“So?” Brian asked. His brother took a sip of his coffee then set it back on the table.
They'd left the penthouse and stopped at café. Danny glanced at the pedestrians as they passed them on the busy sidewalk.
“A friend of mine gave me some vitamins to take. She said it relaxed her.”
“Vitamins?”
“Well, maybe they're not, but at the time I started, I really thought they were.”
His face burned as he confessed to his brother how silly he had been.
“I never did H before, so I didn't know what it tasted like. I thought it was herbal.”
“Wow. Somebody tricked you into getting high? That's your dumbest lie to date.”
“No one tricked me into anything. I just wanted to believe.” Danny banged his head against the glass table. Damn! He'd fought hard to gain almost three years of sobriety and now it was gone.
“Well, what are you going to do now?”
“I don't know. It's just my luck Marnie was the one that caught me. She'll never stay sober now.”
“Buck up. She showed a lot of courage flushing it.”
Brian was right. Confronting him, getting rid of the H, and calling Brian were all strong signs of a commitment to staying sober. Perhaps her suicide attempt was a good thing after all. Maybe she had realized she wanted to live. She needed a new role model in order to continue though, because he was failing her miserably.
“What was I thinking doing this? I can't be anybody's fucking sponsor. I betrayed her, and she rose to the occasion in spite of me.”
“It's easy to follow a path and never veer off it, but it's a hell of a job to get back on a path after you've been knocked off. Maybe she has staying power, but she needs to know once she's fallen down, she can still get back up. That's your gift to her.” Brian reached over and stole a fry from his plate.
He was right; this thing could still be salvaged.
“Marnie,” Danny said.
She dropped the books she carried and turned around. Her eyes widened in fear.
“Can you give me a minute?” He walked into her room and patted a space next to him on the bed.
Marnie didn't oblige him though. She merely stood with her hands folded across her chest.
Danny sighed. “I suppose I deserve that. I'm really sorry about what's happened, but I wanted to let you know that I've got my head screwed back on track.”
He looked around the room. She had gotten the bookcase back against the wall and was putting books in their respective spots. His heart sank as his eyes fell upon the two suitcases that sat next to the door.
“I know I let you down, but if you give me another chance, I know I can make this right.”
“Danny, this whole thing is stupid. It's the blind leading the blind.”
Danny chuckled. “I know it seems like that, but relapse is a part of recovery. I'm not a failure, and you're not either if you fall off. All that matters is that we get back up. I'm going to a meeting tonight, and I want you to come.”
“I'm not doing that.”
The note of finality in her voice indicated to Danny it would be a waste of time to try and change her mind.
“I was really proud of you today. Temptation was staring you right in the face and you didn't succumb.”
“I did dip my finger in for one taste before I flushed it.”
“One taste? Under these circumstances, that doesn't even qualify as failure. If you want, we can still finish what we started. I promise you don't have to worry about me doing anything like that again.”
Danny grabbed her and pulled into a bear hug. “Besides,” he pulled back and brushed her hair behind her ears. “Brian's going to be incredibly disappointed if you leave now.”
Marnie wriggled out of his embrace. “More like insanely happy. He probably blames me for all of this anyway.”
“No, he doesn't. Trust me.”
“Ugh!” Marnie moaned flopping herself on the bed. “You're making that difficult.”
“Alright, any newcomers have anything to share?” The group leader eagerly looked around the room.
Danny raised his hand and walked up to the mike.
“Hello, my name is…” He thought about using an alias, but realized that would make the whole process seem surreal and right at this moment he didn't need to create any excuses for using again. “My name is Danny and I am a cocaine addict.”
A sea full of men, peppered with groups of women greeted him in unison, eagerly awaiting his confession.
“I was sober for almost three years, but recently I have deluded myself into thinking I could manage my abuse if I only used in small doses, or only when I was tired or had a bad day or had a headache. Of course, I suddenly had an excuse every day on why I needed to use.”
The audience chuckled, as if they could relate.
Danny stopped and took a deep breath. This was the hardest part of all.
“I've been actively abusing substances for twelve years. With that kind of time, people slowly stop believing you're ever going to get sober.”
Danny glanced at his brother. “They get tired of hoping that this rehab treatment will do the trick. He'll come out and miraculously be different. And they're so disappointed when they discover you aren't. And you have to look into that disappointed face every day. Then I met someone who looked up to me. Who believed in me and I thought ‘This is it. I'll stay sober this time.' But I failed her as well. This person saw the heart of my addiction, and now the trust is gone. The guilt that comes in crushes you, making you want to use all over again, because you can't get that trust back. The one person who was in your corner and believed in you is gone.”
The realization of what he'd lost hit him full force. His breath caught in his throat, and he lost his will to speak.
“Thank you, Danny.” The group leader smiled, then ushered him off the platform.
Relief flooded his body as he stepped off and took his seat next to his brother. He looked at Brian expectantly. Perhaps a pat on the back, or a word of encouragement? But Brian sat back in the chair, face forward, clenching his jaw. Danny sighed and turned to do the same. Focus. He not only needed to come share his testimony, but focus on the experience of others as well. This was easier said than done. Anger, guilt, and shame swirled around in him. Focusing was the last thing he could do. He crossed his arms and willed himself to concentrate on each word the next speaker used, repeating it slowly to himself.
Once the meeting was over, Danny made a beeline for the exit. He looked around as he got to the door and discovered Brian wasn't with him. His eyes roamed the room looking for a man with a light blue dress shirt.
Damn!
He slowly walked back into the room and toward the buffet table.
“Brian!” He hissed. “Let's go.”
He jerked his head toward the door.
His brother turned around, a sheepish grin on his face. Cookies and chips were piled on his plate.
“Here.” He handed Danny a silver chip. “Congratulations on your first meeting.”
Danny pocketed the silver coin then dragged Brian across the room. They needed to leave before someone recognized him.
“Excuse me.”
Shit. Too late. Danny fixed a smile on his face and turned around. A short, stocky woman with brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and bangs that stopped at her eyelashes stared up at him.
“I know we're not supposed to do this.” She leaned toward him and whispered. “Would you autograph this for me?”
She pushed a paper plate into his chest.
“Sure.”
Danny fished around in his coat pocket for a pen. His hand finally closed on something. It felt too big to be a pen. Yes! A marker. Good ole Marnie.
He quickly clicked the cap and scrolled a note plus his signature sign off.
“I'm Angelique.”
Brian shook her outstretched hand.
“I really want to thank you for coming out tonight. It gives me hope to know that someone like you is going through the same problems I'm having,” Angelique said.
“Hey, thanks for coming.” Danny looked up—a line had formed behind Angelique. The man who spoke had reached from behind her to shake Danny's hand. Danny gave the plate back to the woman and shook the man's hand. Then another and another.
He wasn't just an addict who was all alone. He was a role model, and he had people who he'd never met that were counting on him. People who believed in him, without ever asking him if he would stay sober. He could do this. He had to. But would Marnie?