Secret Sister (18 page)

Something rustled in the corner of my room but I didn’t open my eyes. It was probably Fear, ready to mix it up again, maybe remove my spleen and lungs this time around, see if I could survive the loss of a few other organs.

Go ahead, Jack. You’ve already hit me with your best shot
.

Hours passed and the voice inside my brain quieted, and I was able to think more clearly. I had to do something. Talk to someone about why I bought that bottle.

I remembered the phone message from hours ago.
Of course.
I’d go see Ryan Seth. He’d helped me before.

But before, I’d had a reason to look forward to life. Her name was Cathy. Now, now I had nothing.

“How are you, Nick?” Ryan Seth clasped his strong hand on my shoulder.

“Good, good. Yourself?”

“I’m very well, thanks.” Seth continued to hold onto me. I smiled a fake smile, unnerved at my reflection in the lenses of his dark glasses.

“I’m glad you came in, Nick. Sit.”

I sat on the leather sofa and watched as the big man settled himself into his rattan chair. I noted, as I had all those years ago, the effortless way he moved around his office as if he could see. He never took a misstep.

Dressed in a white Mexican wedding shirt, loose white pants, and white socks on his shoeless feet, he looked like a sugar cane baron. This was my first visit to him in years.

I’d worked with Seth for a long time when I first stopped drinking. I’d steadily increased my consumption from high school weekend drinking, to binges in college, to every night inebriation when Cathy and I were first married.

He had helped me commit to a lifetime of sobriety and uncover a lot of the reasons why I drank. His sessions were mostly spent moderating while I argued aloud with myself about what I wanted from life, and if I thought I was up to getting it.

When I stopped seeing Seth, I left feeling he was the only one besides Cathy who believed I was capable of beating my addictions, even when I wasn’t so sure. When I called him back this morning, Seth said he’d promised a friend he would check in and see how I was doing. I didn’t ask who the friend was, and he didn’t volunteer the information.

Bradley knew him. Zoë had seen him professionally, too. As had Roxanne.

While Zoë was driving me over, I’d come to the conclusion Roxanne was the one who had asked him to call me. My mind was still gnawing on the issue of Roxanne’s newfound zeal to interfere in my life, and Zoë’s strange take on that, when Seth asked his first question.

“So, did you make it to a meeting today, Nick?”

When we talked earlier this morning, I’d told him what happened. He hadn’t sounded surprised.

“Yeah. At noon, before I came here.” I ran my hands down my jeans to wipe off the sweat. “AA meetings run morning, noon, and all night. Even on Saturday and Sunday. I’m part of a big consumer group, I guess.” I laughed nervously.

Seth sat completely still, his head turned toward the glass wall and the view of the wilderness behind his house that he could not see.

“How serious were you about drinking the other night?”

“Medium serious.”

“What happened?”

“Well, after I bought a bottle, I sat and thought about downing the whole thing but I managed to get a grip. When I got out of the car to pour it out, some kids jumped me, knocked me out and stole my wallet.” I touched the stitches on my forehead. “The cops rolled up and found me in the bushes smelling like good Scotch, so they hauled me to the hospital and pumped my stomach, thinking I was drunk.”

“That doesn’t sound like fun.”

“None at all. But at least the punks left my car. Shows you what a piece of crap I’m driving.” I laughed again.

“Were you arrested?”

“Ah, no. Once my blood alcohol came back zero, they warned me about hanging out in parking lots in the middle of the night and said they could cite me for an open container, but they didn’t.”

“So you won’t lose your license?”

“No. But I have a concussion, so the doctor says I shouldn’t drive for a couple of weeks. Zoë drove me around today.” I crossed my eyes. “Being chauffeured by a teenager will put the fear of God into you.”

“You’re lucky,” Seth said.

“Right.” I packed a lot of disgust into that one word, thinking he would approve.

Seth smiled, which wasn’t a good thing when you were in a session with him, I remembered too late.

“You don’t think you’re blessed with luck, Nick? Are you feeling particularly picked on, in the cosmic sense?”

“I understand that despite all that’s happened in the last month, that I’m responsible for not drinking, Seth.”

“Is that all you’re responsible for?”

I’d been in Seth’s office for less than ten minutes but already my heart was pounding and my ego was on red alert. I’d forgotten how confrontational, on issues of personal ethics in particular, that Seth could be.

