by Mary Smith
“What made you stop?” Caryn asks.
“I crashed my car around a telephone pole. My wife had already filed for divorce and moved out by then. I had lost my job and everything. But losing my wife was just the nail in my coffin to send me over the edge.”
“What happened that day to cause you to drink so much?”
“The sheriff came and foreclosed on my house.” Tears roll down his cheeks. “They wouldn’t even let me go into my baby’s room and take her bear.” He looks up at the ceiling and stared for a second. “I just kept drinking. Stayed up all night binging on any type of alcohol I could get my hands on, drove around until I hit the pole.”
“How long has it been since you drank?”
“Six years.”
“Six years is a long time. Besides the pain you’re feeling for your daughter, how are you handling your cravings?” Caryn’s tone is soft.
He shakes his head. “I try to remind myself I’m doing this for me and my loved ones. Mainly for me because I don’t like who I am when I’m drinking. Now, I have a great job, a girlfriend who truly loves me, and a future. It’s hard without my baby girl, but I’m dealing with it, one step at a time.”
There is a small, soft round of applause for Bob and Caryn glances at me. My heart is being ripped out by these stories, but it’s not me. I don’t have a problem. I don’t even leave my house when I’m drinking. I don’t have anyone to hurt.
The stories continued, one worse than the last, all tearing me apart. When the last man told his story, Caryn thanked everyone for coming and reminded them to call her if needed. The small crowd stood, a few shook hands, a couple smiled, all heading over to the coffee and doughnuts.
“Are you okay?” Caryn asks me softly as for others not to hear.
“Fine.”
She glares.
Sighing, I know she hates that word. “I’m sad, okay? Hearing those stories were difficult.”
“Do you understand why I brought you here?”
I shrugged. “Not really.” Actually, I know exactly why she brought me here.
“Bas, you know why I did and I hope it helps you.” She turns away from me and goes toward the men.
I stand back and watch them. All these men had something great. Family, children, jobs they loved, and it was all taken from them. They all discussed a rock bottom. I’ll never have that because there’s nothing wrong with me. I can handle what I drink. I know I can.
Can’t I?
Caryn drops me off in front of my apartment and I slowly go up the stairs. Once I know she’s out of sight, I go back outside and down the street to the liquor store. I buy my usual two bottles of vodka before going home.
I set the bottles on the kitchen counter and stare at them. I study the stunning labels of intricate designs, the flowing words, and clear liquid. The men’s words and stories are running circles around my head. I’m not them. I’m not going to be like them.
I can handle this.
I can control this.
Knock. Knock.
I shove the bottles into the nearest cabinet and toss the brown paper bag into the trash before opening the door. Beck.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Making sure you’re still alive.” He pushes his long hair behind his ears, but it just fell back around his head.
“I am. Goodbye.” I go to shut the door, but he stops it.
“I’d like you to go to dinner with me.” His tone is gruff, but it doesn’t intimidate me. I know I can kick his ass.
“I ate.” I lie as I try to shut the door again but he puts his hand against it.
“You’re such a shit. I know damn well you haven’t had anything to eat today. Now, let’s go.”
“Who the fuck are you commanding? Do I look like a fucking dog to you?” Rage begins to fill my veins, and I clench my fist around the doorknob.
“You look like you haven’t slept in ten years, honestly. Now, let’s go before I drag you to my fucking car.” He steps back.
I sigh. He’s as stubborn as I am and he’ll stand there all night if need be. I growl without saying anything and grab my keys off the small table next to the door.
Beck leads the way down the hall and out to the parking lot. Sitting in the front seat is Bax. Fuck, it’s a family reunion. I jerk open the back door and fall into the back seat.
“Hey, Bas.” Bax greets me. “Are you doing okay?”
“Fine.” I give a quick answer and hear Caryn’s voice chastising me in the back of my head.
