Twenty-Two

I was in the library, doing my homework when the library doors clicked open. "Son?" asked dad as he entered the dimly lit room. The only light source was from the desk lamp and I wanted to keep it that way.

For the past three days, I've had a constant string of migraines. My mom gets migraines easily too so it's genetics. "Yes dad?"

"We have an Al Anon meeting tonight. It's for families so there might be some kids around your age there too." Dad tried to pour the enthusiasm on, but his face said differently. "Your mom is already in the car, son."

Closing my textbook, I leave it on the table so I'll remember to take a look at it later. However, since it's 7 pm according to my phone I know the chances of me studying tonight again are slim. I close the library door and let my eyes blink a bit as it adjusts to the light of the hall. "I'm ready," I reply as dad turns the hall light off. After, turning the house alarm on he locks up the front door too before we head down the hill.

I must have been really focused on my homework to not hear dad leave earlier to take the car out of the garage. Since our garage is located in the back so as to not ruin the magnificence that is the front of the house, Dad always has to circle around from the back gate to the front gate or vice versa to make it back to the garage.

When I open the back door of the car, mom is already there instead of sitting upfront with dad like she normally does. "Ma?"

"Yes Kitrick?"

"There's plenty of space upfront for you. Why are you back here?" I ask her.

Mom pushes her perfectly coiffed hair off her shoulder as she says, "Well, I'm dreading this first meeting and I can't stand to look at your dad right now. Since he sprung this meeting on me."

"On us," I answer back as I look at dad.

"You look great tonight shoog," replies dad as he starts the car. She does look great.

In fact, I'm sure dad lied to mom and said we were going to some work function of his since she's formally dressed in a long black dress with sequins on the long sleeves.

At least she chose black instead of a crazy wild color like I've seen her do other times. Twenty minutes of driving and listening to the oldies radio station and we arrived.

The building dad parks near is one clearly showing it's age. The paint on the outside of it is chipped, and a window flower box is hanging barely on it's hinges. It holds no.flowers and how can it? When the box is drooping at a complete vertical angle. Despite the haphazard look of the place though, the light pouring out on the sidewalk from the windows looks inviting. By the shadows flitting across the sidewalk there's already people here.

Dad looks at the digital clock near the stereo. "Oh. We're right on time!"

Dad and I are the first to slide out of the car. While mom looks at the front door of the building with...fear? I've only known my mom up to now as a woman who's fearless.

I'm shocked and because of it, I look away from her. While my dad moves next to me near the open door. "Come on, shoog. Let's go in together." I look at dad who has his hand outstretched towards my mom. "You can hold my hand as long as you want, shoog. You know that." Dad's words are so filled with love it leaves me speechless.

Will I ever talk with anybody the way dad talks with mom? It just sounds so far-fetched. I can't help but feel jealous for my old man. He has what I hope to have with Rona.

My shock and speechlessness leads me to not snap out of it till the front door swings open. "Hello! You must be the newcomers, welcome!" The lady who opens the door is wearing a dress with leopard print and her long hair just hangs around her effortlessly.

Everything about her clothes screams loud and unafraid but her voice is soft and soothing. Certainly a visual contradiction, but as I glance at mom I see a ghost of a smile on her lips. She's the first to take a step forward inside of the building this time and dad looks relieved at the sight. I'm the last one to enter and I softly close the door. "Thank you for letting us come tonight, I know our arrival is a bit last minute--" dad says when the leopard print lady puts one hand up.

"Say no more, you can come last minute any time you'd like. This isn't a doctor's office where you need an appointment, you know." She leads the way to a large room where people are sitting around in a large circle made out of metal chairs. "This is the sharing circle and my name is Cherish! I'm the group moderator for this evening."

Mom sits down near a mom holding a little girl in her lap. "Hello," says mom with a tight smile. Mom doesn't like sitting near little kids just because she hates when they start to cry. She can't stand the noise. Dad told me when I was a little kid and I had my emotional outbursts that mom usually just walked in the other direction, getting away from the ruckus.

"Would you like to switch seats, shoog?" asks dad to mom in a whisper. She gives a subtle nod and a radiant smile in dad's direction before they switch seats. I sit to dad's left side as on my left sits and elderly man with a fedora.

Cherish sweeps her arm in our direction as she starts. "Welcome everyone, thank you for coming this evening! Tonight, we have new visitors. The Adair family. Let's give them a round of applause!" After she says that the whole room is clapping except us. "Coming here is the first step and I know it's the hardest, but it get's better from here." Mom blushes slightly while dad and I share a look.

