A World Apart Page 3

  As the other man sat down in the last row, Ben turned his attention back to the front, and the man called Arthur. The old man smiled warmly around the room, and Ben’s heart rate was almost back to normal. He no longer wanted to leave.

  “Welcome, everyone.” The old man’s voice was warm, and Ben detected the merest hint of an almost-forgotten British accent in the words. “My name’s Arthur, and I’m an alcoholic.”

  As the room murmured the customary response, Ben relaxed. He could do this. He was on familiar terrain here.

  “Let’s say the prayer,” Arthur called. Ben murmured along and caught himself listening out for Saunders’s quiet dark voice behind him.

  God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

  Courage to change the things I can,

  And wisdom to know the difference.

  As the meeting progressed, Ben’s mood calmed even further. Memories of past AA meetings came back to him, and a sense of peace he had always felt at them. He was not a religious man, but the ceremonial nature of these gatherings, so often resembling a church service, had been the anchor he had needed to get sober all these years ago.

  The knowledge of being in the same situation as all the other people in the room, of feeling that he wasn’t a failure, that others were struggling with the same demons, and actually understood what he was going through, had been his salvation. And it hadn’t lost its magic. Ben had never really made friends with anyone at meetings, not even with the one sponsor he’d had for a while. But having this safe space to return to when he needed it, that roomful of people that never judged, and who didn’t care who he was, had been a lifeline.

  Ben didn’t get up to speak. He just listened to what the others had to share. And throughout the meeting, Ben was acutely aware of Saunders behind him, just as silent as he was himself.

  After an hour, Arthur concluded the meeting, and they recited the serenity prayer again. There was a scraping of chair legs all around Ben, but he stayed in his seat for a few more minutes, keeping his eyes on the floor, hoping nobody would approach him. Today he definitely wasn’t up to connecting with a roomful of strangers. But out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Saunders went up to the front and started helping Arthur straighten chairs and tidy away leaflets.

  When most people had either left or were engaged in conversation, Ben got up and went over to where the coffee urns stood, in no rush to get home. He was at peace here and keen to keep that feeling alive for as long as possible. Ben was just about to take a cup when Saunders appeared by his side.

  “Hey.”

  The other man’s smile was shy and sort of sideways, but his eyes were still gentle. He seemed genuinely pleased to see Ben.

  Ben took a deep breath. “Mr. Sau—”

  “Donnie,” the other man interrupted him. “S’jus’ first names here, remember?”

  “Right,” Ben said, mind suddenly blank. “Right. I’m sorry.”

  Donnie gave a small shrug and reached past Ben for two cups, then filled them both with steaming coffee. He held one cup out and Ben’s gaze in his. “Glad ya came, Ben.”

  Chapter Four

  “COME TO MEETING again,” Donnie said before Ben left, and he meant it. “I’m usually here for the first one in the morning, and the one at six.” While they were talking, one of the other attendees came up to them and was now hovering, clearly anxious to have a word with Donnie. With a small smile and a nod to Ben, Donnie turned his attention to the other attendee.

  Ben drove home after that, to shower and change before work. He was calmer than he had been since the fight with Helen, and on the drive back to Corinth he contemplated the coincidence of seeing Donnie again.

  With half his mind on the familiar journey down I-85, Ben let himself enjoy the quiet contentment he felt after the unexpected encounter. But his newfound AA-induced equilibrium soon began to evaporate. Ben’s head and stomach were still tender, and he didn’t relish the prospect of working with this hangover—or worse, fighting with Helen again.

  But his wife’s mood was very different when he got home. It was as if, now that all was said and done, Helen found it possible to be civil to him again. The look she gave Ben when he walked into the kitchen was sort of resigned, as if she was trying not to care that he had never come home the night before. She didn’t ask him where he had been, or let on at all that she noticed how disheveled and worse for wear he looked. Ben didn’t mind not having to listen to a lecture.

  “I put your things in the guest bedroom.” Helen’s voice was terse but calm. “Until we figure out what happens next, let’s not mention anything to Laura, alright?”