Beck starts his car and silence fills the air as I watch Manchester pass me by as downtown comes into view. I don’t even ask where we’re going because truthfully, I don’t give one shit. I’m not going to eat. Hell, I don’t even know why I’m really here. I could have shut the door when he had stepped back.
Maybe I like the punishment?
The car stops at a small deli I’ve not been to but wanted to try. Not that I’ll tell them. We all get out. I should pull out my mobile to summon an Uber and run away back home. Damn, I sound like a miserable teenager, but it’s how I feel.
We walk in and Beck sits at a table near the middle of the eatery. I sit across from him and Bax is between us on my left. A bubbly waitress comes over and takes our drink orders first. I wish they served alcohol, but I know I can’t drink in front of them. My bodyguards. I keep my eyes fixated on the menu, but I don’t really look at anything. However, the smell of the delicious food makes my stomach growl. Maybe something small will be okay. The last time I really ate is when Erin brought food over.
The overly happy waitress comes bouncing back and takes our food order. I order a ham and cheese sub, which almost makes me drool. I want a drink.
No, you do not want a drink.
Right, I don’t need one. I can handle this.
“What have you been doing with yourself?” Bax questions me.
“Do you mean since you two got me kicked off the Bears?” I sneer.
“You’re not kicked off anything, ass.” Beck corrects me with the same tone I just used. “We want you to get well. Are you working on it?”
“Yes.” I scoff. “I’m being forced to go to a therapist and talk about my feelings,” I answer with a narrow glare. I wish I could kill with my looks.
Okay, it’s not true. I don’t wish my brothers dead. I already killed our parents, and it weighs enough on my soul. I don’t need anymore.
“Bas, that’s fucking outstanding.” Bax practically jumps out of his chair with excitement. “How’s it going? Is it going well? Is it helping?” He rattles the questions fast.
I put my hand up to shut him up. “I’m going, okay. But I don’t want to talk about it. Especially to you two.” I can feel the tightness in my jaw as I clench my teeth. There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell them a damn thing about what is discussed with Caryn.
“Bas, you might not want to talk about it, and that’s fine, but please know how proud we are of you.” Bax smiles at me.
I don’t respond because there’s no point. Bax has always been the one to look on the bright side of every angle and sees the good in everyone. Even when there is none. I admire this quality because it’s something I don’t have. Sure, there are good people in the world. Erin is good. She’s probably the best person I know, and I treat her like shit. I know I’m the worst person in the world.
Beck begins talking about football, and I truly could care less. I know he’s changing the topic because he doesn’t want to talk about me. Hell, I don’t want to talk about me either. Beck keeps the attention on him until the waitress brings the food. Bax then moves onto baseball. I enjoyed playing as a kid. Our father loved American sports, which is the reason why we played so much. I had been proud of their accomplishments, but they need to stay the fuck out of mine.
“Bas? Bas?” Bax touches his shoulder.
“What?” I snap.
“Are you going to eat?”
“Huh?” I glance down and see an untouched plate
of food. “No I’m not hungry.” I push it away. I catch the roll of Beck’s eyes. I know he’s annoyed with me, but I ignore him. “I’m ready to go home.” I stand and pull some cash from my pocket. “Thanks,” I mutter and head toward the door.
“Bas, wait.” Bax chases after me, but I walk faster. “Come on, bro.”
I continue to pretend I don’t know who the hell he is as I reach outside and head toward the corner.
“Stop being a wanker.” He jerks on my arm, and I pull it away from him.
“I’m not. I don’t need your pity.”
“There’s no pity. We just want to check on you and see how you are doing.” He pleads.
I keep my back to him, pull out my mobile and summon an Uber.
“Bas, we love you.”
I scoff. “Yeah right.”
“You need to believe it because it’s true.” Bax raises his voice.
My Uber driver must have been a former Formula One driver because he pulls up to the curb in a flash. I jump in, not looking back at Bax and tell the driver to take off. I watch the scenery zoom past me and all I can think about is my dream. The one where Mum came to me. I know she’s disappointed in me and there’s no way I can change it.
