetings in ninety days. So I have sixty-two more AA meetings before I’ll be able to set my own schedule.”
“Where will your meetings be?” Sandy asked.
“My sponsor looked it up. There’s a Methodist church about three miles from Playa del Rey that has one every morning at seven.”
“Playa del Rey? I don’t think so,” Sandy said. “You can plan on staying here now.”
“No offense, guys, but I haven’t had a moment alone in a month. I need my space.” She also needed a more permanent place to live, bu
t for now, she liked the idea of being back at the familiar lodge near the beach.
“Fine, but I’m coming to get you for dinner at least twice a week. You don’t need to be eating that crap out of the vending machines.”
Suzanne added, “And you can take my mountain bike. I don’t use it that much anyway.”
“Boy, is that an understatement,” Sandy said, rolling her eyes. “She rode it twice.”
Lily laughed at Suzanne’s injured look. “I really appreciate everything you guys have done for me. In fact, starting today, I promise to be a better friend to you both. I’ve been on the receiving end of things too long.”
“You don’t owe us anything, Lil. That’s what we’re here for,” Suzanne said.
“Just humor me, Suzanne. It’s part of my program. I’m supposed to make amends to those I’ve harmed, and you guys are on my list.”
Sandy put her hand on Lily’s arm. “You haven’t harmed us, Lily. But it’s good news if it means we’re going to be seeing more of you.”
“And I have to fix things with Tony, of course, and by extension everybody else in the office who cleaned up after me. I plan to call him on Monday to see if I can come back to work. But it’s possible he’ll say no. I really screwed up there.”
“You’re good at what you do,” Sandy said. “There’s no way Tony won’t take you back.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.” Lily had no idea what she would do if she couldn’t go back to work at the clinic.
“So when will you call Anna?”
She had spent much of the last week thinking about Anna. “Eventually, but not right away. I’m just not sure I’m ready to talk to her. I have to apologize for all the trouble I caused, but I don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“She loves you, you know,” Sandy said.
“Yeah, I know. And I love her.” Lily was still grappling with doubts about how they had parted, and how Anna had just gone on with her life as though nothing had happened. As if that wasn’t enough, she had Daryl’s reminders that the rest of the world would be just as she left it. If anything, Anna was further than ever from making the commitment Lily knew she needed.
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