Taking the Fourth

Christine’s phone buzzed at an incoming message. It had gone to voice mail. She clicked on it and began reading the transcript.

‘Hi, Chris, this is James. Been a while. Hoped we could talk. I owe you an apology. Let’s meet so I can offer it in person. If not, I get it. Hope you’re well. Let me know.’

The voice mail started before she’d finished reading. Hearing James’ voice, she almost dropped the phone.

The phone rang. Startled, she answered reflexively.

“Hello?”

“Chris!” It was James at his cheeriest.

“What do you want?”

“Thanks for picking up. How are you?”

“You said you wouldn’t contact me…”

“Add that to the list of things I need to apologize for. I’m sorry. But please, we need to talk.”

She raced around her house, closing blinds. Activity helped her to quell panic attacks.

“No we don’t. Do I need to call the police?”

“Don’t do that, Chris…”

“The restraining order…”

Entering the kitchen, she began washing the breakfast dishes. He grinned at the clatter, knowing where she was.

“Technically, that’s expired… Anyway, I thought maybe, after all this time…”

“There’s not enough time in the world, James…”

“Don’t hang up.”

“James, I can’t do this.”

“Please. Give me a minute…”

“What?”

He smiled.

“I’m doing the steps.”

“The what?”

“In AA. You know, the twelve steps… The fourth is to make amends to someone I’ve injured.”

“Why are you telling me…?”

He heard the phone rattle and a dish smash.  He suppressed a chuckle.

She yelled. “Damn it!”

“Chris? You okay?”

The line went dead.

He laughed. “Got her…” James glanced at the clock. “Damn! Got to get going. ‘Nother damned meeting.”

His court mandated, daily attendance to an AA meeting had always been tedious. James had never seen the point.

‘Every day? Really? You call hanging out with a bunch of dry drunks a social life? Bring your own crying towel. Cramps my style. How’s a guy supposed to go to a meeting and ask some babe out for coffee? Can you say ‘loser’? What kind of party is that?’

The meetings’ purpose eluded him. What marginal benefit they offered had long ago degraded into boring repetition. James didn’t identify as an alcoholic. Sure, he’d made mistakes. But he could drink or not. No big deal. James felt it counter-productive to embrace dependence as an identity. And then to indulge in perpetual self-flagellation over it.

‘I’ve been sober for… a year? My choice. Big deal. Give me a medal already. What’s the shelf life on this? Churches offer absolution. Even purgatory’s not a life sentence, for God’s sake…’

He drifted into the meeting a few minutes late. Keith, his sponsor, acknowledged him with a nod and made a mark on his pad.

James poured a coffee and picked a donut from the refreshments table.

The speaker had everyone either laughing or crying. James had heard it all. He took a seat at the back as the speaker concluded his speech. James imagined the applause was for his showing up.

During the break, Keith approached James. “Glad you made it…”

“Yeah, I’m here… working the steps.”

“Yeah? How’s it going?”

“That fourth step… Powerful… Spoke to my ex…”

Keith nodded. “Tell me about it.”       

“Talked for quite a while. Think she might want to see me again.”

“For a face-to-face apology?”

“I mean to get back together… She said other things, but you get the gist.”

Keith looked skeptical.

“I’m not sure I want that, but she seemed… receptive. Who knows what women want?”

“James, the fourth step is pretty specific. For making amends. Not rekindling romances…”

“Well, duh… I know that.”

“And not creating more damage.”

“Of course… Keith, I know I have no control over her desires.”

“Long as that’s clear…”

“By the way, Keith… Is this the only meeting I can go to?”

“It’s the one I’m at. I’m your sponsor… If you go to another, how do I know you attended? The court…”

“Right, the court. I could… well, never mind.”

“Let’s talk at fellowship later. You should come…”

“Yeah, maybe. Work in the morning…”

Keith smiled at the standard excuse. “They’re about to start. Why don’t you share tonight? Always a first time, right?”

“We’ll see.”

Everyone returned to their seats. James ducked out as soon as he could.

The next day, James went to work in the courthouse where he clerked for one of the judges. Some days he was slammed. Other days, free as a bird.

He spent breaks in the corridor outside the divorce court. Vulnerable to his charms, he’d strike up conversations with women he met there.

He smiled to himself, ‘This face has opened many doors, and still no worse for wear…’

He discovered early that divorced women enjoyed opening up to a man with a sympathetic ear. Sometimes, they’d talk over drinks and occasionally spend the night sharing more than memories. Many said he should be a therapist, but he cherished his amateur status.

