Missing Parts

by Lucinda Berry

  I tried to pay attention to the rest of the speaker’s share as he described how his relationship with his son had been restored. They were now a part of each other’s lives and had grown closer than he’d ever imagined, but he’d had to go through a painful period of time while he made amends to his son. He told how he opened himself up to giving his son permission to express all the anger and pain he had toward him during therapy sessions. He detailed how he had to sit in a chair, listening to it all, without trying to fix or minimize it.

  “My relationship with my son is the greatest gift of my sobriety. I can’t believe it, but I’ve finally become the father I’ve always dreamed of being.” He beamed. Everyone clapped. “Thank you for listening to me share.”

  I didn’t wait for the closing prayer before I jumped up and bolted to my car. I heard footsteps behind me.

  “Hey, Sarah, hold on,” Joe said.

  I didn’t know he knew my name. I stopped, not wanting to turn around. I stood with my back toward him as he came up behind me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “It’s okay. You’re going to be all right. You’ll get through this. Whatever it is.”

  I still hadn’t turned around. I shook my head harder this time. I could barely speak through my emotions. “Have you ever done something so horrendous that there’s no way to make it better?”

  He was silent for a moment.

  “Yes,” he said, softly.

  His words made me cry harder. No matter what he’d done, there was no way he’d done anything close to the enormity of what I’d done. He put his hand on my back while I cried, not moving to hold me as if he sensed I’d run away if he got too close. He kept his hand placed on my back while I wept.

  “I killed a woman.” His voice cracked.

  My head snapped up and I flipped around to face him. “What?”

  “I thought you knew. Everyone else does.” His cheeks were flushed.

  “I had no idea,” I said.

  “Let’s get out of here. You want to go for a walk?” He stuck out his elbow for me not giving me a chance to reply.

  We made our way out of the parking lot and down the sidewalk. We didn’t speak as we passed the rows of businesses on Main Street closed for the night. We took a right at the end of the street and headed in the direction of the lake. The stars shone down on us, everything still and at peace except for my heart thudding against my chest.

  “Frank didn’t tell you about me?” His words broke the stillness. “He loves to talk. He’s worse than a woman when it comes to gossip.”

  “He told me you were a football superstar. Oh, and that you helped try to get his son sober.”

  It felt good to have my arm laced with his.

  “Yeah, I tried. Poor Junior. He couldn’t ever get honest. He always kept parts about himself and his story hidden. I can’t blame him. I totally get it. It’s really hard to have the level of honesty this program requires if you want to stay sober and sane.”

  I was never going to have a problem staying sober. Unlike them, my sobriety was a given, but I worried about my sanity. My foundation was a house of cards built on sand and the slightest wind could send them tumbling again. I was afraid this time I wouldn’t come back from the darkness.

  “I’m never drinking again,” I said.

  Joe laughed. “That’s what we all say, but you’d be surprised. Staying sober is the hardest thing any of us have to do. It means facing every demon we’ve ran from.”

  “Like killing a woman?”

  I didn’t want him to forget why we’d gone on our walk.

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You know how they say some people peak in high school? Well, that was me. Frank was right about me being a small town kid who could play football. Those were the best days of my life. I had it all when I graduated from high school—a full scholarship to one of the most elite colleges in the country doing what I loved. But, I’d never been out of Triton except for tournaments. I wasn’t prepared for living outside of this place and being surrounded by other people who were just as successful as I was. I’d been this huge fish in a really small pond and suddenly I was thrust into the ocean. I felt like a minnow who didn’t know how to swim. So, I started drinking.”

  “A lot?”

  “Not right away. In the beginning, I only drank on the weekends. I had no idea how to meet people and felt like such a redneck. I talked like a redneck, dressed like a redneck, and definitely acted like one. Everyone looked at me like I was some kind of freak. All of my life I’d been the person other people were trying to be like and I didn’t know how to deal with being the odd man out. Thankfully, I had football or I would’ve been completely lost. Everyone on the team was invited to all the parties so I tagged along. All of my insecurities disappeared when I drank. Instead of being ashamed to be a redneck, I was proud of it. In fact, my nickname became Redneck. Did you go to college?”

  “I did.”

  “Where?”

  I didn’t want to lie but couldn’t tell the truth.

  “A small liberal arts college out West.” If he sensed I was intentionally being vague, he didn’t say anything about it. “What happened to you in college?”

  “I drank my way through and barely made it. It’s true what they say about athletes getting breaks. I should’ve failed, but coach made sure I didn’t. The administration is set up to push athletes through. I don’t even know how I made it through some of the practices. I was so hungover I’d throw up all the time, but it wasn’t unusual for players to barf because the coaches push you so hard in practice. They assumed I was puking from the workouts, but it was from the alcohol I was dumping into myself every day. Honestly, college is kind of a blur.” His eyes drifted, playing out private memories of those days. “I met a girl in my junior year. Maria. She was a cheerleader. Totally cliché, I know.”

  I smiled. “A bit.”