“I’m responsible for my whole life, Seth. I get that. It’s those things outside my life that are causing problems for me right now.”

“The accident. Cathy’s death. Those are things outside your control, is that what you’re talking about?”

My eyes stung. “Yeah. Cathy’s death. I’m trying to come to terms with it, but I’m having some trouble.”

“So you decided it was okay to get drunk?”

If I wasn’t mistaken, Seth had contempt in his voice. “I didn’t decide to drink because I just lost my wife. I can’t really explain why I did what I did last night. Except it just seemed like the thing to do. To ease the pain, I guess.”

“Your first thought was that drinking was a way to make yourself feel better?”

“I wasn’t trying to feel better. I was trying to feel nothing.”

“Wow.”

I waited several moments for him to say more, but he didn’t. “I’m not suicidal, Seth. I was just stupid. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Well, I’d say you were thinking. Just not about anyone else. How’s your family taking this near-tumble?”

“Zoë and my mom are pretty shook up. They want me to be strong. I get that.”

“But you didn’t get that the other night?”

“I didn’t think about them the other night.”

Seth nodded and tented his hands together. “What does Gotye say in that great song, a person ‘can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness?’ That’s always a risk after a loss, to return to ways to punish ourselves. Then the sadness gets comfortable and it’s gets easier to feel worse every day.”

“No one wants to feel worse,” I said.

“Sure they do.”

“That’s bullshit, in my opinion.”

“Well in my opinion, it’s not. Because when a person feels bad, really bad, they feel entitled to misbehave, to let people down, kill themselves with booze, even get murdered by thugs. Hey, people know how to alibi bad behavior. It’s one of the first tricks we learn when we’re weak. It’s a way to bail out from a tight spot.”

“I think you’re misunderstanding what’s going on with me.” A knot twisted in my empty stomach. “I know I acted stupid buying that liquor, but it’s not what I intend to do with the rest of my life. I plan to work on it.”

“How? How are you planning on working on feeling better?”

I cleared my throat. “I’ll keep going to daily meetings for awhile. I’ll spend more time with my family. I know they’re worried about me, so I’m going to try and show Zoë and my mom I’m okay. That I’ll be completely okay. Someday.”

“Hmm, someday.” Seth didn’t act like he believed it. He rocked back and forth very slowly in his chair. “How is Zoë? You said she’s living with you?” I forgot he did that. He reminded me of Stevie Wonder, except Seth was bald. And not a black guy. And he didn’t sing. I blinked and tried to stay focused. Mostly I thought about leaving. And drinking. I licked my dry lips. “Zoë’s okay. She’s torn up about Cathy. She and my mom thought it would be good if she moved in with me for a while. It’s been nice having her there. Most of the time.”

“Yeah? Sounds like Zoë drew the short karma straw in your family. First she thinks she killed your dad, now she’s worried you might self-destruct.”

Our dad had dropped dead at Zoë’s little league baseball game when she was ten. She had felt responsible, like kids do. “Zoë and I have a good relationship and we take care of each other. We always have. It’s been going pretty good, too, considering all the grief and pain. Until Wednesday night.” I caught myself. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.

“What happened Wednesday night?”

Tersely, I told him we’d run into Roxanne. That she was with Bradley. That I’d lost it and ruined Zoë’s birthday.

“Seeing Roxanne was a shock?” Seth pressed.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been friends with her for years, right?”

“Cathy was friends with her.”

“You weren’t?”

I thought a moment. “Yeah. We’ve been friends for almost as long as I’ve known Cathy.”

“So how did you feel when you saw her?”

“Pissed off.”

He cocked his head. “Because she was alive and Cathy was dead.”

“That about sums it up.”

“That was a reasonable reaction, Nick. Being surprised by Roxanne and Bradley, even blowing Zoë’s dinner party. But did seeing her have anything to do with making you want to get drunk?”

“No, I don’t blame her for living. But seeing her alive and beautiful and all dressed up made me furious. I was numb for a day, then I got to thinking about the accident. I got to thinking Roxanne was probably driving while her attention was elsewhere. She was evidently having some problems with the ape she’s been with for years. Cathy told me that’s why she had to go with Roxanne that day. So when I saw Roxanne, I felt enraged. I felt like she was a
selfish bitch
who my wife gave up her life for.”

