by Lila Felix
Didn’t matter. He’d seen me buy my liquor there. Didn’t take a genius to know what I was from a mile away.
I couldn’t say for sure that I hadn’t stumbled in there drunk in the first place.
He’d even turned me down a couple of times.
I was in my own head when the name saying came full circle. I thought it was an idiot thing to do, but when the crying lady next to me jabbed my shoulder, I figured I’d better ante up.
Except when I stood, nothing came out.
Nothing.
I opened my mouth. No one rushed me. It seemed that maybe this was a regular occurrence.
As I rocked back and forth on my heels, barely sustaining my balance enough not to fall down, I realized this is why they did it.
Because admitting who you are is part of the process.
Yes, I had come to terms with it under Molly’s pressure, but this was me, volunteering information about who I was and the sins I had buried in my chest to perfect strangers, and in the case of Sam, to people who had probably seen me at my worst.
Good thing I had an alcohol memory.
“I’m…I’m Lars…”
The boom of “Hi, Lars” was almost deafening in this little town church room, even with a few people.
Maybe my ears were just sensitive.
Maybe it had been that long since my name was called.
Maybe it had been that long since I’d said my own name out loud–owned my given name.
Now came the hard part.
“I’ve been sober for six days, maybe seven. It’s hard to keep track. It still feels like the first day though. I want a drink every second of every minute. It’s like a toothache.”
I sat down, thoroughly humiliated that I’d divulged so much information.
“Lars, it’s good to have you, now, let’s get down to business.”
There was more soul spilling and praying and steps to take, but I couldn’t hate on them, they were like me but in the future.
It gave me hope.
“Lars, I’m Sam. Do you remember me?”
He was your classic small-town grocer. Short cut hair, mustache for days. I fully expected him to be wearing a striped shirt and an apron.
“I do.” We shook hands, and I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I shook someone else’s hand.
“I was glad to see you here. And don’t worry, what happens at AA stays at AA. Kind of like Vegas.”
I gave him an obligatory chuckle.
“Yeah, I guess I’m glad to be here. If you had asked me from shutting the car door to the chair, things would’ve been different.”
“Hey, you’re here and that’s the main thing.”
“That’s true.”
He took a stale cookie from the pile and then groaned at the taste. “If you ever need anything, let me know.”
Sometimes things come out of my mouth and I don’t know why. This was one of those times.
“You got any part-time work for a drunk Veteran?”
It sounded harsh, and Sam cringed at my candor.
“I can make a part-time position for a brother who needs it. How about we start slow? Stocking for two hours a day, a few days a week, and work up from there?”
I thought about it. Hopefully, I would be able to keep my stuff together for two hours a day.
I could. I could do that.
“Yeah, Sam, I can do that. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem, Lars. We’re all looking out for you–always have been.”
I didn’t know what that meant but the crying woman was already talking to him so I walked away.
And back to Molly.
I got in the car. She didn’t ask me anything. She didn’t even ask if I went in. For all she knew, I could’ve gone into the church and sat in a stall in the bathroom the entire time.
She didn’t care after all.
I was just a canker sore to her.
Something to get rid of and go on about her life.
My head was fuzzy.
“You wanna drive around a bit? I don’t feel like going back to that apartment just yet.”
“Sure. That sounds good. I need some fresh air.”
We drove around for about two hours with the windows down. Her shoes were off and so were mine. We stopped for milkshakes but she hadn’t touched hers yet.
Milkshakes were her favorite. Any flavor. Any time.
She stopped, threw the car into park and stared out the window beyond my head.
“What are you looking at?”
I didn’t have to ask her again and she didn’t have to answer. We both knew exactly what we were looking at.
Our old house.
“Were you happy here? Even for a little while?” Again, my mouth was a traitor.
“Of course. I was happy here for most of the time.”
That only brought about more questions in my mind.
“Weren’t you happy with me?”
This non-drinking crap was making me sappy. I drank to avoid sappiness.
She looked at me. I could feel it but I didn’t meet her gaze. “Of course I was. I love…I loved you, Lars. Since the first day we met.”
“You mean the day I bought you a snowball,” I replied.
She laughed but it was hollow. “Yeah, wedding cake flavored. I thought it was a sign.”
I smiled, but it faded quickly, just like us.
“What happened, Molly? What happened to you and me and everything we planned? When did I lose you?”
She breathed out a sigh laced with heaviness. It was obviously something she didn’t plan on talking about tonight, but like the AA meeting, sometimes we didn’t plan these things.
Plus, if she didn’t want to talk about it, maybe she shouldn’t have pulled up in front of our old house.
“Do you remember when you were stationed in Germany and I told you I wasn’t feeling well? It was about three months before you were deployed. You got excited because you thought I was pregnant but then we did the math and there was no way. Do you remember that?”
I did. She was having some pains but later chalked it up to menstrual cramps or something.
“I remember.”