  “She was a good girl, though. A really good girl. She was the first one who said anything about my drinking. She was always trying to get me to quit, but I denied it was a problem. I told her it was just part of college life. I got drafted my senior year and she went with me to Philadelphia.” He kicked over a pile of brush blocking our way down the worn path leading to the frozen water’s edge. “That’s when things really got tough. Worse than when I went to college. Everyone expected all these great things from me, but I couldn’t deliver. I was in the NFL and floundering. I’d started every game I ever played and it was a huge blow to my ego when I didn’t start my rookie year. So stupid of me. My drinking got way out of hand. I had more money than I knew what to do with. I blew it on girls, fast cars, and cocaine.”

  “You are quite the cliché, aren’t you?”

  “Sadly, yes. I fulfilled every stereotype out there. Then, one night, Maria and I were driving home in the brand new Porsche I’d bought a few weeks earlier. We’d been at a party and I was totally wasted. We were fighting about something and I was speeding down the road while she screamed at me to slow down. The last thing I remember is rounding a corner on Bend’s pass and the next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital. I’d rolled my car over the cliff and totaled it. I broke my leg in three places.” He tapped his thigh. “See that—that’s a steel rod where my bone used to be.”

  “What happened to Maria?” I knew the answer, but had to hear him say it.

  “I killed her. She flew out the windshield and got wrapped around a tree. I’ll never forget what it felt like to wake up and know I’d killed the woman I loved.” His eyes filled with tears. I placed my hand on his back like he’d done to me in the parking lot. “I still see her face. She comes to me in my dreams …”

  We’d reached the edge of the water. My legs felt weak. I looked around, wishing there was somewhere to sit. The trail we’d taken ended at the water and there wasn’t anywhere else to go except back in the direction we’d come. We stood for a moment staring out onto the ice. The
moon cast eerie shadows on the snow. I shivered and rubbed my arms. Joe put his arm around me and squeezed. I stiffened instinctively with his touch. I stood there rigid.

  “You need to get a better coat if you’re going to survive winter here.” He dropped his arm and I breathed a sigh of relief. “Let’s get you back to your car before you freeze to death.”

  I shoved my hands deep into my pockets, bracing myself for the wind as we headed back toward our cars.

  “Is that why you got sober?” I asked.

  “Yes, that night was the last drink I’ve ever had. And I never played football again. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. My leg was destroyed. They charged me with vehicular manslaughter and I pleaded guilty. Didn’t even try to fight it. I did five years in the state penitentiary. The reason I came back to Triton was because it was the only place anyone would give me a job and I could have somewhat of a chance at starting over. Nobody else would have anything to do with me. Everyone here stills thinks of me as good ole’Joey, but really, I’m a murderer.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “You’re not a murderer. You made a mistake. You didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “I can’t think that way. I have to remember exactly who I am so I never forget what I’m capable of. I don’t give myself excuses. My actions killed another individual. Period. And that’s the definition of murder.”

  I jerked my hand away. “I’ve got to go. I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I’m so sorry.”

  I turned on my heels and ran, leaving him staring after me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I walked slowly up the driveway, taking in the neatly manicured lawn around me. His trailer sat at the end of the driveway—a doublewide with a wooden front porch. Two small steps led up to it with flower pots sprinkled on each one. I took a deep breath and knocked on the screen door. I heard footsteps and then Joe’s face. He opened the door, surprise written on his face.

  “Hey.”

  “Um, hi…. I’m sorry to just show up like this, but I had to.”

  I’d gotten up early in the morning and called Frank to get Joe’s address. As it turned out, he was my neighbor. He lived in the rows of trailer just past the rental cabins. All this time, we’d only been a few hundred feet apart.

  “Do you want to come in?” he asked. “I can make us some coffee.”

  “No, I’m fine. I just wanted to talk to you and apologize. I’m sorry I ran off on you last night.”

  He shrugged. “Believe me, you don’t have to apologize. I totally get it.”

  “No, it’s not that. Really it’s not. It wasn’t about you,” I said.

  He threw his head back and laughed. “That’s what all the girls say.”

  I punched him in his arm. “I’m trying to be serious.”

  “I am too.” He grinned.

  “You’re not making this very easy on me.”

  He crossed his arms across his chest. “All right, let me hear it.”

  “I really appreciate you being so honest with me. It’s weird to have people share their secrets like it’s nothing and your story made me think about some things about myself that I–”

  “What? You’re an ex-football player who killed your girlfriend too?”

  I laughed despite myself. “No. Not quite. It’s just that while you were talking it brought up all these memories about the people’s lives I’ve destroyed and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out of there. I’m sorry. It had nothing to do with you.”

  “Do you want to talk about it? I’m actually a pretty good listener despite the fact that I talk so damn much.” His smile was contagious and I found myself smiling back.

  “I don’t even know how to begin.”

  He grabbed his coat, opened the screen door, and stepped outside with me. He took a seat on the step and patted the spot next to him. “Come on, you know what they say—you’re only as sick as your secrets.”

