Forever Right Now

Darlene reached out and cupped my cheek in her hand. “If there is anything you need, tell me. I don’t know what I can do, but I’m here.”

I couldn’t speak; I only nodded, and it sent a tear sliding do

wn my cheek, to her hand.

“See?” she said with a quavering smile. “You feel so much, Sawyer. So much.” She wiped the tear into her palm. “I’m going to keep this,” she said, then turned and walked away.

Darlene

The hours of the weekend dragged me behind them. I didn’t see Sawyer at all, at least not up close. I watched from my upstairs window as the Abbotts came to pick up Olivia. Elena had told me they’d won supervised weekend visitation at the condo they were renting in the Marina.

I watched, my heart in my throat, as Sawyer helped them put Olivia in a sleek, white BMW SUV and drive off. He sat down on the front steps and was still sitting there long after they’d gone.

Every part of me ached to go to him, but after the other night, my mind felt as if it had been scrubbed free of the nagging whispers and doubts that always plagued me. I could think clearly. Sawyer had so much to contend with already. He didn’t need me adding to the storm of his turbulent emotions. If he wanted to talk to me, he knew to call or visit, and I’d be there for him.

He didn’t.

After work on Monday, I rehearsed with the dance troupe, dodging both Anne-Marie’s stink-eye and Ryan’s clumsy feet the entire time. But Greg loved my solo, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud.

“Saturday night, we open,” he said, as if we didn’t know that. “Take some of these flyers to pass out to your friends and family. “It’d be good if each of you brought at least two people to the show as your guests.”

“How many tickets have been sold?” Anne-Marie asked.

“We’re doing okay,” Greg said. “We could use a few more.”

Glances were exchanged among us. That was code for “hardly any” and my heart sank a little. I wasn’t doing the show for fame or fortune, that’s for sure, but it would be nice if someone other than Anne-Marie’s bitchy friends witnessed my first dance in four years. I took a handful of the Xeroxed papers and posted a few of them on my way home.

My phone rang after dinner, while I was curled up on my loveseat. I picked it up and a smile burst over my face.

“Maximilian,” I said. “Just the person I wanted to talk to.”

He told me about his new job at a Seattle hospital, and I told him about my emotional rock bottom and the NA meeting after.

“It was like taking a Silkwood shower,” I said.

“What does that even mean?” he asked with a chuckle.

“You haven’t seen Silkwood? That old movie where Meryl Streep works at a nuclear plant or something, and she gets irradiated? So these guys in Hazmat suits blast her with water hoses—in her eyeballs, gums, and everywhere—to decontaminate her?”

“That’s what your NA meeting felt like?”

“Yes. Being brutally honest in front of God and everyone feels like a Silkwood shower.” I smiled against the phone. “Put that in your Sponsor’s Manual.”

“Maybe, I will.” Max laughed. “Or you could put it in yours.”

I snorted. “Ha. I’m a long way from that.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” Max said. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Thank you. Me too. And I’m proud of you. Seen your folks yet?”

“Not yet. I have tentative dinner plans with Mom on Saturday. I’ll see how that goes before I tackle The Dad Situation.”

“Let me know how it goes. I’m always here for you.”

“Ah, and the student has become the master,” Max said.

I laughed. “Oh, stop.” My smile faded, and Max read my silence.