“It…” She laughed but I didn’t find anything funny. “It’s hard to say this. I’ve been keeping it from you for so long. It was cancer, Lars. I had uterine cancer. It was stage three and short of a hysterectomy, there was nothing anyone could do.”
I wished the world would open up and swallow me in that moment. I was in Germany, drinking way too many steins of beer, waiting for news from two places: my superior officers and my wife. And the latter of the two was going through something life-shattering.
I was an idiot.
But she was an idiot for not telling me.
“Why didn’t you tell me. I would’ve come home. They would’ve given me a leave. You were my wife, Molly. I would’ve taken care of you. I love you.” There was a D missing in that sentence, or maybe there wasn’t. I was full of rage thinking about how blind I had been. My voice rose with every word until I was screaming at her.
“I know you would’ve. That was the problem. You were so passionate about two things other than me when we first got married. You remember what those two things were?”
“Having a family with you and my career.”
“Exactly. I knew that. I saw the joy in your face when you held your nieces and nephews. I knew you had come from a big family and wanted to have an even bigger one. Plus, going on leave would’ve delayed your career plans. It would’ve ruined your dreams, Lars. I would’ve ruined your dreams.”
She was wrong. She was my dream.
There was no big family or even the dream of one if it didn’t include her.
She was the breath in my lungs and the bubble that included those dreams. Without her, it all just popped and fizzled to nothing.
And also…how dare she make that decision alone.
“The day they told me I had to have a full hysterec
tomy is the day I filed for divorce. I had the surgery three days after you were deployed to Afghanistan. Your mom took care of me in the hospital. I sold the house and moved away shortly after that. That way you could…you were free to have those dreams with someone else.”
“Just go, Molly. Get me away from here before I say something I…no, you know what? At this point, I would mean every word of it. Just go.”
I didn’t speak to her the whole way home, and I thought I probably damaged her car door while getting out with the force of shutting it.
There was only one thing I thought about at that moment.
It was a thought that I knew, in the back of my mind would be erased with one drink.
Just one drink and she was driving me to it.
How dare she?
Chapter Eleven
Molly
I SHOULDN’T HAVE told him. My instinct was to keep my mouth shut but sitting in front of our house together the memories were too happy. I remembered the meals I cooked, the furniture we picked out, the flowers I planted.
I woke up earlier than I usually do because my fever was back. I went into the bathroom and took all my morning pills. The doctors promised me taking these chemo pills would put me in remission, but I was beginning to wonder if it was all a lie.
I laid on the cool tile floor and prayed. I prayed this would stop. I didn’t know if I had the strength to fight it again. It was almost as if I could feel it spreading through me again. Cancer had taken my dad many years ago, and I didn’t want to suffer this way. Then again, I had no choice in the matter. It was coming back, and I knew it.
I threw up, and I began to shake harder. This was going to be bad. I could feel it in my bones. The cancer had come back, and it was going to be rougher than before. I didn’t know what to do? My body shook harder, and I couldn’t lift my head. I was in trouble.
“Lars.” I groaned. It hurt to talk. “Lars.” I made myself say his name louder through the pain.
“Molly?” There was concern in his tone. “Where are you?”
“Help. Help.” I kept saying it over and over until he pushed open the bathroom door.
“Oh my God, Molly.” He leaned down to me.
“Hospital. Hurry.”
It was the last thing I remembered before blacking out.
I FELT SOMEONE brushing my hair. I loved when someone played with my hair. It was calming and relaxing. My throat still hurts and my head was pounding. I opened my eyes and saw Lars’ brown eyes looking back at me. He was stressed. It was clearly written all over his face. He looked older than his thirty-two years of age.
“Hi.” He tried to smile but failed.
“Hi,” I managed to say. “Where are we?” I wanted to look around but every muscle hurt.
“At the hospital. It was where you told me to go.”
“Okay.” I closed my eyes again, but I was exhausted. “It’s back.”
“What?”
“The cancer is back. I thought the pills were going to help, but it’s clear they didn’t work one bit.” Tears began to roll down my cheeks.
“How do you know?”
“It was just like before. The fever. The shakes. The pain. It’s just like last time, and I don’t know if I can deal with it this time.”
“I’m here.” He squeezed my hand. “I’ll help you this time.”
“You can’t.” I opened my eyes. “You have to work on you and find someone else. You want a family, remember?”
He sighed and looked away from me. “Why do you do this?”
“Do what?”
“Why do you push people away? Why do you push me away?” He turned back and he was mad.
“You need to worry about your well-being.”
“I can do both.” He stood up and began to pace. “You shut me out before without giving me a choice, but I’m here now. I can make my own decisions.”
“Can you?”
He stopped pacing and glared at me. “What are you implying? Are you saying I’m too irresponsible to take care of you?”
“No. But you have to get yourself well and move on. I know you want to be married and have a family. You most certainly can’t do that with me. Don’t you understand?”
