by Gail Sattler
Mike watched Patty, busily typing up the church’s Sunday bulletin. She was just as focused at work as she had been at the AA meeting. While at work, all her concentration focused on the papers in front of her. She occasionally glanced up at the computer screen as she typed. Not once did she look at him, as much as he wanted her to.
Mike leaned back, resting his elbows on the top of the filing cabinet. “I’m all done. Got any more urgent and critical tasks for me? Pencils to sharpen? Paper clips to sort?”
She stopped typing and straightened the stack of papers in front of her. “Everything I’ve given you needed to be done. All jobs, however insignificant they appear, are important.”
Mike snorted. “Spare me. I don’t give the kids fresh out of school the menial junk you’ve dumped on me.”
She folded her hands and rested them on the base of her keyboard. “Have you always had such a bad attitude?”
“I don’t have a bad attitude. You’re just bossy.”
“I’m not bossy. I’m an efficient adjudicator.”
“You’re bossy, and you’re enjoying it too.”
“I didn’t give you anything I wasn’t prepared to do myself. But now all I’ve got left is the bulletin, which you can’t do.” She tilted her mouth and closed one eye, no doubt thinking of some other meaningless task to keep him occupied. Part of him was amused at her attempts to keep him busy, but something deep inside appreciated what she was trying to do, as much as he hated to admit it.
He actually found it funny that it was so easy to figure out what she was trying to do. The woman was transparent. Every emotion and every thought was written on her face. He would bet she never played Poker, because if she did, she would be lousy at it.
“I really don’t have any other work you can do, so I’m going to give you something else.” She opened her drawer and pulled out a Bible.
Mike cringed.
She flipped it open about three-quarters of the way through and handed it to him. “I want you to start reading. This is the book of Matthew, the start of the New Testament. Start at verse eighteen. Do you have a Bible at home?”
“I said I’d been to church before. I didn’t say I was a Bible scholar.”
“You don’t have to be a Bible scholar to read it. Besides, Bruce told me that the AA program is based on biblical principles, so, therefore, you should know something about the Bible. And that can only happen by reading it.”
“I don’t believe this,” he grumbled.
At her answering scowl, he broke out into a wide grin and held the Bible to his heart. “But for you, I’d do anything.”
Patty rolled her eyes. “Give it a rest. This, you don’t do for me. You do it for yourself. Now sit down and start reading. I have work to do.”
Chapter 3
This wasn’t what I meant when I suggested dinner.”
Patricia fluttered her eyelashes and smiled sweetly. “But I love this place.”
She tried not to laugh at his answering scowl. She knew he wanted to go someplace that would have been suitable for a date, so she picked the place that was the furthest extreme from date-worthy she could think of. Sir Henry’s Fish and Chip Palace fit the bill perfectly. “I can’t remember the last time I had fish and chips.” Sir Henry’s was less a restaurant and more a combination of take-out and a glorified lunch counter. Most importantly, they didn’t serve alcohol.
“There are only four tables and a counter. They don’t even have menus. This place is a hole in the wall.”
“I like to think of it as cozy.”
He grumbled something she couldn’t quite make out, which was probably for the best.
“Quit complaining, and let’s order. We don’t have much time.”
They looked up at the menu board, told Henry what they wanted, and sat at a table after Mike insisted on paying, which she knew he would. It was another reason she’d picked Sir Henry’s. The food was cheap.
“When Henry calls our number, we’re supposed to go pick it up, but he’ll probably bring it to our table.”
Mike harumphed. “Call our number? We’re the only ones in here!”
“Shhhh! Not so loud! Their main business is take-out, but we don’t have time to sit in the lineup at the drive-thru today. You must admit the place has character.”
Faded red-and-white-checkered curtains hung cafe-style on tarnished brass rods with huge ornate ends, making her think they were the same ones Henry had up in 1973 when he opened the place. The marred tabletops were stained, but always clean, likewise the old wooden chairs, most of which sported different fabrics of different generations on the padded seats. What the place lacked in furniture, it made up for in photographs. Every space on the wall held a framed photograph either depicting the restaurant over the years, such as a faded blown-up shot of Henry’s opening day, or some part of Jolly Ol’ England, which had been snapped by Henry himself or sent to him by a relative still living there.
Mike rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Right. Character.”
Since the place was small, they heard the sizzle of the deep fryer. She didn’t normally eat such greasy fare, but she made the exception for Sir Henry’s, since the food was so good. “You’re really going to enjoy this. I promise.”
His scowl turned into a smile. “You know, for some reason, I believe you. I don’t know why, but I do.”
Patricia chose to accept his comment as a compliment, whether or not that was how it was meant. She smiled, rested her elbows on the table, and said nothing.
Mike studied a photograph of Big Ben, then folded his hands on the table and turned to her. “Before we go any further, I want to apologize. I’m not usually such miserable company. I don’t know what’s come over me. I can only use the excuse that I’m still trying to sort out what’s happened, and I haven’t been myself lately. I don’t know why I’m talking to you like this. You seem to bring it out in me.”
