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The scent of stale coffee grounds and sugary pastries filled my nostrils as I entered the donut shop. Other than a scraggly man seated near the entrance, the place was so dead, an empty paper cup blew across the scuffed wooden floor planks.
The same Asian woman who had threatened my life during the last visit greeted me with steely narrowed eyes. Her glare made two things clear: she didn’t trust my presence, and I needed to handle my business and get the fuck on ASAP.
“Sonia no wanna see you!” She dismissed me with a fierce wave of her hand. Her actions from my last visit were still fresh in my brain, so I kept my eye on her other hand, which had just dipped under the counter. I took a step back on instinct.
“Choi Kim, it’s okay. It’s fine, she can stay.” Sonia exited the kitchen and placed a calming hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Why are you here?” she asked as she walked around the counter.
“Can we chat?” I kept my eyes on Choi Kim as we spoke.
Sonia motioned for me to follow her to a table on the other side of the dining area, where I took a seat in a rickety formica chair. It rocked with my every movement, even the simple act of taking a deep breath.
“Is she always that intense?” I whispered out of earshot of the prickly beast behind the counter, who eyed me with cold contempt.
“Choi Kim gets real protective about people she loves.” Sonia grinned, tossing a quick glance at the woman. “I owe her for life, really. She took me in when I didn’t have anybody else, and she’s helping me put the pieces of my life back together.” A look of sad reminisce held her face captive for a few seconds before her demeanor shifted.
“Anyway, why are you here?” she continued.
I gave her a quick head-to-toe examination, realizing there was something different about her energy since the last time I’d seen her. It wasn’t her appearance, because she was still hiding under that unsightly wig. But she didn’t seem as skittish, either.
“Remember how you said you wanted revenge?” I cut right to the chase. Sonia’s breath hitched as she fell silent before giving a nod.
“You know...that night...dredging up all those memories...” She shrugged and then sat back in her seat. “I was in a different headspace. Had never talked about what happened that night with anyone except Ms. Kim, so I got a little carried away. The truth is, I’m ready to move past it.”
“You can’t be serious, Sonia.” I frowned. A change of heart? This was soooo not what I needed right now. I needed her head in the game if my plan B was going to work.
“Max fucked up your life. Traumatized you to the point that you couldn’t even stand to hear his name,” I reminded her, registering her grimace as I continued. “After the shit he pulled—and got away with, mind you—you’ll never be the same. I know you wanna get his ass back for that.”
I didn’t know what had happened between the time we’d talked and now, but she could miss me with all the talk about moving forward. She needed to get back on the “Fuck Max Calloway” train.
Sonia studied me for a second, looking past me at one point as she got lost in her thoughts. After the longest pause in history, she finally spoke.
“What exactly did you have in mind?” A smile the size of the Golden Gate Bridge spread across my face as I leaned in.
“So, he’s about to get married...” I paused, reading her nonverbals to confirm I had her full attention. When her brow raised in intrigue, I continued.
“But here’s the thing...I don’t think the bird-brained broad he’s engaged to knows he’s technically still married. So, what I wanna do is—”
“Wait.” Raising her hand, Sonia cut me off. “Are you saying Max’s wife is alive?” Her eyes bubbled, just seconds from leaving their sockets.
“According to him, she’s alive and well.” As I gave her all the details I had,
she looked like she’d be sick.
“So...” I chose my words carefully; it was clear that whatever memories she had of Max were playing on fast forward through her mind. “I feel like...I need to find the woman.”
Taken aback, Sonia cut her eyes at me. “Look, I don’t know about all this. I know what I saw, and somebody choked the life out of that woman. I’ve been back to that house several times since that night, and I’ve never seen her again. I just...” Sonia shot to her feet like someone had lit fire under her ass, chair scraping the floor as it slid into the wall. “I just wanna move on. I don’t wanna be involved with this crazy ass shit anymore.”
“O-okay...look, I get it.” I gave a gentle tug at her forearm. “Just do me a favor. Tell me where you found the woman, where you last saw her and I’ll leave you alone. You won’t see me again,” I pleaded.