“So because Roxanne’s a selfish bitch, you get to drink and hurt everyone who cares about you?”

I put my head in my hands. “I said I wasn’t blaming Roxanne for my drinking. And I’m not. I’m trying to explain how I felt.”

“Okay. As long as you know you’re in charge, Nick.” Seth inhaled deeply. “So what’s the plan to get over the fact that Roxanne’s still breathing? Do you have one, or should I alert the police that they need to put a restraining order on you?”

“Jesus, Seth! I’m not going to do anything to Roxanne.”

“Good. So you’ve got a plan to get past your anger at her for driving that car.”

“Yeah.”
No
. “Shit.” I looked over at him. “Cathy died in an accident. I accept that. But it’s not fair. I just need some time to get a grip on that.”

“Time. It’s not on our side, no it’s not.” Seth smiled.

“Are you quoting song lyrics to me?”

“I always connect you with music when I see you. You were a great DJ from what I hear. And when the Santa Ana winds blow, I give into my own thwarted dreams of being a rock singer.” He grinned wider. “My wife says the winds are weeks early this summer and crazy things happen when they come early. You’re lucky I’m not singing the lyrics to you.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.

“Let’s change the subject.” Seth leaned back and folded his arms over his barrel chest. “It sounds like Zoë has reacted sensibly to your lapse with drinking, don’t you think?”

“Yes. She’s disappointed.”

“How do you know? Did Zoë complain?”

“Yeah.” I cracked my knuckles. “We talked a lot about it last night, and then she and Mom gave me an earful this morning.”

We sat in silence for a full minute or two. I felt like ants were crawling on me.

“Okay, Nick, I think the smart move for you is to certainly keep going to AA, but also you should emulate the people around you. You have some incredibly gifted women in your life.”

“Gifted?”

“You don’t think Zoë is gifted?” Seth’s tone was prickly.

“Yeah. She’s intelligent, if that’s what you mean.”

“No, Nick. That’s not what I mean. I mean your sister is
gifted
. She has gifts, talents, and strengths that help her better herself in life. As your mom does. As Cathy did. As you do.”

I stared at my shoes. I felt that rushing in my ears, telling me not to look up, that disaster was lurking, that I was going to get slapped with a tough question and I wouldn’t have a clue what to answer.

I looked up. “Zoë thinks Roxanne is acting like Cathy. That she’s stalking me, and trying to be like
Cathy for some weird reason. She thinks Roxanne is trying to get to me some way. My sister’s ‘gifted,’ all right. With an out-of-control imagination.”

“That’s a wild thing for Zoë to say. Has she spent a lot of time with Roxanne?”

“No. Just enough to make her run her mouth.”

“Or maybe she feels something she can’t identify and is just trying to protect you. I’d give your sister the benefit of the doubt, Nick.”

I felt like a shit then, trying to shift the focus off my miserable butt by holding Zoë up to ridicule. “I hear you. I’m just not very good with anyone right now. I feel rotten from the time I open my eyes until I go to bed, but anyone who loses their wife suddenly feels like that, right?”

“Are you asking me if you’re entitled to feel like you do?”

“No. I’m
telling
you I’m entitled to feel like I do.”

Seth sat back. “It’s good to hear you say that, Nick. It’s healthy. Do you believe you’ll eventually be able to move on from this great loss?”

“Yeah. I’m not addicted to any kind of sadness.” I tried to grin but couldn’t quite pull it off. “I want to have a life again. I just can’t imagine it without her.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Seth took another sip of tea. “By the way, do you believe in magic, Nick?”

“Magic?” I rolled my shoulders to get the kinks out. “You mean tricks, disappearing tigers, bunnies in hats?”

“No. Magic as in something that occurs in an ordinary person’s life which has no logical or scientific basis in fact to explain it.”

A memory from long ago washed through my brain. “Cathy did a paper in college on love and magic. She did tons of research, had hundreds of references, most from some pretty non-traditional sources, trying to prove that falling in love had a logical, scientific component.”

Seth smiled. “That sounds like her. Did she go for the pheromones, that we smell each other and fall into sexual obsession theory, or was there another scientific explanation out there she hooked up with?”