The Secret of You and Me - Melissa Lenhardt Page 0,51
was in the arms of a stranger, but there was only one woman I wanted. Even after all these years.
I sat at the exit until a car behind me honked. I turned automatically and wandered around Austin until I found a dive bar. A real dive, not the ones that no amount of dressing down could keep from looking gentrified. In Austin these days, it’s not an easy feat.
With a nine-dollar pack of Marlboro Lights from the cigarette machine by the bathrooms and three shots of Jack with a beer chaser, I watched dog racing on the small television above the bar, said I’m gay in a voice so low only I could hear and burst into tears. The bartender, dingy and seedy as his bar, silently poured me another shot and walked to the other end. My hand shook as I lifted the cigarette to my mouth. I closed my eyes and let the smoke mask the aroma of sour beer and vomit, felt the nicotine calm me, but drank the shot anyway.
I considered my three options: drive to the airport and get on a plane to DC. Beg Nora’s forgiveness, tell her she was the love of my life and hope we hadn’t changed so much that what we had was gone.
Return to my life. A loveless marriage held together by an incredible daughter. A challenging and fulfilling career. Friends? Not really. I’d kept myself apart from girlfriends, knowing I would never find another friendship like what I had with Nora, and afraid I might fall in love with someone else if I did.
Come out. Divorce Charlie but stay in Lynchfield for Logan. I took a drag of my Marlboro Light and thought about what life would be like as Lynchfield’s homegrown, token lesbian. Smoke leaked out of my nostrils. I shook my head. “No way in hell,” I murmured, downed my shot and signaled the bartender for another one. It came at the same time as a text from Logan.
What time will you be home?
I downed the shot, ordered a burger and coffee and texted a lie to my daughter. Late meeting. Be home by four.
I could see the back of the Kendel County line sign in my rearview mirror when I saw the cruiser make a U-turn and flip on his lights. I failed the field sobriety test and blew a one-point-five. I was still drunk when Charlie bailed me out at 10:00 p.m.
“You have to get help.”
“I know.”
“Is this the mother you want Logan to remember?”
“Fuck you.”
Charlie had never understood his pleas to stop always made me want to drink more. I hated being told what to do, even when it was in my best interest. I would have kept on drinking if I hadn’t seen the expression of disgust on Logan’s face when we got home.
That was when our typical mother/teen daughter relationship changed from embarrassment to hatred.
Charlie was still at home the next morning when I dragged myself out of bed. I stopped when I saw him, knowing I looked like shit, wishing I’d hopped in the shower. I pretended confidence, poured myself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, waiting for the lecture that never came. He turned his computer around to face me.
I leaned forward and read the address on the screen. “I’m not going to an AA meeting at our church.”
“You have to get help, Sophie.”
“I know, and I will. But, not in Lynchfield.”
Charlie furrowed his brows while I tapped out a search and hit Enter. I clicked on a meeting I’d considered going to for a couple of years. I knew if I were to work the program in its entirety, I would have to tell some truths I didn’t necessarily want anyone in Lynchfield to know. And, frankly, I didn’t wholly trust the anonymity the group promised.
Charlie took the day off, and we drove to Dripping Springs for my first meeting. Todd was the first person who greeted us, and I felt an immediate connection with him even though he was a burly bald man with a long beard and covered in tattoos. His intimidating looks were deceiving; he was a gentle, soft-spoken hippy who smelled of freshly hewn lumber.
Todd’s path to shaking my hand started in a deep East Texas, white supremacist gang—the family business being hate, intimidation, crime and violence—through two stints in the pen, finding Jesus and joining AA during his last stint, and a move to the Hill Country and away from