“Yes. He’s never gotten hateful or mean with me, though.”
“But that doesn’t mean he won’t. You barely know him, DeeDee. Do you think this is smart? Why don’t you just come and stay with me?”
DeeDee has the best track record in the history of track records for picking the absolute worst man in a fifty-mile radius and attaching herself to him. She’s been married more times than I can count and is convinced that she cannot have a happy life if it doesn’t have a man in it.
“I’ll be fine. I think there really might be something between us, Vi.”
“But DeeDee, you said he—”
“He might be the one,” she interrupts, triggering a cringe-hiss-sigh combo in me. I’ve heard this too many times before. They’re all “the one,” and yet not one of them sticks around.
“But what if he’s not? What if he really does have some anger issues? What then?”
“I can leave anytime I want. He’s not making me stay there.”
“I know, DeeDee, but—”
“It’ll be fine, worrywart,” she assures in her completely oblivious fashion. When she’s like this, she can’t be reasoned with. Even less so than on a normal day.
“Will you call if you need me? If he gets rough or mad or starts to spout off, will you call me? I can come straight over and get you.”
“I’ll call if he gets rough, Vi, but he won’t. I guarantee it.”
“You’ve known the guy for a couple of months and gone out on two dates that didn’t go well. How can you guarantee it?”
“A woman just knows these things,” she declares mystically.
Oh Lord!
“How about I come by and check on you later?”
“I won’t be there. John is taking me out to dinner tonight.”
“Then tomorrow?”
“He’s taking me to get groceries. I told him I’d buy since I’ll be there eating his food. I’m gonna show him what a great cook I am.”
I hold my tongue. There’s no point in arguing with her when she gets her sights set on something. Or someone. I just sit quietly in the silent interior of my car, waiting for her to get to the reason she called. She has to need something.
“But there is one thing . . .”
And there it is . . .
“What’s that, DeeDee?”
“I just bought all my medications a few days ago, so I really don’t have any money to buy the groceries. Do you have a few dollars you could spare? Just until I get my check?”
DeeDee receives aid from everyone that will help her—the state, the federal government, the local churches, and, of course, family. “Family” in this case translates to me. Everyone else is pretty much tired of her never-ending state of distress, but I just can’t turn my back on her. She’s family. And that’s not what family does. Family sticks around when everyone else leaves. At least they’re supposed to. Most of mine just haven’t figured that out yet.
“I’ll bring something by after work.”
“Just put it in my mail slot. I’ll be back and forth most of the day.”
“Okay. Just . . . just be careful, okay?”
“I’m always careful, hon.”
I swallow the derisive snort before it can make its way out. “Call if you need me,” I say, totally unnecessarily. DeeDee always calls if she needs anything.
“Oh, I will.” And I have no doubt she will. I just hope it’s not from the hospital or from a battered women’s shelter.
After I hang up, I sit in the quiet, reminding myself that I love this, that I love helping people. It takes several minutes of convincing before I feel patient enough to go in to my client’s house. As I walk toward the front door, I hear a screaming child and I know this is going to be one long and nasty Thursday.
* * *
I’m feeling a little off-kilter by the time Tia and I reach the meeting. I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel stupid for rushing home to take a shower and taking special care with my hair and makeup tonight. I wouldn’t normally do that, and I know it has everything to do with the prospect of seeing Jet.
I feel even worse about my silly decision when, fifteen minutes into the meeting, Jet still hasn’t shown.
Part of me is a little worried that something has happened. I mean, he seemed pretty serious about the process thus far. Another part of me is disappointed that maybe he’s pulled the wool over my eyes, that I believed him because I wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that there’s hope for him. I now realize I was a little too personally invested in that hope.
The biggest part of me, however, is upset that I don’t get to see him, and that he didn’t want to see me enough to come to this meeting. And that is unlike me, which shows me that I really was getting too close. For that reason alone, this is probably a good thing. Tonight, I’m officially pulling the plug on being his sponsor. If he’s not any more committed to healing than this, I’m not going to waste my time.
Even though I’m not a real sponsor and I’ve lied to him from the very beginning, I think.
I refuse to let the guilt I feel over that take hold, though. This is all for the best. I just need to see Tia through these meetings and then put it all behind me. The end.
If only it were that easy. Because it’s not.
By the time the meeting is closing, I’m feeling antsy and angry and in the midst of a desperate need to blow off steam, something I’ve never really felt before. Normally, I cope well with whatever comes my way. But tonight, that’s not the case. I don’t know how to explain the particulars of it, I just know that I want to go out and prove something to somebody, whether it’s me or someone else, or the world at large.
When Tia and I are settled in my car, I turn to her. “Do you wanna go somewhere?”
She frowns. “Like where?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Just somewhere. I wanna do . . . something.”
“Huh?” She’s looking at me like I’ve grown a second head. Even Tia realizes this isn’t like me.
“I don’t know. I feel . . . antsy. I just wanna go somewhere and do something.”
“Like where? You mean like a bar or a club or something?” She looks doubtful because I’ve never wanted to do those things.
Until tonight.
“Yeah, maybe something like that.”
“Why?”
“Tia, I don’t know. Why are you asking so many questions? You’re the party girl. Can’t you just run with this, like you usually do?”