  “Okay,” Ben agreed. Unable to think of something else to say, he left the kitchen. Helen would want him to spend as little time in her presence as possible. Once his wife had come to a decision, nothing would sway her, and any counterargument would be useless. Seeing him would remind her of the difficult step she had just taken, and it could only serve to make her mad again. Ben would try to do his best to be invisible. He couldn’t fight anymore, he was too tired. But the feeling of loneliness nearly overwhelmed him as he climbed the stairs.

  He went into the guest bedroom, which luckily had its own en suite bathroom. He showered and got changed. Helen must’ve had a busy morning already; what looked like all of Ben’s clothes and personal effects had been relocated from their bedroom and tidily put away in the wardrobe and drawers.

  On his way back downstairs, Ben stopped by the master bedroom’s door and tried the handle. The door was locked. The last bit of energy went out of him, and tears stung the corners of his eyes for the first time since the fight the night before.

  So this really was it. Suddenly, the urge to go right back out and find another bar was almost overpowering. But then the memory of the community center’s door, wide and blue, with a faded yellow poster tacked to it, came back to Ben, and he heard Donnie’s voice in his mind: Hope I’ll see ya again. He squared his shoulders, turned his back on the bedroom door, went down the stairs and out to his car.

  Yes, he would attend another AA meeting in Atlanta as soon as possible.

  Only, not that night. By the time Ben’s shift was over, it was nearly one in the morning, and he was ready to drop with exhaustion. He barely made it back home without crashing the car, then stumbled up the stairs and into the guest room, trying to be quiet but knowing he was failing. He lay down on the bed with a groan and promptly fell asleep, without even taking off his shoes.

  HELEN AND LAURA were gone by the time Ben came downstairs the next morning. Despite sleeping in his clothes, he felt properly rested. His sleep had been deep and undisturbed; his body had clearly needed the rest. He made himself coffee and ate a bowl of Laura’s cereal.

  It was one of those odd days at the station where his half shift would cover part of the morning and part of the afternoon. Captain Buckley kept insisting that the budget cuts were not affecting the county’s policing, but Ben begged to differ. In order to ensure sufficient staff coverage, strange new working patterns had emerged, and days like today felt disjointed to him and his colleagues.

  But for once, Ben didn’t mind. He would be able to leave Corinth around four p.m., which would give him sufficient time to get to Atlanta and the AA meeting at six. And Ben was looking forward to the meeting. The anticipation of the AA’s peace and calm gave his mind something to focus on. Each time his mind threatened to return to the locked bedroom door, and his home where three people still lived as if nothing had happened, he thought of that calm. And sometimes he heard Donnie’s voice, too. Hope I’ll see ya again.

  Jason threw him a curious look when Ben got into the patrol car. “You okay, man? You didn’t seem quite there yesterday.”

  “I’m fine.” Ben gave his partner a quick smile. Jason knew about his past struggle with alcohol, but Ben didn’t feel like talking about his relapse, or the reason for it. “Not been sleeping that great for a while,” he lied. “Last night was be
tter, though.”

  Ben didn’t talk much during their shift. If Jason noticed that he was being quieter than usual, he didn’t say anything, and regaled Ben with stories from his recent dates as usual. While listening to Jason with half an ear, Ben thought of Laura, worrying about how his daughter would take his and Helen’s separation. Every time anxiety over the future threatened to overwhelm him, he forced his mind back to this night’s AA meeting, trying to conjure anticipation of the peace it would bring.

  It was a quiet day, and they encountered nothing worse than a bunch of teens smoking in a parking lot and passing around an illicit bottle of vodka. Recently, Ben had noticed just how quiet Corinth was during the day. Sometimes, he grew restless with the boredom, but today, he hardly noticed.

  Ben and Jason returned to the station just after half past four. Ben said good night to his partner, got into his Toyota, and headed into Atlanta. Rush-hour traffic was just picking up, but he made it to the community center by twenty to six.

  He walked through the wide blue door and promptly collided with a small squealing boy of maybe four.

  “Hey there, buddy,” Ben said, smiling, as he caught the child by the collar to prevent him from toppling over.