Sonia stared down at me long and hard, sweat dotting my brow at what would slip past her lips next.
“Did you love him?”
Her question caught me off guard, causing my eyelids to flutter their shock. I fumbled over my words before finally responding, “I don’t fall in love.”
“Well, I did...but I’ve moved on. I know I’m lucky to be alive, I gotta let karma handle the rest.”
”Pshhh...karma moves too slow for me,” I mumbled.
“It’s not worth it...he’s not worth it,” Sonia choked.
“So, will you help me or not?” Her past with Max was hers to deal with; my only concern was whether she was down to help me or not.
“Give me your phone.” She offered her hand, which I quickly obliged. When she passed it back, I saw she’d entered an address.
“I don’t know what you’ll find when you go there, if you’ll find anything. Just...be careful.”
I watched her back as she retreated to the kitchen, then quickly cut my eyes at Ms. Kim before I got up out of there. My work here was done.
***
I’m not sure what I expected to find, but the address Sonia provided belonged to a neatly manicured, well-kept brownstone on a quiet street. Even from the outside of the home, I could tell it belonged to someone with money. Well tended planter boxes confirmed a woman’s touch was definitely present.
I froze, realizing that I hadn’t thought my next steps through. I got so caught up in finding the place that I gave no thought to what I’d do once I got there.
Pondering my next move, I caught sight of a sweaty-faced kid, bouncing a basketball outside the brownstone right next door to the address Sonia provided. As far as I could see from my vantage point, no adults were around. I rolled down the window and whistled to get his attention. The kid frowned and looked like he wanted to run inside his house and away from stranger danger, but I flashed a friendly smile and called out to him.
“Wanna make five bucks?”
That got his attention and after watching him tuck the basketball under his arm, I waved him over to my car. He leaned into my car window as I extended the five-dollar-bill toward him.
“Do me a favor. Ring the doorbell of that house.” I pointed toward my target. “If someone answers, make something up. Play it cool. And don’t mention me. You got it?”
“Oh.” He smirked, letting the ball roll down to the pavement. Bouncing it between his legs, he looked over his shoulder at the brownstone before returning his attention to me.
“Nobody’s gonna answer. Those people hardly come around. When the car’s gone, there’s nobody there.”
“Oh really? So who lives there?” I tilted my head, intrigued by the details he disclosed.
“Nobody. Mrs. Vannie and Mali used to come around sometimes.” He bounced his ball again, plucking my nerves each time it made contact with the pavement.
“Don’t see them so much anymore. Now, that other lady comes by sometimes to water the flowers.” He paused for a few seconds, face twisted as though he was organizing the details in a memory before he spoke again.
“Well, sometimes Mrs. Vannie comes...but mostly, it’s the other lady. Mama said the lady’s probably gonna buy it and—”
“Yea, yea, that’s cool.” I cut off what I knew was about to be a long-winded story that I didn’t care about. “So, where does Ms. Vannie live now?”
“No idea. But thanks for the cash!” He shot me a slick grin that made me wonder if the little brat was lying. I watched him jog back across the street, doing a quick crossover move before disappearing into his house.
I contemplated all he’d just shared, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel as I plotted my next move. It seemed the best bet would be to catch this woman who maintained the home. Maybe she’d have some information on this Ms. Vannie chick.
Just as I was about to pull off, a black town car pulled up and parked right in front of the brownstone in question. Seemed like luck was really on my side because a tall, gorgeous woman stepped out from a rear passenger door. That has to be her.
The town car idled and a few minutes later, the woman exited the brownstone, locked up, and returned to the town car. When it eased away from the curb, I quickly shifted into drive and followed it through the busy streets, keeping a good distance between us. Ten minutes later, we were turning into the curved driveway for Heights Recovery Center. The woman exited, but the car didn’t wait this time.
Watching the woman hug who I assumed was a greeter, I knew I’d need to head inside if I hoped to speak with her. I checked my appearance one last time after parking, then headed toward the entrance to slip inside the building.
“Welcome, is this your first time?” An older woman with graying hair and a cheap shawl spread around her shoulders grabbed my hand. I resisted the urge to snatch away and gave a friendly nod.