“Honesty is always the best policy.”
He shook his head. “Not if I’m trying to impress you.”
“You’re not supposed to be trying to impress me. You’re supposed to be working your way through this and straightening out your life. I can only imagine how difficult this has been for you.” She also suspected it was going to get harder before it got better, as that was usually the case when someone started working through such a long-term problem, especially when there was an addiction or compulsive behavior involved. “Besides, your charm is lost on me. I want you to work on whatever it takes to clean yourself up and move forward with your life. All I want to be is friends.”
When their dinner was ready, Henry couldn’t leave the long line-up of cars at the drive-thru window, so Mike picked up their order at the counter when Henry called out their number. Mike both grumbled and joked at the same time about their still being the only ones inside as he placed the tray on the table, which Patricia thought quite endearing. In a way she couldn’t quite figure out, he had a charm about him that naturally made people gravitate toward him. Fortunately, she was immune.
She bowed her head and folded her hands on the table, and Mike followed her lead, waiting as she prepared herself to pray.
“Thank You, Father God, for this day of new beginnings and for Your wisdom as You guide us through the path You’ve laid out before us. Thank You, also, for this food and for new friends to share it with. Amen.”
“Amen,” Mike mumbled.
He didn’t complain about her praying in a public restaurant, which would have probably been more public if they weren’t the only people there besides the owner. Still, Patricia chose to interpret his acquiescence to her prayers as encouraging.
Mike took his first bite cautiously, paused, then smiled. “As much as I hate to admit it, this is pretty good.”
Patricia smiled back and agreed. Throughout dinner, Mike playfully complained about everything around them, but she noticed he ate every morsel in front of him.
When she was done, she dropped her napkin on top of what she
couldn’t finish. “I’m stuffed. We’d better go.”
Mike checked his watch. “Yes. I don’t want to walk in at the last minute again.”
On the drive to the meeting, Mike compared what he saw as every shortcoming of Sir Henry’s with the finer points of the restaurant he had wanted to take her to. He also made it plain that dinner tonight would have been a date, which was exactly what Patricia wanted to avoid.
Even though she didn’t know him very well, she easily figured out that Mike used his natural charm to his advantage. It wasn’t hard to see that he knew women in general were attracted to him. She also had no doubt he’d used the same technique to get himself out of trouble. Often.
It made Patricia very much aware of the sheltered life she’d led. Sometimes she appreciated it, sometimes she didn’t. In times like this, she did. She knew that men like Mike left trails of heartache in their wake, and she had been spared from the experience so far. At thirty, she had dated before but never had what she would call a serious relationship. She had carefully dated only well-grounded Christian men—never bad-boy types like Mike.
The downside of her love life was that, even though it was unintentional, most men had been intimidated by her father, many having future dreams of ministry themselves. While naturally she could share in their excitement, she often felt used, or set on a pedestal as her father’s daughter, neither of which she wanted out of the man who would one day be her husband.
This meeting was also in a church building. Just as they turned into the parking lot, Mike spoke up.
“You know, I really don’t know anything about you, other than you work at your church. I guess you also attend there, and stuff.”
Patricia smiled. “All my life, except when I went to Bible college.”
“Bible college, huh? I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. Do you live close to the church too?”
“Yes, I do. But not close enough to walk. If you’re wondering why I had my car.”
“No, not at all. Just wondering, that’s all. The first time I talked to you, you were at Bruce’s house.”
She couldn’t imagine why where she lived would concern him. “I was just borrowing his computer that night because I don’t have a scanner. I’m not there often. Come on, we should go in.”
“How exactly did you know about this meeting? Did you talk to Bruce? Is he putting a note in my file that I’m here?”
“No, I haven’t spoken to Bruce. If you want to tell him, fine, I can vouch for you. Claude told me about this last night in the donut shop parking lot.”
Mike’s step faltered. “Claude? Do you know him? Does he go to your church or something?”
Patricia shook her head as Mike caught up, and they entered the building together. “Nope. Never met him before last night. I thought you knew him.”
It was Mike’s turn to shake his head. “I only met him at my first meeting. He slipped me a note with a Bible verse on it. I guess there must be quite a few Christians in the program.”
“That’s what Bruce says.”
Sure enough, they hadn’t been in the meeting room long when Claude appeared. Without being prompted, he sat beside Mike, and the meeting began.
As happened at the previous meeting, Patricia listened to everyone share their stories. A couple of people went quite in-depth with personal testimonies, but most of them only grazed the surface of their own stories while they shared words of wisdom with the group. One man in particular had the entire crowd in stitches. His delivery was hilarious, but his real message wasn’t funny at all. Despite what had happened in his life, this man named Gerry had a wonderful attitude, and she wondered if Mike would be able to look back on his life some day and be able to laugh like that at the stupid things he’d done.
At the close of the meeting, they remained seated.
