a client at my work and my boss has really strict rules about that kind of thing. But her case is closed—it’s been closed for a little while now. And now I feel stupid, like I missed my window. I mean, I have no idea if she’d even want to go out with me.” Now Texas was looking straight at me and even I could tell he wasn’t talking about some other girl.
I wanted to let cross talk be damned, leap to my feet, and yell, “She does want to go out with you,” at which point Texas would stand, grab me up in his arms, and kiss me in front of this circle of alcoholics, who would burst into applause. But of course I sat frozen in my seat.
“But I’m trying to surrender to the idea that I’m not in control of this situation. That’s all I got,” Texas said.
The rest of the meeting went by in a blur, with me too nervous and excited to do more than sneak an occasional glance in Texas’s direction. When it was time for the meeting to end, the leader asked us to close with the Third Step prayer. Everyone stood in a circle, held hands, and closed their eyes. This gave me the chance to watch Texas as he said the prayer. He looked really cute with his head earnestly bowed and his eyes closed. As soon as the prayer was over, the circle broke up into little clumps of people.
“Go talk to him,” Artemis said.
“Don’t boss me, Cupid Vanuncio,” I said. But I headed toward Texas.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey, Roxy,” he said.
“Thanks for sharing.” Could there be anything more awkward?
“I hope it was okay.”
I nodded in a way I meant to be encouraging.
Just then three guys swarmed Texas, all hugging him and patting him on the back as if he’d just hit some kind of spiritual home run. They had a variety of piercings, rockabilly outfits, and neck tattoos. “These are my sponsees,” he explained. “Hey, guys, this is Roxy.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, even though it wasn’t.
“I’m so glad we are going over our third step tonight,” one of Texas’s sponsees said. They all looked at Texas sort of reverentially.
“We go to Joe’s Coffee every week for our after-the-meeting meeting,” Texas explained.
“We need to get on with it if we’re gonna get a good table,” one of the sponsees said. The other two nodded in agreement.
“Yeah,” another said. “I only have a babysitter until nine.”
“Well, I better—” Texas gestured toward the stairwell, the world beyond this cozy church basement, and even I could tell he’d rather be leaving with me than going for coffee with a bunch of dudes.
“Yeah,” I said. “Good to see you.”
“Good to see you, too,” Texas said, and then his three sponsees sort of swept him out of the building.
A moment later Artemis grabbed my arm. “Tell me you got his number.”
I shook my head.
“Oh my God! I’m the world’s best wingman and you are impossible.”
We were headed toward the stairs when I heard Captain Tweaker yell, “Thanks again for the teeth!” I turned to see him waving goodbye at me and grinning his giant proud grin. I’ve never seen something so endearing from a man who had recently called me a cunt.
Artemis and I emerged into the dark night of the parking lot. “I can’t believe you didn’t get his number after he confessed his like for you in front of the entire meeting.”
“I couldn’t!” I said. “Not in front of Team Bro Sponsees. It was like he was a cult leader.”
“He’s just a good sponsor. Wait! I got it!” Artemis said. “You could leave a note on his car.” She pointed to a black Prius.
“Absolutely not,” I said.
“Come on! I’m sober and not the slightest bit manic. You’ve got to help me bring some fun into my life. This will cheer me up for a week!”
“Fine,” I said. Truthfully, I didn’t need much convincing. “Pen? Paper?”
She dug around in her purse and handed me a pen and a receipt. I started to write on it. Then I flipped it over and saw what it was. “Artemis! This is a receipt for a twelve-pack of condoms! I can’t leave a note on this!”
“Might be good to let him know you come prepared,” she said, but she looked in her purse again and found me a tattered blank envelope.
I carefully wrote:
Sam,
Great to see you! Call me if you ever want to grab a cup of