He took a few steps back as if I’d hit him. “How can you be so smart and so dense at the same time?”
“I’m helping you.”
“No!” He shouted but shut his mouth quickly realizing he was in a hospital. “You’re not helping anyone but yourself. You want to be a martyr, is that it? You want to cut your own nose off to spite your face.” He held his arms out. “Because here I stand. I might not be the best to express every feeling I have, but you know how much I love you. You can’t even see it because you keep yourself at a distance from everyone. Especially me. Why? Why, Molly?”
I couldn’t answer him. It wasn’t that I couldn’t it was because I didn’t know what to say. Actually it was because I knew exactly what to say. But I wouldn’t ruin his life. Therefore, I remained silent.
“Forget it. You can have my mom or Jameson get your things from my apartment. I don’t want you around me anymore.”
He stormed out of my hospital room and I tried to get up, but I was in too much pain. The tears came faster and harder. What had I done? It was as if my heart was ripped out of my chest–again. Just like the day I went into the divorce lawyer’s office. I cried through every page of the decree because it wasn’t what I wanted.
I didn’t want this either.
I wanted Lars to hold me and tell me it was going to be okay. I wanted to have the white picket fence with him. I wanted to grow old and sit on the front porch with him watching the flowers bloom. I wanted it all.
“Miss Williamson.”
I quickly wiped my cheeks free of the wetness. “Yes.”
“I’m Dr. Kebo, I have all your test results.” He came around and stood where Lars had just been.
Here it comes. The news I’ve been dreading but already knew. “How long do I have?”
“I’m sorry?”
“How long before the cancer takes me?” I tried to be strong but the sob cut through me.
“I think you’re jumping the gun here. After all the tests we ran, it seems we can declare you in remission and you can stop taking the pills.”
What? There were no words I could say. Nothing was coming to mind. However, I felt one thing. Love. I wanted to tell Lars how much I loved him. The excitement of hearing the word remission was like lifting off the large brick house I felt weighing on my shoulders. It was a magical word. Even though it didn’t give a “cure”, it gave me hope.
“What’s wrong with me then? Why do I feel so awful?”
“You have the flu. It also appears you’re dehydrated and your iron is low. We’re going to get you some fluids and get you some iron pills. I will keep you overnight, just as a precaution. But you’ll be just fine.”
The tears fell for a different reason. They’re happy tears. “Thank you.”
When he left, I realized I had to find Lars, but I couldn’t move. There was no way I could go after him. I reached for the phone by my bed and called Jameson. The second he picked up, I told him everything that was happening and how we needed to find Lars.
“Where do you think he is?” he asked me.
“I’m afraid to say it, but I think he’s at a bar. Find him, please. I need to tell him.”
“Tell him what?”
“That I love him.”
Chapter Twelve
Lars
THE BUTTONS IN the elevator didn’t close those big steel doors fast enough. The elevator itself moved like molasses in winter. There were too many people in the hallway and in the lobby, too many smells, the floors were too shiny and the lights too bright. I could even hear the swish of people’s pants as they walked and the starched crisp doctor’s coats.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going,” one man commented as I bumped into him, too enchanted with the lights to watch where I was going.
“I’m…I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t even think straight. My eyes had targets that went way beyond the revolving doors of the hospital.
I could almost taste it in my mouth. Feel it trickling down my throat with that wonderful burn letting you know you were still alive.
Because I needed to be reminded of that right now.
“Sir, sir, are you okay?” The receptionist called after me until she was out of hearing range.
If I thought Molly’s tactic for getting me dry were stupid, I was sure they were nothing compared to that hospital’s attempt.
I didn’t remember crossing a street or stopping to look each way to see if traffic was coming.
I didn’t remember seeing the sign.
I just knew it was there.
One in the afternoon–perfect time to get plastered.
Perfect time to forget about loving Molly again.
I sat at the sticky-topped bar and almost plugged my ears at the baseball game in the background. The bartender was chatting it up with some old man at the other end of the bar. Already, he was pissing me off.
“Can a guy get a drink?” I barely recognized my own voice scratching its way out of my throat.
The bartender wiped the counter some more and held one finger up.
I could think of another finger to give him but decided better. This guy was going to be my best friend today.
That was the one and only reason I gave him a few more minutes to gossip.
I eyed the bottles from my perch. I opened and closed my mouth and began to salivate at the thought of having that savior come down to save me once again.
The phone rang and I nearly sprang over the top of the bar and into the next county.
Of course, the guy had to answer it. He put the phone up to his ear and turned his back on me, his voice whispers and mhmms. He was probably getting a reaming from his old lady. Good thing I didn’t have one of those.
He took a decade to get off the phone and when he did, I grabbed his attention. “Hey, man, how about that drink?”
The young man tipped his chin to me like I was someone he was greeting in the street.
I almost thought about going behind the counter to make myself a drink.
At least I knew how to do that.