Claude slid his chair so it was turned toward both of them. “In a few weeks, it’s going to be my seven-year cake, and this is my home group. I would be honored if both of you would be here to share it with me. I’d also like you to meet my wife, Michelle. She’s going to be here for the occasion. The only times she comes to meetings is when it’s an anniversary cake for me.”
Before she had time to think about it, Mike pumped Claude’s hand. “We’d love to come, and we’re honored to be asked. Right, Patty?”
Patricia hadn’t realized people would automatically consider them a couple, yet that was exactly what happened. She wondered how she could let Claude know they weren’t as together as they appeared. “Uh … of course … we’d be delighted.”
Claude beamed. “Great! I’ll look forward to seeing you there.”
Mike didn’t smile. “Today I’d swear that some of the thoughts and feelings of some of the people who got up to speak were taken right out of my own head. I’ve got to ask, if you don’t mind telling me, once you went to your first meeting, did you go back and drink for awhile?”
“No, I didn’t. Since I went to my first meeting, I haven’t touched a drop of liquor.”
“Not a single drink? Never? How did you do it?”
“The first thing I did was get rid of all the booze. All of it. Even when Michelle and I got back together, nothing was saved. Not even for when company came over. No liquor in the house, not even for holidays, or any day, after that. Even the bottle of wine Michelle kept for cooking. Everything I had from the liquor cabinet, and especially my secret stash. It all had to go. I knew I had to avoid temptation. Have you done that yet, Mike?”
Mike was silent too long, which gave away his answer. Also, Patricia recalled when he showed up at the church, Mike had commented that it was either that or go home and start drinking, which doubly confirmed her suspicions. He did have liquor still in the house. Patricia poked him in the ribs with her index finger. “He’s going to do that tonight, aren’t you, Mike?”
“I … but …”
“Aren’t you, Mike?” she asked again.
Mike cleared his throat and stiffened in his chair. “Yes. Of course.”
Having received the answer she needed, she turned back to Claude. “What else helped you as you straightened yourself out?” She wanted to ask him exactly when he turned his life over to Christ, but didn’t want to further intimidate Mike, who was being uncharacteristically quiet and pensive.
“After I got rid of all the booze, I joined a twelve-step group.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a twelve-week study on the twelve steps of AA. Every week the group discusses one step, and we all work at applying it to our lives.”
Patricia nodded. “Bruce told me a little about that. He said they are all based on Biblical principles.”
“Yes. I have quite a few Scripture references in my notes. I’ve already volunteered to lead the next program. I highly recommend that you do it, Mike. Actually, a few other new members are also interested. So if you want to do it, we can get a group started next week. But you can only do this if you’re serious about turning your life around. It will only work for you when you’re prepared to really apply yourself. Are you ready?”
Patricia turned to look at Mike. He sat silent in his chair, and his eyes flitted around the room, taking in the people who had shared their testimonies. His gaze stopped on one man in particular, whom it was obvious had been drinking before he arrived.
After awhile Mike cleared his throat. “Yes. I’m ready.”
Claude stood, so Patricia stood also, and then Mike.
“Great,” Claude said. “Give me your phone number, and I’ll start arranging a time and meeting place, and I’ll get back to you. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go. I have a date with my wife tonight.”
Claude grinned and left.
Mike sat in silence the entire drive home, staring out the window.
There had been a man, drunk, at the meeting. He’d never seen anything more pathetic in his life. Going drunk to an AA meeting was like … swearing in church or something. It wasn’t right.
When he
was on his way home after getting fired, he felt like someone was telling him to go see Patty. It was so clear it was almost audible. He’d listened because he knew if he didn’t, he was going to start drinking the minute he arrived home. It wouldn’t have been long after that, considering the state of mind he was in, he would soon have been too drunk to even stand. Then, knowing his luck lately, Patty would have shown up and dragged him to a meeting, and he wouldn’t have fought her.
He would have been just like that drunk at an AA meeting. Pathetic. A loser.
When his father told him that his services were no longer required, the only thing on his mind was going home and drinking himself into oblivion. It had been the first and foremost thing on his mind, until he convinced himself to go see Patty.
He tried to figure out when getting the next drink had become the most important thing in his life.
He couldn’t.
He really was an alcoholic.
They stopped in front of his house, so he pushed the car door open and turned around. “Thanks for the ride, Patty, I … Where are you going?”
She exited the car and closed the door behind her, so Mike did the same.
“We’re going to dump all the booze in your house.”
“We?”
“Yup.”
Mike didn’t move from beside the car, but Patty walked to his front door and waited.
He couldn’t remember ever meeting someone so pushy. Only this time, they were on his turf, not hers. He was supposed to be the one giving the orders.
She crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Are you coming or not?”
He shrugged his shoulders and started walking. He felt numb from his new revelation and probably needed someone to point him in the right direction for a little while, and Patty seemed just the right person to do it. Not wanting to look like he was giving in too easily, he squared his shoulders and forced himself to grin. “Do I have a choice?”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
He unlocked the door and punched in the code for his alarm, then hung her jacket in the closet. “Welcome to my humble home.”