Cherish has a sparkly blue pen as she says, "Alright, I'll start tonight's meeting. Hello, my name is Cherish and I'm an alcoholic."

The whole group says, "Hi Cherish!"

"If you met me ten years ago, you would've seen me at every night club the State of Arizona has to offer and that was just on my weekends. During the day I'm a Public Relations specialist which requires me to go on many luncheons and client dinners where I used to drink more." Cherish folds her hands in her lap and sighs. "When I hit rock bottom was during one of my weekend adventures, I woke up in a strange man's house and apparently, the strange man I went home with was married. So, I helped ruin a marriage as well as debase myself in the process by not even remembering what happened the night before."

After she says that the children old enough to understand grew really quiet. Cherish becomes one story out of many others as the sparkly blue pen get's passed around from person to person. When the pen goes to me half an hour later, I hold it tightly in my hand. "Uh, hello," again with those word placers! "My name is Kitrick Adair and I'm here in support of my mom, Dotty Adair. Thank you," I reply. I'm about to hand the pen to mom when Cherish puts up her hand.

"Hold on now that's all you have to say?" she asks. "Tell us a bit more about yourself."

"There's not much to tell other than, I grew up seeing my mom drinking alcohol and saw a drink in her hand as just her normal state. I'm not the alcoholic." After I say that Cherish's jaw drops and I know I just said something off.

Cherish closes her mouth and smiles coyly. "Kitrick, whenever a family is affected by alcoholism, the whole family structure changes. You might not have ever taken a drop of alcohol ever, but because your mom's an alcoholic then so are you." Cherish points to herself as she adds, "Take me, for example. Growing up I was just like you. Responsible, driven, and no drop of alcohol near my person. My dad on the other hand, always had a bottle of beer in his hand. I saw that sort of behavior as an acceptable form of everyday life. When I grew my public relations firm I also took to those habits I remember from when I was a young girl living with my dad on the Zuni Reservation in New Mexico." Cherish stands up straighter and looks me dead straight in the eye. "So Kitrick, you too are by extension, an alcoholic and you know what? It's okay. We're here to help each other live with that fact so we can live the best life possible."

My cheeks grow hot as I feel an invisible stamp that says 'stupid' on my forehead. Still, I stand up straight too, "I might not agree with your premise right now Cherish, but I'll take what you just said into consideration." It's the most civil string of words I had from the debate experience I have.

Surprisingly, it doesn't stop my mom from stepping on my foot with her kitten heels hard. I wince but don't cry out in pain. Especially when now, it's her turn.

"Well hello, my name is Dotty Adair and I'm...I'm an....al-alcoholic." Everybody else gives mom a reassuring look as she continues. "I wasn't always like this. I ummm...I just had a drink or two to take the edge off during family functions and such. My mother-in-law is a bit high maintenance and expects much from her daughter-in-laws. Then from family functions, I started to have a drink during meals. Then before I knew it, I had a drink in my hand...no matter what." Her eyes grow watery as she squeezes dad's hand. "My low point was when I had an argument with my husband about hiding some money he put away for my son's education. He hid the account from me because of my wide-ranging spending habits when it came to buying alcohol. I didn't even keep track of the spending. Only when my husband showed me my spending history of the past year I realized it was true what he said. I spent more on alcohol than on designer labels. Well, uh that's all I can think of for now, so...thank you."

Some people gives my mom sympathetic looks after the designer labels bit and others look at her with envy. My mom is a prime example of how everybody's rock bottom looks and sounds different. Still, they all applaud after hearing my mom's story. She smiles and hands the blue sparkly pen to dad.

"Hi, my name is Richard Adair and I'm here in support of my wife as well and I'm an alcoholic too." He holds mom's hand before saying more. "I'm new at going to Al Anon meetings because I grew up with a mother who claimed to have her drinking under control. She didn't always and it resulted in some pretty festive and interesting family reunions in my home state of Georgia." After dad says that there's a murmur of chuckles. "So, I'm trying to help break the family cycle because I want my son to find someone who can help him do just that. Thank you."

Dad then passes it on to the mom holding her child. The stories are all under wide-ranging topics. Some are more dramatic than others while others just talk about everyday life struggles. At the root of each story is the true struggle of alcoholism.