The spade fell from Annie’s hand and hit the ground with a thunk. She looked at Izzy, who was still kneeling in the dirt, awkwardly pulling up weeds with her two “visible” fingers as if nothing had happened. The moment bloomed, full of beauty and possibilities.
Izzy had spoken.
Annie released her breath in a slow sigh. Stay calm, Annie. She decided to act as if speaking were as normal as not speaking. “Why, I do believe you’re right. L-M-N-OP. . . Q-R-S . . . ”
“T-U-V. ”
“W-X-Y . . . and Z. ” Annie felt as if she would burst with pride and love. She forced herself to keep digging weeds for a few more minutes. She wanted to shriek with happiness and pull Izzy into her arms, but she didn’t dare. She didn’t want to scare Izzy back into silence.
“There,” she said at last. “That’s enough for now. My arms feel like they’re going to fall off. Jean-Claude—that was my personal trainer in California—he would be so proud of me right now. He always said I didn’t sweat. I said if I wanted to sweat, I wouldn’t wear color-coordinated clothes that cost a fortune. ” She wiped a dirty hand across her slick forehead. “I have lemonade in the fridge, and some leftover chicken from last night. What do you say we have a picnic dinner out here? I could make us milkshakes . . . ”
When Izzy looked up at her, there were tears in her eyes.
At last, Annie pulled the little girl into her arms.
Chapter 14
Cigarette smoke swirled in a thick blue haze beneath a ceiling of stained acoustical tiles.
Nick stood in the open doorway of a long, narrow room in the windowless basement of the Lutheran church. Two wood-grain Formica tables hugged the back wall, their surfaces covered with coffeemakers and Styrofoam cups and boxes stacked with packaged sugar and instant creamer. There was a crowd of people at the Coke machine, and an even larger crowd at the coffeepot. The smell of burnt coffee mingled with the bitter stench of the cigarettes.
People sat in folding metal chairs, some comfortably stretched out, some perched nervously on the edge of their seats. Nearly all of them were smoking cigarettes.
He didn’t know if he could go through with this, if he could stroll into this smoky room and throw his vulnerability on one of those cheap-ass tables and let strangers dissect it. . . .
“It’s harder than hell the first time. All the tension of first sex, with none of the fun. ”
Nick turned and saw Joe standing behind him.
The older man’s shoe-leather-brown face was creased into a relieved smile. “I hoped you’d show up. It was sort of a shock to my system after all those years of hoping you’d never show up. ”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Joe,” Nick said.
Joe laid a hand on Nick’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “I’m proud of you, Nicholas. Not disappointed. Life’s thrown a lot of curves your way—enough to crush a weaker man. I couldn’t be prouder of you if you were my own son. If Louise were here, she’d say, ‘Give that boy a hug, Joseph,’ and I think I will. ”
It was the first time Joe had ever hugged him, and Nick didn’t quite know how to respond. For as long as he could remember, he’d thought there was something wrong with him, something essential missing at his core, and he’d spent a lifetime waiting to be unmasked. He’d shielded himself from the people he loved—Kathy, Izzy, Louise, and Joe—afraid that if they saw the real Nick, they’d turn away. But Joe had seen the truth, seen all of Nick’s weaknesses and failures, and still he was here, claiming Nick as his son.
When Joe drew back, his black eyes were moist. “It’s going to get tougher before it gets better. You’ve just jumped
into the deep end, and you’ll think you’re drowning. But I’m here to keep your head above water. ”
“Thanks, Joe. ” He didn’t say for everything, but he could see that Joe understood.
“Come on,” Joe said. “Let’s sit down. ”
They headed into the room. Over the next few minutes, more people wandered in, some talking among themselves, others noticeably silent.
Nick shifted in his seat. His feet tapped nervously on the floor. The repetitive sound only increased his anxiety.
“It’s okay, Nick,” Joe said quietly. “Why don’t you get yourself some coffee. ”
“Right. ” He surged to his feet and cut across the room. Fishing a few quarters from his pocket, he got a Classic Coke and snapped the tab, drinking greedily.
Feeling a little better, he went back to his seat and the meeting got under way.
A man introduced himself: “Hi, I’m Jim. I’m an alcoholic. ” The crowd of people answered back like good Catholics on Sunday, “Hi, Jim. ”
Jim stood in the front of the room and started talking. First there was the “God grant me” prayer, then stuff about meetings and twelve steps and more on serenity.