“Perfect! Well, we’ll be getting started in just a few moments, so come in inside and help yourself to the refreshments.” She gave a warm smile before moving on to greet the next attendee.
As I turned the corner to enter the room designated for the meeting, I was met with a dozen people who were seated, positioned in a semicircle. The woman I assumed was Vannie sat with her legs crossed, thumbing through her phone. I took special notice of her bare ring finger.
Something about her drew me in because I found myself committing her every detail to memory. Smooth skin the color of toasted honey was flanked with wavy auburn locks. Her outfit was easily valued at my entire paycheck, and the Alaïa suede boots I’d been eying at Saks for three months definitely broke the bank. Deeply engrossed in whatever was on her phone, the woman seemed a bit antisocial; either that or an extreme introvert.
The background music I’d just taken notice of started to fade, and seeing someone fill the chair that stood at the head of the semi-circle, I assumed this meant it was showtime.
I sat through the reading of something called the Preamble, followed by a passage reading from a book titled How it Works. After the serenity prayer and a few other items, the facilitator opened the floor for sharing. And damn did these folks share! I had to stifle a yawn after a balding, pot-bellied man went on and on about how his wife had left him. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from saying the first thing that came to mind, trying hard not to disrespect what was supposed to be a safe, judgment-free zone. Rather than blow my cover, I listened patiently and, just my luck, the womanI followed decided to go next in sharing.
“Hi, my name is Havana, and I’m an alcoholic,” she began. Her voice was thick with a Latin accent. “Welcome, Havana,” the entire group greeted in unison.
“So, as most of you know, I just celebrated a year sober last week,” she began, legs crossed as she easily held the room captive. I zoned out for a minute because she was way too long-winded for a person who’d previously seemed so quiet. But her next words pulled me back in.
“...but my saving grace was one look at my little girl...”
Daughter?
There was a silence that fell over the room after Havana finished sharing. After a quick round of applause, the facilitator asked if anyone else wanted to share, and damn if I didn’t find myself speaking before I even took a second to consider what I wanted to say.
“My name is Amy...and...uh, I’m an alcoholic.” I could feel every eye in the room bearing down on me.
“Welcome, Amy.”
“I’m new to town and I’ve only been to a few of these meetings. But I guess I’m what you could call newly sober...” I stumbled over my words. I was completely unprepared and wished I hadn’t been so quick to open my big ass mouth.
What I wasn’t expecting was for my stab at sharing to hit home, but that’s exactly what it did. I found myself choking back unexpected emotion as I tried to wrap shit up and shut my mouth.
“And at this point, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to stay on the right path. Thank you.”
My body completely stiffened when I felt Havana reach over and bring me in for a hug. Thrown off by her warm smile, I glanced around and realized the entire room sent smiles of encouragement my way as well. Oddly enough I felt supported. But then as soon as the next person began to speak, an intense shame washed over me and I wished I could hide. I hope they wrap this shit up soon.
After the meeting was adjourned, others milled about socializing while I rushed outside, desperate for the fresh night air. I noticed Havana’s driver parked along the curb, engine idling as he waited for her.
“Amy, is it? Are you okay?” The soft latin accent surprised me as I turned to see Havana’s face set in worry.
“Yes, I’m fine. I just—”
“You’re afraid you overshared?” Her smile was so disarming, and there was something oddly nurturing about her. I nodded, but didn’t speak.
“Listen we’ve all been there. When I first started coming to these meetings, it took months before I felt comfortable opening up. But I learned that what you can feel, you can heal; make sense?” I nodded again, my voice somewhere on mute.
“Here, take my number. You ever need to talk to someone or feel like you need support in between meetings, call me.” She passed me a card with her name and seven digits in black ink.
“Thank you, I will,” I assured her. Then with a slight wave and smile, she disappeared into the exclusivity of the town car.
The entire ride home, I wore a smug grin of satisfaction. I felt like I was one step closer to seeing my plan come to pass. I felt all the way up and nothing could blow my natural high—that was until I approached my apartment door to find a bright yellow eviction notice, taped in place for all my neighbors to see.
Fuck my life!