Chapter Six
Erin
Whenever I finish a project, I usually order takeout, veg on the couch and hope another idea hits me before my savings dries up. Never have I been flown to Boston in a private jet, sat in a super-duper fancy restaurant—that doesn’t even have prices on the menus—or sat across from men who practically own the country.
“Victoria, what is the bug report?” Mr. I-Have-More-Money-Than-God asks.
Victoria leans back and eyes him. “I emailed it to you. Did you not read it?”
“I want to hear it from you.” He counters.
Victoria goes into detail regarding the bug report. There were a few things we had to fix when it came back from the betas but nothing we couldn’t handle. For the past week, she and I have spent morning, noon, and night together getting everything ready for this meeting.
I pick up my fork and move around the salad leaves, which cost over a hundred dollars, I think, and hope to remain invisible during this meeting. I know nothing about selling an app. Sure I can fix them and create them but there isn’t a salesperson bone in my body. If they ask me anything, I’d shove the tablet into his hand and tell him to try it himself.
“Satisfied?” Victoria crosses her arms and glares at the man.
This is a whole other side of her I hadn’t seen yet. She’s also calm, docile, and focused. Right now, she reminds me of an alley cat. Scrappy, sharp, and unintimidated. Now, I know how she made all her money. She brought out the claws.
“We agreed on a price, Donald.” Her tone is firm.
The older man with gray thinning hair glares at her. Neither of them blink. I hold my fork tightly in my hand as the tension builds around the table.
“Don, it’s a good deal,” Mr. I-Own-An-Island says. He’s a little younger than Mr. I-Have-More-Money-Than-God.
“Fine.” He raises one hand. “You win, Victoria. I will have my lawyers draw up the paperwork, and I’ll send over a check for thirty million dollars once the ink is dried. Deal?”
All the air leaves the room. Thirty million dollars? Are my ears working correctly? No, they couldn’t have heard it right?
“Deal.” Victoria holds out her hand to shake on the deal. “Now, if you don’t mind, my partner and I have another meeting to attend.”
As she stands, I follow her lead, like a puppy following her mother, out of the restaurant and into the waiting Town Car. “Take us to South Street Diner.” Victoria tells the driver, then turns and smiles at me. “I hate that overpriced, small portion food. We need to celebrate with real, greasy unhealthy food. Hey.” Her expression fades. “Are you okay?”
“What the hell just happened?” I finally manage to find air.
“We sold our app.” She sounds unsure as if that’s not what happened.
“For thirty million dollars.” I exclaim. “Do you know how much that is?”
“I do. Do you?”
“No.” I shout. “Because it’s an insane amount of money.”
“True, but it’s what our asking price was and I knew Donald would pay it.” Her smile returns. “I thought you would be happy. You do remember your cut, right?”
Reality hits me. “Shit.” My cut is fifteen percent. “That’s…that’s…” Four point five million dollars. “Holy shit.” All the air is gone again. I can’t breathe. This is insane. What the hell am I going to do with all that money? Oh my God, I’m going to have to get a real accountant. I won’t be able to use my Turbo Tax anymore. How will the money be delivered? Surely, not cash, because how much would that weigh? Damn, I’ve never seen that much money in my life, let alone had it to call my own.
“Erin, you look as if you’re going to pass out. Talk to me. Do you want to go to the hospital?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s all hitting me right now.” I confess.
“Hey.” She takes my hand in hers. “I promise this is a good thing. Yes, it’s a lot of money but think of it the way I did when I received my first million.”
“How’s that?”
“I can help more people.” Her eyes become glassy with tears. “I knew my sisters would be taken care of and that’s all that mattered to me.”
She’s right. I’ll probably never have another opportunity like this again. Especially with this much cash at the end of a job. However, now I can be choosier with jobs and work on more of my own projects but never had the time.
“You’re right. Let’s celebrate.” I smile at her.
