“Tonight! But…” There was that look again. “Yes, honey.”
“No more aperitif before dinner.”
“No, honey.”
“No more wine during dinner.”
“Of course, honey.”
“And no more wine when we’re watching TV.”
He sighed.“Yes, honey. No more wine.”
She offered him a very frosty smile.“Good.”
Then she turned on her heel and left the kitchen.
[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]
It wasn’t a happy Tex who showed up at the AA meeting that night. More a reluctant participant in the revels, if revels were to be had, which was unlikely. He would have argued that a man of his standing in the community could hardly be expected to get up in front of a crowd of people and announce that he was an alcoholic. It might damage his reputation. What patient in their right mind would visit a doctor who was a known drunk? A man who might be expected to perform the kind of minor surgery all family doctors perform with trembling hands?
But he knew that resistance was futile, and even though he was dragging his feet, he knew that attend he must. He did tell himself he wouldn’t get up at any point during the proceedings, and no words would escape his lips. He would sit at the back and make himself as invisible as possible. And if anyone asked, he’d tell them he was simply there as an observer. In his capacity as a medical professional, just in case someone collapsed and needed medical attention.
And so he snuck into the hall, glanced around, and quickly took a seat. He would have preferred to be in the last row, but the last three rows were filled already when he got there. But at least he wasn’t in the front. To his surprise all the chairs were occupied, and the meeting enjoyed the benefit of a full house. In front, a woman was standing, who introduced herself as Betsy Brogue. She was the chairperson, and in a few words described the AA program for the benefit of the newcomers.
And as he listened carefully, he didn’t notice how a person slid in next to him. Only when a sharp prod in the ribs caused him to look up, did he see who his neighbor was.
“Vesta!” he loud-whispered. “What are you doing here!”
“I could ask you the same thing!” she loud-whispered back.
“If you want to say something, I suggest you do it in front of the group,” Betsy called out.
But both Tex and his motherin-law quickly shook their heads, their faces having turned a light crimson when all those present turned to look at them. They shrunk in their seats and would have preferred, if possible, to have disappeared.
Fortunately no one called on them to testify or stand in front of the group, and they both kept their mouths shut, and sat in uncomfortable silence throughout Betsy’s introduction of the first speaker, in whom Tex recognized a former patient of his, and then a second and third speaker, both current patients.
This was a nightmare, he thought, as he was sweating profusely. Not only wasn’t he an alcoholic, and so completely out of place, but with Vesta present, he could be sure that pretty soon the whole town would know about his attendance, Vesta being an inveterate blabbermouth of the worst kind.
Finally the meeting ended, but as he decided to slip out quietly and unobserved, he was stopped by the chairperson herself.“First-timers?” she asked, addressing both himself and Vesta. “I think you’ll find that things are going to be a lot easier if you don’t have to face this problem alone,” she explained. “Which is why we have something called the sponsor system. Now I know that typically a sponsor is someone who’s been dry for a while, but unfortunately we’ve been seeing so many newcomers that frankly we’ve run out of available sponsors. So I’m going to take a gamble here and I’m going to put the two of you together.”
“Wait, what?!” Tex cried.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Vesta growled.
“Just bear with me,” said Betsy implacably. “I know this might seem a little unusual, but I can assure you the system works. So whenever you find yourself in trouble…”
“Tex,” said Tex with some reluctance.
“You simply call on…”
“Vesta,” said Vesta with even more reluctance.
“Vesta here. And vice versa. You’ll see that between meetings the support you get from your sponsor will prove invaluable.”
“Oh, I’ll bet it will,” said Vesta, looking distinctly unhappy.
Not as unhappy as Tex, though.“The thing is,” he said, “that we’re actually related, Vesta and me. She’s my motherin-law, you see, and I’m her son-in-law.”
“That usually goes together,” said Betsy.
“No, but you see, I’m a doctor, and so…”
But Betsy merely smiled.“Well, I hope to see you folks soon, and I look forward to hearing your personal stories.” She then placed a flyer in both their hands and tapped it smartly. “And don’t forget about the twelve steps, you two!”
They left the conference room, with Tex feeling as if he’d been hit on the head with a mallet. When he looked up, he found Vesta staring at him intently.
“That’s another fine mess you got us into, Tex,” she said with vehemence.