  “Emilio,” a dark voice called, and the next moment, Donnie appeared from around a corner. He gave Ben a quick smile as he came striding over, then crouched by the boy’s side. A young woman trailed after them. She and Ben both watched Donnie as he focused on the boy.

  “Brother,” Donnie said evenly. “Yer mom told ya not to run in here, didn’t she?” He waited for the boy to nod, then leaned close and whispered, “She’s upset yer so much faster’n her. Ya always gotta be polite to the ladies. Let her catch up. No more running, awright?”

  “Awright,” the boy echoed earnestly. Ben suppressed a grin.

  “Good man,” Donnie said, clapped the boy on the back, and straightened up. The woman took Emilio’s hand and made for the door. Donnie gave them a wave. “Night, Maria. See ya tomorrow.”

  Ben was suddenly aware that he was still watching Donnie. That had been the most words he had heard the man say so far in one go.

  Donnie turned, and noticing Ben’s eyes on him, he blushed. “I work with them kids, at the daycare here,” he said in explanation and motioned in the direction of the back of the building. Then he smiled. “Ya came back, then.”

  Ben nodded. “The meeting was real good.” He hesitated a moment before continuing, “It’s rough going at home at the moment. AA takes my mind off things, makes me feel calm.” He hoped Donnie wouldn’t mind him oversharing or think him weak for it.

  But the other man’s indigo eyes were full of sympathy. “Glad it helped,” he said quietly. Then he nodded at the staircase. “Coming?”

  They climbed the stairs together, but as soon as they got into the meeting room, Arthur waved Donnie to the front. Ben sat down alone in a row near the back.

  The room filled quickly, and some people who Ben recognized from the previous day nodded at him. When Arthur went to the podium to start the meeting, Donnie sat down in the front row.

  Arthur smiled around the room. “Today,” he said, “we’ll have a special topic: I want us to talk about happiness. When you come up here, you can still talk about anything else you’ve got on your mind, but mention at least one thing that made you happy this week. Right, let’s begin!”

  The anticipated calm settled over Ben as they said the serenity prayer, and increasingly, he lost himself in that sense of peace as one person after the other went to the front to speak. He listened with interest to the retelling of everyone’s happy events from the week, thinking that Arthur’s idea had been a good one.

  About halfway through the meeting, to Ben’s great surprise, Donnie got up and went to the podium. He kept his eyes on the floor, and his fingers were nervously tugging on each other. Then he turned to the room and gave a quick wave.

  “Hiya.” Donnie’s voice was quiet, but everyone kept very still, listening. Ben looked at the people around him. There was a great fondness on every face. Wonder if Donnie knows how much they all like him. Ben was immediately surprised at the thought.

  “I don’t talk much,” Donnie carried on. There was a ripple of good-natured laughter. “But Arthur said, maybe today I could…jus’ talk about somethin’ good this week.”

  Ben could’ve sworn that Donnie looked straight at him for a moment. He sat very still, listening to Donnie intently. Now that his voice wasn’t tense with suppressed anger and fear, Ben noticed the smooth, soft timbre, a low singsong quality that made him pay attention. He was suddenly and forcefully reminded of warm summer nights spent sitting on his grandparents’ porch, listening to his gramps talk of the old days.

  Grampa Jackson, his mom’s father, had been an unskilled farm laborer, and he’d talked a lot like Donnie—lots of near-silent r’s and dropped endings. Ben had loved his gramps, and the memories flooding him gave him a warm peaceful feeling.

  “So, yeah…,” Donnie continued after a nervous pause. “Something that made me happy was someone being nice to me when he didn’t…didn’t have to be. I didn’t expect it neither, and it was a real good feeling. Really made my day…. And that’s all, really…. Thanks for listening, y’all…” Blushing crimson now, Donnie nodded jerkily and hurried back to his seat.

  Just then, Ben happened to look at Arthur, who was still watching Donnie. The old man was smiling widely and nodded approvingly when Donnie’s eyes flitted to him. Donnie grinned a little, then turned his head, and this time there was no mistaking it: He gave Ben a quick look before lowering his gaze again.

