Page 56 of Take Two

“Yeah. This apartment with your beautiful, successful wife who loves you and your two healthy kids. Your life as a professional basketball player. Tell me how bad you’ve always had it.” I slam the door behind me and face him. I regret it immediately and hope that the noise doesn’t wake Johnny. “Oh, wait. You did have it bad. You’ve had to deal with me. Except you didn’t.”

“You seriously think I didn’t have to deal with you, Charlie?” he whispers. He moves closer and points to my face, but I swipe his hand away. When I do, I make sure to gently swipe it in order to keep the promise I made to him years ago. “Who do you think researched those rehab facilities? Who do you think had to talk to Mama when she called me crying? Sometimes right before a game. Those games when I played the worst were about you,” he says, pointing in my face again.

“How many championships do you have under your belt? You couldn’t have been all that concerned about me,” I scoff, knowing full well that’s not true. I wouldn’t be here today if not for him and Mama. Mama might have been the one who was with me every day, but Colt was the one who paid for rehab. He was the one who paid for the house we lived in and everythingthat came with it. Mama was only able to pay for the lawyer after my last DUI because she gets an allowance from my brother. “I’m a screw-up. You’re not. You’ve made your point. I bet in your mind, I’m such a screw-up, it’s only a matter of time until Violet realizes it and dumps me. When that happens, you’ll be proven right because I’ll only be able to mend my broken heart by drowning in a fifth of vodka.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth. I didn’t say that, and I don’t think it.” He sighs and sits on the bed. “I don’t know how this conversation went down this road, but this isn’t about Violet at all. I didn’t realize you feel so strongly for her.”

I scoff at him and his hypocrisy.

“I do. She’s beautiful, funny, and sweet. She’s considerate and thoughtful. She cares about me. She listens without judgment. And it’s nice to have someone see me as I am now and not have memories of what a mess I was for all those years.” He stiffens at that, and I know he knows I’m talking about him. “I’m lucky that someone like her would be with me. I thought I would have to kiss a lot of frogs before finding her, but I didn’t. So, no, this isn’t a summer fling. I wish you’d show her the same courtesy I’ve always shown Vickie.”

He hangs his head, and I brace myself, waiting for him to say something negative. Or to say that his relationship and mine aren’t the same.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I like Violet, but I love you. I’m never going to stop lookin’ out for you. Long-distance relationships are hard, Charlie. I’m away from my wife for months out of the year, and it takes its toll. I miss her and the boys like crazy, and I worry about leaving her alone to deal with our kids. You have to prepare yourself. You’re a plane ride away, and maybe some of the excitement will dim when you’re not near each other every day. That’s all I’m sayin’. It’s nothing against Violet.”

Somehow, I get the impression that he hopes my feelings for Violet dim in time, but he couldn’t be more wrong.

Chapter 29

Violet

Charlie’s quiet when he gets to my apartment. He didn’t cook for me, but he brought me dinner from home. He sits with me while I eat, and despite his hand caressing my knee the entire time, he seems distant. The conversation is light, and he's his usual sweet self. Once I finish eating, he holds my hand while we walk to a church a couple of blocks away from myapartment.

It’s a humid night, and I’m already in need of another shower by the time we go inside and down the steps to the basement. There’s coffee, water bottles, and store-bought cookies set aside on a table. I take a bottled water and a sugar cookie and offer Charlie a bite. He eats it and makes a face.

“If you like sugar cookies, I can make some that are much better than that,” he whispers in my ear. “That’s awful. I can’t stand processed food.”

“You’re a bit of a food snob,” I say while I take another huge bite of the cookie. “Tastes fine to me.” I offer him another bite, but he turns his face away.

“That’s the first time in my life anyone has ever called me a snob,” he says. He tries to sound light, but the smiles aren’t reaching his eyes today. He seems tired. He’s not the lighthearted man I’ve come to know, but maybe he’s stressed about whatever he needs me to hear.

Whatever is on his mind won’t change how I see him or how I feel about him, but I’m curious about what he has to say. More people shuffle in, and Charlie pulls out a chair and gestures for me to sit.

I’ve never had a man pull out chairs for me. Whether we’re at home or out in public, he pulls out my chair. Even the other night when we had the indoor picnic, he laid out a pillow and gestured for me to sit. Unfortunately for me, Johnny yelled no and jumped on it before I could, so Charlie had to find me another one.

Once everyone in the room finds a seat, they open the floor for anyone to talk. Charlie stands in the middle of the circle. He’s stoic when he catches my eye. I smile at him, and he winks at me. I wink back.

“Hi,” he says then clears his throat. “I’m Charlie, and I’m an alcoholic.” He takes a breath while everyone greets him. “It’sbeen a while since I talked at one of these. My story is a long one. My journey here has had some twists, but it’s brought me to three years of sobriety. It all started when I was about eighteen.” He stops speaking as he gathers his thoughts. When he looks at me, I offer him an encouraging smile. “It’s a story as old as time. I was young but thought I knew everythang. My life changed in one night. One minute I was out with my friends celebrating my basketball scholarship at Alabama. The next, I was drunk, decided to climb a tree, and fell. I broke my femur and destroyed my life. I lost my scholarship, and with it, any hope of ever playing in the professional league.” He looks away as he talks, almost as if the memories pain him. “The thang is, I wasn’t an alcoholic when that happened. I was just a dumb kid doing what dumb kids do. I thought I was invincible. I was the stupid kid who was sick and tired of his mama warning him about the dangers of alcohol and how it affects the men in our family. I come from a line of drunks from both sides of my family. It affects all the men. But I was convinced I was different than the drunks that came before me. I was stronger. I was an athlete. I had control over my mind and body. I could handle it. It was the events of that night and losing everythang that began my journey to alcoholism. I started to drink so I could forget everything I lost. When the alcohol left my body and my mind was no longer in a fog, the regrets would come back, and I’d drink again. I’d drink more than the last time. I’d drink so much I’d black out and forget. I did horrible things to myself. To my mama, who was the only person who never, ever gave up on me. Two years after I lost everything, my youngest brother got served with the future I thought belonged to me.”