Of course, he’d also encountered bitter or angry women outside the courtroom. He learned to side-step such entanglements.

After observing for a while, he sat next to an attractive woman sitting on a bench outside the courtroom. She held her purse and a briefcase and stared into space.

James never thought he had a type. But this woman called to him in a language only he knew.

He leaned in. “Tough day?”

After a pause, as if awakening from a dream, she looked at him.

“It is what it is.”

He said, “Looks like you could use some good conversation. Let me buy you a coffee.”

Considering the offer, the woman judged him as conventionally handsome. Not swoon worthy.

 She nodded. “I’m done here.” She stood and offered her hand. “I’m Loraine.”

He stood and shook her hand. “James… You want coffee…? Or something else…?”

After a moment, “Is it too early for Irish coffee?”

They smiled at each other.

“I know a place…”

They got acquainted as he led her to his favorite bar a block from the court complex, ‘The Amicus.’ It was popular with lawyers and court staff.

“You work at the court?”

“Just a clerk. Not a lawyer or a judge. It’s flexible. Go where I’m needed.”

“You must know all the right people. Handy, if you ever get in trouble.”

“Yeah, I’m done with trouble. No future in it.”

James thought, ‘She looks great. What’s wrong with her that her marriage failed?’

They found a table straight away. James held Loraine’s chair.

He ordered a scotch, and she asked for a dry martini with extra olives.

She sighed. “I’m glad this is almost over. I have a deadline looming on my novel. Need to refocus. Get back on it.”

“What’s it about? If you don’t mind…”

She looked off and smiled. “Love, empathy, compassion… attitudes which make us most human.”

“So, it’s a cautionary tale?”

She stared, lost. “Excuse me?”

“Telling us what to avoid?”

She laughed. “You’re funny…”

James enjoyed disarming women with his offbeat sense of humor.

The waitress placed their drinks on square paper napkins. Each featured the bar’s logo.

Loraine said, “Look at that. Cocktail glasses with umbrellas balancing the scales.” She slipped a napkin into her purse. “Souvenir… Now I get it. Lady Justice isn’t blind. She’s blind drunk…”

He raised his drink for a toast. “Dust to dust…”

She smiled. “Another reason to avoid contact. I’m germ phobic. Hate cleaning.”

James nodded with new understanding.

Loraine didn’t want to dwell on her divorce. But she mentioned how supportive friends had been.

James offered, “Talking over drinks and sharing struggles… That’s how even strangers become dear friends. That’s what it’s about… friends have your back.”

She smiled at the thought. She said, “I’m long past the pity party.”

He added, “You should know, if you hit a speed bump in this court process, I can facilitate things. You know, slip files from the bottom to the top… Whatever…” He smiled. “Through trick or spin…”

She smiled at his word play. “Hook or by crook?”

Grinning, he said, “No… I wouldn’t go that far… But seriously, shared pain could bond us instead of leaving us alone. Ready for another?”

James pointed at her almost empty glass.

“Thanks, but no. I need to get on with my day.”

She stood. James didn’t want her to get away. He touched her hand.

“Wait… I’ve enjoyed talking. Can I call you?”

 She gave him a steady look. “Okay, a few more minutes. Let me tell you about my friend. I’ll call her Christine.”

James felt a twinge at the mention of his ex’s name. As Loraine spoke, he fidgeted, wanting to run out.

“Her ex is a total phony. Grade A and certified… Get this… He goes to AA meetings at night and drinks during the day, contrary to a court order yet. I won’t bore you with a full list of his offenses. I’m sure you’ve seen his type lurking in the courthouse halls.”

The room brightened. She looked up, smiled and waved at someone who had opened the door.

“Talk about coincidence… There she is.”

James turned to see his ex, Christine, wave at Loraine.

He said, “No…”

Christine aimed her I-phone at James, recording a video of him sitting in a bar with a drink. She grinned and approached, ensuring James stayed in the frame.

Laughing, she said, “What a surprise! I didn’t know you knew each other!”

She stopped recording and hugged Loraine, who whispered, “Thanks for the call, Chris. Glad to help.”

Christine turned to James with a smile. “Hi James. Making amends? You asked me to meet but I didn’t expect it to be here.”

He just stared, mouth open.

She poked his chest. “Gotcha! You are so busted.”

James bolted from the bar. Christine called to him. “Wait! What about your apology?”

The women burst into laughter. Loraine gestured to the room. “Look at this charming bar James brought me to. Have time for a drink?”

They laughed and sat at the table. Holding up two fingers, Loraine signaled the waitress.