  Arthur got up and took the podium. “Thank you, Donnie. That was great. Alright, let me share something that made me happy this week…”

  Ben couldn’t take his eyes off Donnie’s profile, which still held a trace of the recent blush. He was touched that what he had done at the station had made a big enough impression that Donnie felt it possible to overcome his shyness and speak in front of all these people. Thinking about the incident made Ben angry with Jason all over again.

  When the meeting ended, Ben waited for the room to clear. He exchanged words with a few people as, one by one, they all left. Finally only Donnie and Arthur remained, busy with tidying up. When all the chairs were in their place and all leaflets put away, Donnie looked around and saw Ben standing by the door.

  Waving at Arthur, he said, “See ya in the morning.” Then he came toward Ben, one eyebrow raised. “Ya waiting for me?”

  “I wanted to apologize again, for Jason.”

  Donnie waved that away. “I provoked him. Shouldn’t’ve cursed a police officer. And anyway, ya made up for it, being real nice.”

  “Listen,” Ben said, suddenly feeling nervous, but determined to see this through. “Can I buy you a coffee?”

  For a split second, probably out of habit, Donnie’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, but then they softened. He nodded, blushing again. “Yeah…sure. C’mon.”

  “You want a smoke?” Ben asked when they stepped through the blue front doors into the alleyway. He pulled out a rumpled pack of cigarettes from his back pocket.

  “Nah, thanks,” Donnie said. “Gave it up.” He grinned, looking a little pleased with himself. “Kids said I was being too stinky.”

  Ben regarded the pack, then, on an impulse, chucked it into a bin by the corner of the alley. “I did, too, as good as. Time to make it permanent.”

  They went to the café where Ben had gone with his hangover the day before. Donnie slid into a booth by the front window.

  “You hungry?” Ben asked as the waitress came toward their table.

  Donnie shook his head. “Just a black coffee.”

  Ben ordered a cappuccino. He’d had enough black coffee for one day, both at work and at the AA meeting. When the drinks came, Donnie added three heaped teaspoons of sugar to his coffee. Ben laughed softly.

  “Sweet tooth?” he asked.

  Donnie shrugged, then glanced up and gave
Ben a small grin. Up close, his eyes were even more striking, a dark shimmering blue Ben had never seen in anyone before. He was reminded of something, but couldn’t think what.

  They were quiet for a few minutes, sipping their drinks. It was odd how relaxed Ben felt, to be quiet with this virtual stranger. Not many people could stand prolonged silence, but Donnie seemed as much at ease as Ben was himself.

  When the other man spoke, it wasn’t out of the need to fill a silence, but because Donnie actually had something to say. “I meant that. What I said, ‘bout ya making my day.”

  He didn’t look up, but Ben couldn’t take his eyes off him. A twinge of pity flicked across his mind at the thought that a mere act of common decency had actually registered so strongly with this man that he treasured it like this.

  “Jason was really out of line,” he said. “I couldn’t leave that be. I had to fix it.”

  Now Donnie glanced up and nodded. “Thank you,” he said very quietly, and smiled his shy smile. A strange sensation settled over Ben.

  “Do you believe in fate, Donnie?” he asked suddenly. “That some things are just meant to be, that stuff happens for a reason?” Donnie didn’t say anything, so Ben carried on. “It seems like a strange coincidence, that the community center is where I ended up. There must be dozens of AA meetings in the city—”

  “I’m not the right person to ask about that, Ben,” Donnie finally interrupted him. “My folks, shit just happens to us. No rhyme or reason. Maybe that’s fate, too. Destiny kicking our butts…” He fell silent, looking suddenly miserable.

  Ben hadn’t meant anything serious by his remark; he wasn’t even sure he believed in fate himself. It had just been on his mind, what with the strange few days he’d just had.

  He didn’t want Donnie to feel uncomfortable, so he quickly changed the subject. “You’ve been working with the center long?”

  That seemed to do the trick of lightening Donnie’s mood, even though what the man said next didn’t sound like a happy story. “Arthur got me in, couple years back. Me and Floyd—Floyd’s my brother—we got into a bit of trouble. Floyd, he used to hunt, but he lost his license…” Donnie stopped talking, suddenly looking uneasy again. Ben smiled.