  “I actually didn’t know that’s what they said. I’m new to all of this and you guys have a million sayings. It’s hard to keep up with them all.”

  They were always quoting one-liners in their meetings and had their own language devoted to them. Things like keep coming back, keep it simple, and turn it over. This was the first time I’d heard the secret one.

  “Believe me, before you know it, you’ll be rattling them off like nothing. How long have you been sober?”

  It didn’t feel right to lie to him after how honest he’d been with me.

  “I don’t think I’m an alcoholic, but I did something horrible when I was drunk.”

  “How often do you get drunk?” he asked.

  “You’re not going to believe this, but I’ve only been drunk maybe five times in my entire life and the times I got drunk weren’t on purpose. I actually hate being drunk.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. You know how you guys are always laughing about what you call normies? I think I’m one of them. I’m the person you make fun of who pushes drinks away whenever they start to feel it. I hate feeling out of control more than anything else in the world.”

  His head was cocked to the side, studying me. I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. Everyone in AA talked about how they lied while they were drinking and denied how much they drank. I didn’t care if he believed me because I was telling the truth. I was releasing some of the poisonous venom I’d been holding in my soul. As painful as the initial poke was, I felt the sweet discharge of its ooze.

  “I did a terrible thing a long time ago. I never told anyone. Not my husband. Not my best friend. Nobody. I kept it a secret. I kept it hidden for so long I almost convinced myself it never happened.”

  “Funny how we can trick ourselves into believing our own lies, huh?”

  I nodded. “After a while, I thought about it less and less. I tried to go on with my life and for the most part I did. Up until last year. Then, it all fell apart.” I struggled to find the words to articulate what happened to me. “It was awful. Really awful. I was in more pain than I’ve ever been in. It was the first time I intentionally went out to get drunk. I needed something to take away the pain. I just didn’t want to feel anything. So, I did it. I got a bottle and drank myself into oblivion. But sometime during it, I completely lost control.”

  “Is that how you ended up here? You ran away?”

  “Is it obvious?” I asked.

  “The only thing obvious is that you’re not from here. Everyone knows everyone. I’d remember you if you’d grown up around here. I’d certainly never forget that face.” He looked me in the eyes.

  Was he flirting with me? He couldn’t be flirting with me. I shifted my eyes away from his gaze.

  “Where are you from?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Christ, you act like you’re running from the law. Are you a felon?” He burst out laughing.

  My lips didn’t move. I sat like a statute as still as the lawn ornaments surrounding us.

  His laughter stopped abruptly when he noticed I wasn’t joining in. “This really is serious, isn’t it? Are you running from someone?”

  “I can’t talk about it. Not yet. I’m not ready.”

  He put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”

  I could feel the heat from his fingertips on my shoulders burning into me and his lungs expanding with air. Did he feel it too? As much as I wanted him to, I wanted to be imagining it.

  “I have to go to work. I have a shift at one. Frank will have a fit if I’m not there.”

  “I have to go back to work too. You just happened to catch me on my lunch break.” He stood up, extending his hand to help me up from the step. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we have dinner tomorrow night? We can talk about things other than our depressing lives.”

  “Sure.” The answer was out of my mouth before I thought twice about it.

  “Where can I pick you up?” he asked.

  “Why
don’t I meet you here?”

  “Sure. Six? Will that work?”

  “Sounds good. See you then.” He moved a step closer to me and for a second I was afraid and excited that he was going to kiss me. Instead, he stuck out his hand. “Deal. Six, it is.”

  I shook his hand before leaving. As I walked to work, I replayed his words over in my mind—we’re only as sick as our secrets. I was tired of being sick. It was exhausting. My secrets had destroyed my life. They’d made me into a person I’d never wanted to be. A person I didn’t think I could be.

  I’d always been the golden child. I never strayed from what was expected of me. I hated making mistakes and getting into trouble. I’d watch Rachel in horror during her troubles and wonder how she could break the law so casually. During high school, my best friend liked to shoplift make-up and I had to quit hanging out with her because I was afraid I’d get in trouble just for being with her. I did the right thing in every situation. I never made mistakes on purpose. It wasn’t like I never screwed up, I just worked really hard at trying not to and then I made one mistake. I crossed over the line I said I’d never cross and got annihilated.

  It wasn’t fair. People cheated on their spouses all the time and got away with it. Lots of people weren’t even bothered by it. They separated love from sex. Robin knew plenty of people who had open marriages, but I couldn’t imagine it. I’d been a serial monogamist since I started dating in high school. I’d never veered until That Night. I was so sick of running from That Night, but I’d go to prison if I stopped. My mind swung like a pendulum. Could I survive in prison?

  Chapter Twenty

  It didn’t occur to me until I saw Joe walk out dressed in a collared shirt tucked into his pants that we were going on a date. The smell of Cool Water was stronger than it’d ever been. His long hair that usually hung in his face was covered in product, managing his curls tightly. His face was pristine and smooth from a fresh shave.