as much, as we walk the short distance down the sidewalk on Main Street to the church where my AA meetings are held. And because it’s not the first time she’s mentioned it, I feel myself grind down on my back molars.
“Do you not want to go? Because I thought this might be good for us, after the other night.”
Something has stilted between us, as if all the air has gone out of our relationship, leaving it hard to breathe. We’re not functioning normally, and though her confession about her biological mother opened up another side of her to me, it also left a hollowness. Because now I know, I remind her of the parent who abandoned her.
Her amber eyes flit to mine, and she’s chewing on her lip so hard, I’m surprised it’s not bleeding. “No, I do. It’s just … I won’t know how to act.”
That really pisses me off. “Why, because recovering alcoholics are a bunch of savages? What does that even mean? You’re there to support me, to observe how I heal myself. You sit next to me and listen. No one is asking you to swing from vines or slit open a vein.”
She takes two steps away from me, and when I look down into her face, it’s as if I’ve slapped her. Immediately, I want to comfort her, but I’m hurting, too.
“That’s … I didn’t mean that. Of course, I’m here to support you.” But by the way her voice shakes, it doesn’t seem that she’s totally convinced herself of that, either.
They say the honeymoon period ends sometime, and I think ours is about up.
We’re silent as we walk into the church, and I head for the basement stairs and down to the auxiliary room where our meetings are held. On the way in, I say hi to a couple of people, not introducing Ryan because this is supposed to be anonymous. Not that she won’t recognize them from town, but what goes on inside these walls is supposed to be kept inside these walls.
The room is dank, and the smell gives every indication of just how old the building is. Rot and burnt coffee fill your nostrils, and the sound of metal folding chairs scraping across the linoleum floors is the music I associate with AA meetings.
Ryan sticks close to my side, even though I don’t lace my hand in hers like I normally would. We just feel off, and it’s making me distant. There is one person I need to introduce her to, though.
Cookie walks in, a cloud of cigarette smoke seeming to still surround her, and she’s in her usual getup. Clunky boots, dark black jeans, a sweater that rides too low on her chest, and some kind of vibrant costume necklace slung around her neck. She’s fabulous with a take-no-prisoners attitude, and I can see a bit of how Ryan will act when she’s close to her age.
“Cook,” I call, motioning her over. When she reaches us, a brow raised, I introduce them. “This is Ryan, my girlfriend. And Ryan, this is Cookie, my sponsor.”
Cookie’s face is expressionless as Ryan extends her hand. “Hey, it’s really nice to finally meet you. Fletcher talks about you all the time.”
“Hmm, hopefully nice things.” My sponsor tries for unimpressed.
Ryan is a confident woman, not one to take crap, but she’s so out of her element right now that I think Cookie rattles her.
“Oh, of course. He says you saved his life,” Ryan gushes, and it’s so unlike her.
I want to joke that she’s being a kiss ass, because she’s not even this flattering to my mother, but it’s probably not a good time to point that out.
“I’d expect that you wouldn’t screw it up, then.” Cookie eyes her with a presumptive glance, and I feel the need to get in the middle before these two start fighting like turkey vultures over a deer carcass.
That deer carcass being me, because hell if I’m even worth this much passive aggression.
“Let’s … find our seats.” I steer Ryan away from Cookie, looking back to give my sponsor a glare that says “behave.”
“Well, she’s a peach.” Ryan snorts.
“She’s just being protective.” Although, I have no idea why. She’s the one who told me to start dating.
“I know that.” My girl’s voice rings of hurt.
The meeting begins, and a bunch of people stand up to share. I decided before we got here that I’d hang back, because I’ve already shared a lot of my worst behavior with Ryan,