Spending the night in Boston with Victoria was the most fun I had in a long time. Maybe my life. We ate burgers, fries, and had the most delicious milkshakes ever. Afterward, we went to a movie theater showing Dirty Dancing, which I believe is the best love story ever. Then we went back to the hotel, where I slept on a cloud of a bed and didn’t want to wake up.
Now, Victoria’s driver is dropping me off at my apartment. My life has changed tremendously in the past twenty-four hours. I’m not sure which side is up. As I unlock my door and drop my luggage inside my apartment, I hear Bas’ TV from across the hall. We’ve not really talked, and I can’t help but miss him. He is my friend. I shut my door and knock on his. I silently pray he isn’t drunk, but that’s going to be an unanswered prayer for sure.
“Hey,” he says with a grin as he opens the door.
“Hi.” He isn’t drunk?
“How are you? I knocked on your door earlier, but I figured you were working or out or whatever.” He sounds nervous.
“I was in Boston. I just got back.”
“Why don’t you come in and we can chat?”
Chat? Did he say chat? “Um…sure.” I hold my breath waiting for the foul smell of his apartment to burn my nostrils. But it’s fairly clean. There are only three bottles of vodka on the coffee table.
“I had dinner with my brothers.” He pointed to the empty bottles.
“You just drank with them?” I got the impression his brothers didn’t drink. Maybe I’m wrong.
“No, we went out, but they ended up pissing me off and this is the result.” He flops down on the couch.
“All three of them?” I’ve seen him drink one but never three.
“Just this one.” He nods to the one nearest to him. “What were you doing in Boston?”
“Working with Victoria.” I know Bas has his own money and plenty of it, but I already made the decision to keep my newest conquest private. Well, except for the IRS and the government.
“Everything good?” He inquires.
“Yes.” I nod. “So, what happened with your brothers?” I know he changed the topic back to me because he didn’t want to talk about it. Even though I shouldn’t push, I will.
“They’re just being…brothers. I guess.” He shrugs. “Are you thirsty?”
“I’m fine. T
hanks.” I glance around the apartment. I really want to ask him about his therapy, but I refrain. He’s a closed-off person and I know it. Although I do like to push him a bit. “I’m going to head back over.” I turn, heading for the door.
“I’m sorry.” He shouts at me.
I spin back around to face him. “Huh?”
“I’m sorry. You know…for being mean to you and stuff.” He pushes his hand through his hair.
“Why are you apologizing?” Occasionally, I can get one or even two out of him, but it’s rare.
“I had an interesting day today. Maybe some would call it an epiphany, but I know I’m a shit to you and I’m…sorry.”
My interest is piqued and I take a seat on his couch. “What happened?”
“Caryn took me on a field trip.” He states.
“A field trip?” Where in the world would his therapist take him? “Where to?”
“Truthfully.” He sighs. “An AA meeting.”
My mouth drops. I don’t mean for it to, it does on its own. I’m in shock he even stepped foot into an AA meeting. Did he say anything there? Did he finally realize he’s an alcoholic? Obviously not since I’m staring at empty bottles of vodka on his table. “What happened?”
“I just listened to a few guys’ messed up lives.”
I roll my eyes. Of course, he doesn’t see the purpose of him going to the meeting. “Guess you didn’t learn anything, huh?” I smart off.
“No, I did.” He glances down at his interlaced fingers. “I just know I can handle it on my own.”
I jump to my feet, fed up listening to his shit. “No. No you cannot handle this or anything else on your own. And if you think you can, then you’re a fucking idiot.” I storm off to the door, but before I open it, I spin around and point my finger at him. “I have picked you up off this floor. I have cleaned up your vomit. I have called your friends for help. I’ve seen it all. You, Bas Zorn, have a handle on shit. You’re a drunk, and I hope someday you can admit it and get the help you need.” I jerk the door open and slam it shut with all my might. I can’t stand to look at him for another second.