He stops again and looks down at the floor. I remain frozen in my chair and wait to hear what he says next. My heart beats furiously in my chest, and I sit on my hands to keep myselffrom getting up and going to him to offer him solace. I stop breathing while I wait for him to continue. “I did thangs to my brother that most would consider unforgivable. I got into his email and pretended to be him. I responded to his offer and turned it down.” My hand flies to my chest at that admission. I look into his face, but he still won’t look at me. “When that didn’t work, I picked a fight with him. It got physical. I planned it. I’ve always been stronger than him, and in all the fights we’ve had, he could never beat me. I got the best of him, and it was my mission to break his leg too, but he managed to get away and run out of the house. That was the only time my mom has ever been angry at me, but her anger didn’t hurt me as much as the sadness and disappointment did. I never saw her cry until that day. Even when my daddy passed away suddenly when I was sixteen, she wouldn’t cry in front of me and my brother. But that day, she did. She also threatened to put me out unless I agreed to therapy. I agreed but only went once. I wasn’t ready for help. I wasn’t ready to admit I was the problem. I blamed everyone else. I blamed fate. I blamed God. I blamed everyone but the person pouring the booze down my throat. I criticized everything my brother did to the point where he hardly ever came home. I resented him even though he did nothing wrong, but he got my future, and that was unforgivable. The bitterness inside of me only festered.”

I feel tears in the back of my eyes for the young man who made a horrible mistake that altered the entire course of his life. I want to cry for that boy, but I want to hug him and tell him that the man he is now is simply amazing.

“So, I drank. And I drank. And. I. Drank. I told myself I could handle it, and that I would quit when I was ready. My brother got drafted into the professional league. He still plays today. Despite everythang I’ve done, he’s put a roof over my head. Ialways had money in my pocket because of him. He’s paid for three stints of very expensive rehab. The last one finally took, but that was after one last fight between me and him that finally caused him to cut me out of his life for good. Before, he would barely interact with me, but I’d see him on holidays. He would bring my nephew around, but after our last fight, he went no contact. Don’t get me wrong, we barely interacted before, but that time felt different. He refused to be anywhere near me, and that hurt worse than the day I broke my leg and lost my future.”

I feel my nostrils flare at Colt abandoning his brother when Charlie really needed him. If he was here, I’d punch him right now. Selfish, dismissive, spiteful jerk.

“I bet you’re wonderin’ what could have happened the last time? He thought I was driving with my nephew in the car while I was drunk. My nephew was in the car, and Iwasdrunk.” For the first time since he started talking, he looks me in the eyes. “But that wasn’t my doing. He asked me for donuts, then snuck into my car when I went to get dressed. My brother wouldn’t let me explain. We fought, and he told me he wanted nothing more to do with me. I was arrested, and since it wasn’t my first DUI, I spent three months in the county jail. I lost my driver’s license for over a year. Despite that, he still paid for another stint at rehab. I vowed I was done with drinkin’ that time, but in the back of my mind, I didn’t really trust myself. It wasn’t until someone at rehab talked about everything drinking took from them. That night I thought about how much it took from me too. In all the years I was drinkin’, I never considered that all it did was take and take from me. Alcohol took away my scholarship and any possibility of me playing professionally. It destroyed my relationship with my only sibling for over a decade. It broke my mother’s heart over and over again. It cost me growth. What I mean is that in the years I should have beenlearning how to be a man—when I should have been datin’ or falling in love, I spent it drinkin’. I’m thirty-four years old, and I’m just now in my first real relationship.” He smiles at me. “And she’s beautiful and sexy and amazin’. She’s everything a man can want in a woman, and I found her. Knowing that she loves bein’ with me after everythang I’ve done is its own kind of high. The good kind. That’s the best thing sobriety has given me. It also gave me a restaurant back home. Sobriety helped me buy my first house. It’s a fixer-upper, but it’s mine. Mine and Chase Bank’s,” he says, and everyone laughs. “It’s given me forgiveness from my brother. That’s also brought me peace after all I tried to do to him. Sobriety lets me have a relationship with my nephews and sister. It has made my mama happy. It’s given me everythang, and that’s what I hold on to every day. One drink will take all of that from me, and I’m not going to let that happen.”

Chapter 30

Charlie

We don’t speak for the rest of the meeting. Once it’s done, I hold her hand in mine, and we take the short walk back to her apartment. We don’t speak then either, but a few times when we’re waiting for the light to cross the street, she puts her head on my bicep. That's all I need to know that we’re going to be okay. When we arrive at the front door of her building,I cup her cheeks and give her a kiss. She kisses me back, but we don’t deepen it.

After pulling out my key, we go inside and take the stairs to her floor. Once we get in her apartment, I open my arms and she comes inside. I wrap them around her and hold her close as she buries her face in my chest and starts to weep. I hold her until the crying stops, and she looks into my eyes.

“I’m so sorry you went through so much,” she whispers. “God, that was heartbreaking.”

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