Page 124 of Sapphire Spring

On Friday morning, Tony drew the first set of names from afishbowl: Johnny and Lana. Johnny was the hockey player Pete had pointed out onhis first day. Lana was his petite beauty of a wife, whose long bright blondehair always looked like it had been flat ironed against the back of her cardigans.For a few seconds after Tony read their names, the only answer was a rush ofwind through the branches overhead and the squeaking sounds of the couple inquestion slowly rising from their folding chairs.

Mason felt like he’d been spared the executioner’s blade.

For twenty minutes, at least.

He couldn’t tell if the frosty look on Lana’s face was proofof her disdain for the proceedings or simmering rage at her husband.

Then the two circles of attendees were enraptured by hereloquent and thoughtful description of what life had been like with heralcoholic husband for the past five years, how she’d woken most mornings believingshe hadn’t been loving enough, supportive enough, pretty enough to keep herhusband from drinking the way he did. And as she described these feelings inraw detail, free from anger or hysterics, her husband slowly crumbled, hisfocus sinking from his wife to the dirt at his feet as the tears fell. Then shereached her account of what it had been like to discover him in bed with anotherwoman, and his face was glued to his palms as his massive, muscular back shookwith sobs. She finished by saying that she’d come to a decision—if he everdrank again, she would leave their marriage. If Johnny’s shares all week wereany indication, it was the first time he was hearing this.

Not every statement made in a one-on-one, the counselors hadtold them, needed to end with an ultimatum or a condition. The primary goal ofthe exercise was for the sober addict to experience the unvarnished truth abouthow their addiction had impacted their loved ones.

Then it was Johnny’s turn. He described how he barelyremembered being with the woman she’d caught him with—that’s how drunk he’dbeen—how he’d regained consciousness the following morning remembering only theawful hurt on his wife’s face, and that he’d woken up to that sight every dayat Pine Rise. He explained that each time he’d taken a drink, it was becausehe’d managed to convince himself that this time, he wouldn’t lose control. Nowhe’d come to the realization he’d never be able to control it, so he had to letit go altogether. And if he had to let drinking go just to keep her as hiswife, that was more than a good enough reason by itself. It was her turn tobreak down. Clearly, she hadn’t expected this promise.

As soon as Tony gave them the go ahead, they were in eachother’s arms. All told, the first session felt like an advertisement for howthis sort of thing was supposed to go. Fearless honesty. An agreement. Thepromise of growth. Some of the guys around Mason were crying, and all Masoncould think was,Howin the name of Godam I going to do this with my old man?

Tony stuck his hand into the bowl full of names, swished thelittle pieces of paper around, then drew one out. “Mason and Pete.”

When Mason stood, his legs felt like rubber. Inside, ayounger, childish version of him was running into the woods, screaming at thetop of his lungs. He’d pass out before he got to one of the center chairs, hewas sure. But he didn’t, so now he was screwed. And his dad was taking a seatacross from him as if he thought the chair might give way as soon as his butttouched metal.

Once they were seated, Tony spoke. “Pete, why don’t you—”

“Mason goes first.” There was a tense silence. “What? Imean, he’s the reason we’re here, so it’s only fair, right?”

“Dad—”

“No, seriously. I mean, it’s not my outfit, but I thought itwas prettyshittymaking that poor woman go first whenthe husband’s the one who—”

“I’ll go first,” Mason said.

His dad fell silent.

Tony studied Mason.

In a few seconds, their dynamic had been laid bare for thegroup. Rushing into agreements he wasn’t comfortable with, stuffing down how hereally felt, all so he could douse the old man’s latest flare of temper. IfMason was right, Tony was trying to figure out how the session would be bestserved—pressuring PeteWortherto conform to someoneelse’s rules, or letting Mason take the lead. Finally, Tony nodded at Mason.

“My heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chestright now,” Mason managed.

“Why? What have I ever—”

“Mason’s going first Pete, remember?” Tony interjected.

“No, seriously. I mean, this kid has had every—”

“Pete.”Tony’s voice was like the crack of a whip,the voice of a man used towrestlingwith addicts inall stages of recovery, anger, and sadness. “We do this one at a time. That’show this works. If you don’t want to go first, that’s fine, but that means wedon’t interrupt Mason until he’s done. You’ll have your chance to speak, likeyou just saw.”

Pete’s jaw tensed like he was chewing cud. His cheeksflamed. It had been a long time since anyone had batted him down like this, ifever. Instead of marching off, the man took in a long, pained-looking breaththat flared his nostrils, then he stared at the dirt between their feet.Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the man sensed his son’s gaze andlooked up at him, and Mason saw that same blend of fear and need in his oldman’s eyes he’d seen during their first lunch at Pine Rise.

“It never occurred to me what it was like for you to have ason who drank as much as I did.”

Pete looked shocked. Mason was shocked too. He’d heard folksin meetings talking about having the sense that their higher power—theirconceptions of God, or their sense of a greater force that governed theuniverse—was speaking through them. This was one of those moments. “I thoughtyou were so tough that you didn’t care…really. Or you were just embarrassedwhen I made a mess. And then the other day, your first day here, when you toldme you didn’t want me to die drunk. That meant a lot.”

Pete was looking into his eyes now, but he looked wary. Andembarrassed.

“I didn’t think I had the power to hurt you, and I guessthat’spretty childishof me. But the truth is, I’mafraid of you.”

Pete flinched.

“I’ve always been afraid of you. I’m still afraid of you.For as long as I can remember, it feels like you’ve been angry, and it’s beenhard for me not to believe that I’m the reason. Because it’s always been thetwo of us, so who else could it have been? ButI realize nowthat’s kind of self-centered of me. And it became my excuse to hide things fromyou. I hid how scared I was of you. How scared I was of losing your approval,which is crazy because to be perfectly honest, it doesn’t feel like I ever hadyour approval.” Mason cleared his throat. “But the point is, I wasn’t honestwith you about who I was, and I lied to you in college about how bad mydrinking was. I told you a lot of lies. And that’s on me. But one of those wasthat I never told you how badly it hurt…”

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